"Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center."

- Kurt Vonnegut

                                                                        ***

Rick hadn't said a word after Sirius' little revelation. It hadn't taken long to learn that Galloway wasn't the only Hunter with an epic cold shoulder. If it wasn't already so cold, it might have made Sirius shiver.

As it was, he was one degree away from shifting into his wolf form and its built in fur coat. His breath frosted before him, hanging in the freezing air. Ancient ice encrusted the walls, icicles that could kill a man if they ever fractured hanging from the ceilings.

He hated this part of Hell.

Rick shivered, chin tucked low, burrowing into his buttoned jacket. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his teeth chattering. The tip of his nose was bright red, the rest of his face deathly pale with the cold.

"C-can I die of h-hyp-pothermia down h-here?" he finally asked as they turned a corner and saw no sign of the deep-freeze letting up.

"I don't know," Sirius gritted out, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering as well. "But let's not hang around to find out, yeah?"

Rick just nodded, burrowed deeper into his jacket and kept trudging forward.

They were almost there. Sirius inhaled deeply, the cold biting at his nose and making his lungs feel like they were shrinking. Barely there, just above the smoky smell of the ice and cold, was a scent that warmed Sirius' blood with fury.

His heart beat harder with every step he took, washing adrenaline through his veins in short, powerful bursts. It chased away the cold, chased away the fear that had been clinging to him like a creeping vine since she'd died.

She'd been gone less than a month. She'd been gone years.

Time didn't matter. Time was immaterial to beings such as himself. All that mattered was that he was one step closer to her. One step closer to doing what he'd promised. One step closer to what was rightfully his. 

The cold and dark grew deeper—unbearably so—making both of them gasp as the very air seemed to thicken in their throats, freezing their lungs. Ice crystallized on Sirius' lashes, cutting at the delicate skin around his eyes every time he blinked.

They kept walking, knowing the only way out was through.

Eventually, Rick began to stumble, the cold attacking the muscles in his legs. He yelped in pain when he touched the wall for balance, quickly yanking his hand away from the ice.

The outside edge of his palm, directly under his pinkie, was raw and bright red.  

"It burned me," Rick said, astonishment laced thickly through his voice. He stared dumbly at the wall, cradling his hand to his chest, careful not to brush the burn against anything.

The Hunter swayed, moved by the force of the shudders rocking through his body. Sirius exhaled, the cold making the thin skin of his lips peel. They needed to move. Now.

Careful of Rick's hand, Sirius took the Hunter's arm over his shoulders. Rick curled into the warmth of another body subconsciously. He swore every time he stumbled, nearly dragging Sirius into the walls as the Hunter fought to get his muscles to work in the powerful cold.

Shivers wracked Sirius as well, his skin prickling painfully with the frost. He'd never passed through this gauntlet in his human form before. 

Time seemed to stretch even for him as they battled through. The grim knowledge that they would freeze solid if they stopped loomed over them. Sirius didn't know if that would kill him, but didn't really fancy spending the rest of eternity as an ice sculpture if it didn't.

A small whimper slipped from between Rick's teeth as the cold deepened even further, however impossible that seemed. The tips of Sirius' fingers were numb and ghostly white. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to keep his eyes open, but Rick's had already been forced closed by the chill.

The warmth was quickly spooled out of him with every breath into the frozen air, leaving his insides riddled with frost. Rick had his face buried against Sirius' shoulder, desperately trying to find a way to take a breath that wouldn't result in shattered lungs.

"I c-can't f-feel my..." Rick struggled to speak, his words thick and slurred, barely intelligible past his chattering teeth. "Legs," he finally gasped. "Or... arms."

Sirius didn't waste the energy it would take to respond. Numbness was creeping through his own muscles. His ears were ringing, a sharp, aching pressure building inside them. The cold cracked the inside of his nose, the blood freezing on his upper lip before it had the chance to drip to the floor.

Keep moving. You have to keep moving. Galloway's voice echoed in his skull.

Sirius would have rolled his eyes if he didn't think they'd pop out and rattle across the floor like marbles. He managed a few more steps, feeling like he was walking across a bed of nails. 

The freeze was longer than he remembered.

Rick started mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. Sirius let him be. Even he had to admit they could use a little help if this cold went on for much longer.

It was becoming difficult to keep his hold on the Hunter, his fingers tingling and unresponsive. Sirius staggered forward two more steps, and blackness enveloped them.

Magic plucked at his brain, tapping into his nervous system and leaving him nearly crippled with pain. Rick was jerked away from him, making a surprised snarl tear at Sirius' frozen throat. He lunged in the direction he thought the Hunter had been, just to smack into something hard and drop to the floor.

