"The safest road to hell is the gradual one."

- C.S. Lewis

                                                                                   ***

Sirius placed his mouth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, dragging her from the doze she had slipped into despite her best efforts. She turned her head slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye. His hair tickled at the edge of her cheekbone as he shook his head. She bit her lip, eyes closing halfway when he kissed the side of her throat

"This isn't a dream," he murmured.

"Can you dream in Hell?" she asked. Her pulse fluttered in her throat beneath his mouth.

"Of course you can. Otherwise, how could you remember all the things that have been taken from you?" He tugged at her shoulder, rolling her over so that she was looking at him. He traced her lips with the very tips of his fingers. "It's just another way to hurt you."

She turned her head, and he dropped his hand. Sitting up, she slung her legs over the side of the bed. "Did they say why they decided to take you?"

"They wanted to ask if you knew the Hunter, among other things."

"What other things?" Galloway asked, her stomach heavy as lead.

Sirius sighed and rolled onto his back, fingers probing at his abdomen like he was checking for any more holes. "Do we have to do this?"

She leaned forward, head in her hands. "Why did they care if I knew Caleb or not?"

"It's Caleb now, huh?" Sirius asked, and she almost couldn't believe that he would even care in light of recent events. "When did that happen?"

"After they—after you—" She took a deep breath. "After you were taken, he showed up. Turns out I saved his life once and he felt he owed me. He got me back home after your brother warned me I was getting a new Hellhound."

Sirius immediately sat up. "What did Khali do?" he asked, voice a low snarl.

"So you admit he's your brother?" She frowned at herself. She had almost expected him to deny it.

"Brother?" He snorted. "We were whelped by the same bitch. Doesn't mean we're spending weekends at the ballpark and crying on each other's shoulder. But if you mean do I admit we share some of the same genetic material, then yeah, I guess he's my brother. Did he do anything to you?"

She shook her head and he flopped back down with a deep sigh. "Christ, the smell of that place is burned into my nose." A startled grunt escaped her when his hand hooked around her hip, yanking her into him. "I won't do anything. Just stay here until it goes away," he whispered against her ear.

Once more, he buried his face into her hair. She shivered when his cool breath touched the skin on the side of her neck. "Why'd they care if I knew Caleb or not?" she asked again.

"They neglected to say." There was a small silence. "There honestly didn't seem to be a whole lot of logic to their questions," he muttered. "Usually they drive toward one point. They asked about him, then they asked what I knew about you... They asked about nothing sometimes."

"What did you tell them?" she whispered. His arm snaked farther around her waist, his chest pressing into her back. His body was warm against hers.

"Nothing that couldn't afford to be said. As far as you, they know you've been hunting since the late fifties, no earlier, and I might have used the term frostbite concerning what I thought of you. As for the Hunter, I honestly thought I was telling the truth when I said you didn't know him."

"I didn't know him before. He's the one that decided to stick around," she said, the words spilling out in a rush. She bit her lip, annoyed that she cared what he thought about her relationship—or lack thereof—with Caleb. "Frostbite?"

He pressed his face harder into her hair, making her wonder if he could actually breathe like that. "Sometimes the questions got personal. Sometimes downright nasty," he said, voice muffled.

"Is that what you actually think?" she asked, then closed her eyes. Stupid question.

"Depends on the day." He sighed as she tensed. "Can we stop talking about this?"

"Fine," she said before trying to pull away. 

He resisted for a second then let go and she stood up, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was much too early for Logan to be here. Gnawing at her lip, she looked at Sirius, who was staring at his hands. The nails had grown back and she watched as he let his claws slide out experimentally. He made them morph back to normal human nails, then ran his hands through his hair.

Galloway eyed the blood still splattered over him. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll fix some coffee."

"Make it Irish." Sirius groaned as he got out of the bed and moved toward the bathroom. He stopped when he drew near her. "Theron asked if you were still interested in keeping your