He stared at the thin, striped industrial carpet in confusion for a second, blinking stupidly.

Something had... something had just happened. He was...

The thought evaporated when he pushed himself up to peer over the edge of a bed. Galloway was laughing at him. 

Sirius frowned, sitting back on his heels as he tried to remember where they were. The days seemed blurred, which wouldn't have been unusual... if Galloway wasn't here.

None of his time with her was blurred. It was crystal clear.

Sometimes places ran together, though. Memphis, maybe? Or... Carson City?

His thoughts slipped away like water through his fingers. Thinking seemed like such a monumental effort. Especially when she was grinning at him like that. Her hair was gloriously ruffled, like someone had been running their fingers through the silky strands. He hoped it had been him.

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it. She tilted her head curiously, rolling over to the side of the bed so her face was barely an inch from his. He swallowed, and again tried to speak.

What was he going to say?

Confused, he looked around. What had he done last night? What had... they done?

Everything was a little foggy. A little dull at the edges. Sirius wondered if he'd taken something last night. That would be weird. He hadn't needed a hit since he'd met her. She was all the drug he wanted. Needed.

Looking down, he found he was naked. Looking back up, his mouth went dry when he realized Galloway was wearing nothing but his shirt.

Small, red dots on the side of her throat made him frown. Teeth marks. His teeth marks. 

He thought. He didn't know. He had no memory.

But that was admittedly odd. Even when he did bite her, he was careful about where and how badly. He couldn't always control his more wolfish features, but...

Again the thought trailed away.

"We've got time," she said coyly, propping herself up on her elbows. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease him.

Time.

"Do we?" he asked, even as she brushed her mouth against his. "Have time, I mean?"

Galloway didn't answer, instead continuing to just barely kiss him. Lips and teeth taunted his mouth, driving him insane.

Time. 

They... they didn't have... time. They'd never had time. The clock had always been counting down on them. 

Sirius threw himself backwards. Galloway's startled expression was the last thing he saw before he went through a pane of glass he couldn't see, but could certainly feel as shards snagged at his skin and clothes.

A hollow, desperate breath rattled in his chest as his eyes popped open. Hell. He was in Hell. Warmth was seeping across his skin, burrowing into his flesh and beginning to burn. 

Beside him, Rick lay curled on the floor, body steaming as sudden heat melted the ice that had accumulated on his clothes, skin and hair. His eyes shifted beneath closed lids. The skin around his eyes was red and swollen. 

Carefully, his blood feeling like it was cracking and melting in his veins, Sirius stretched out a hand. He barely touched the Hunter's shoulder and Rick bolted upright, looking around wildly.

Then he curled in on himself, swearing in pain. Sirius leaned back against the wall, just to immediately lurch away from it as the warm stone seared his frozen flesh. 

The heat actually hurt as blood began to flow properly. Needles moved through his veins, pricking and poking at the underside of his skin, banishing the cold with vicious fire. 

Rick met his eyes and groaned, "Now I know how a frozen dinner must feel."

That might have been funny if it wasn't so true.

Something painfully hot pattered onto the back of Sirius' hand, and he looked down just as more blood dripped onto his skin. He brushed his fingers under his nose, wiping away the now thawed nose-bleed.

"What was that?" Rick asked quietly, inspecting his ice-burned palm. 

Sirius just shook his head. He'd known about the freeze surrounding this level, but it had never been that bad before. And the vision—or whatever that had been—was a new addition.

"What did you see?" the Hunter pressed, whispering now. He was staring steadily at Sirius, his grey eyes dull and suspicious.

Sirius' lip curled back, showing his teeth. "Same thing I always see."

A soft snort was the only response he got before Rick struggled to his feet. He ran his undamaged hand through his hair, knocking loose several droplets of melted frost. After a moment, Sirius followed suit, looking over his shoulder.

The hall that stretched behind them was harmless-looking enough. Dimly lit, made of stone. Not a single trace of killer cold or ice.

He used the hem of his shirt to clean the last of the blood from his nose. The heat was still working hard on them both. Rick cautiously flexed his fingers, inspecting his hands for frostbite. The burn on his palm looked particularly nasty.

Sirius looked down curiously to find his own hands had returned to a more normal color. The joints of his knuckles creaked and popped when he curled his fingers into loose fists, testing mobility.

Theron's scent hit him like a bullet.

Sirius snarled, fangs sharpening, claws lengthening, which cracked the still-frigid skin around his nail beds. Rick's hand went to the sword hilt at his shoulder, his eyes narrow.

"We're close," Sirius muttered around his fangs, wincing as they cut into his mouth. Concentrating, he tried to force them toward a more human flatness, but it was an exercise in futility.

He wasn't shaking with the cold anymore and the red hazing around the edge of his vision wasn't from burst blood vessels. Every rabid, wild fantasy he'd had since that mind-breaking night danced through his skull in a tantalizing line of insidious need.

Peeling the skin from every inch of Theron's body while he was awake and screaming was particularly enticing. Shaving off little bits of meat until he was nothing but a pile of bloody rags had its charms as well. Maybe he'd carve out the demon bastard's heart, just so he could lay it at her feet—like that one fairytale. A huntsman and his queen bathing in the blood of their enemies.

He almost laughed at that. She was the Hunter, not him.

Fingers snapping an inch from his face had him blinking as he swam back from the very edges of his already questionable morality. Rick was no longer pale with cold death and he'd cut away a section of his shirt to wrap his hand up.

"Let's go," he said, jerking his head in the same direction Sirius had been staring blindly. 

Sirius didn't need to be told twice.

It was nearly the hardest thing he'd ever done, creeping slowly down the hall, listening carefully at the array of doors they now passed. Sirius directed the darkness to muffle their scents, the noise of their passing, which was already almost non-existent. 

These halls usually were quiet—except for the screams. They shattered through the air, dragging fingernails down the very bones of his spine and setting his teeth on edge. It was hard not to listen for her. It was harder knowing he might be hearing her right now and not realize it.

"Caleb and Rhys will get her," Rick said, his voice so soft as to nearly be silent.

Sirius tilted his head slightly, not bothering to look back. "I'll believe that when I have her safe in my arms again."

"That's safe?" Rick muttered, and Sirius rolled his eyes but didn't respond.

He could see the door leading into Theron's office and excitement was dancing along his skin. The darkness thickened around him, strands brushing along his arms and neck, twining around his fingers, whispering in his ear.

Soon, he told it. Very soon.

Time's almost up.

The warning made him frown, but he wasn't about to test the darkness over this. And one more reason to bleed the bastard like a stuck pig didn't hurt, either. He pulled the shadows closer, darkening the hall before he turned to Rick. In brief detail, he sketched out how the demon's office was arranged. The Hunter listened intently, drawn sword resting against his shoulder.

"Just remember," Sirius said. "I have to kill him."

Rick raised an incredulous brow, and Sirius snarled in response, taking a step closer to the Hunter. Nose to nose, Rick's eyes flared gold with instinctual challenge and prideful anger. He placed a hand on Sirius' chest and shoved him backwards.

Snarling, Sirius stayed right where he was. "If I don't kill him, the blood won't count against the debt," he reminded the Hunter. "You kill him, Caleb and I are puppy chow for the darkness. Souls sucked out and destroyed, returned to the Void. There's no coming back from that. We won't exist any more."

Rick grimaced, turning his head slightly. After another moment, Sirius backed away, trying not to flash his teeth. He continued to stare at the other man until Rick finally nodded his understanding. 

It was a sobering moment, in a small way. Sirius clicked his claws together absently at his sides. Killing Theron wasn't just about revenge—it was also to repay a debt of Sirius' own. Still, he couldn't regret the oath he'd made. After all, it hadn't killed him yet, and it had provided more good than harm, forcing the Hunters' hand when he'd most needed it. 

Sirius took a final breath, slow and deep. His heart fluttered against the back of his sternum as he took those final few steps to the last door. Theron was less than eight feet away.

Less than eight feet away from everything he had earned. Less than eight feet away from the terrible vengeance churning Sirius' stomach into a heaving ocean of blood. 

If only Theron had an ocean's worth of blood to spill.

Slowly, Rick put his injured hand on the doorknob. All traces of emotion had left him, his eyes showing nothing but steely resolve and trained killing efficiency. Sparks of gold still flickered across the grey irises, like lightning in a storm.

A storm.

Sirius' breath slowed, his heart beating in his ears, the storm of his emotions pushing him right up to the edge of monstrosity. 

He could see the irony—the fact that she was a monster hunter, and that he would turn into the worst sort of depraved evil for her if that's what was needed to keep her safe. He had been balancing on that edge for a while now, teetering toward the drop below.

With a shake of his head, he yanked himself back from that edge once again, and nodded at the Hunter.

Rick turned the handle slowly, silently.

A heave of muscle threw the door open and Sirius stalked inside.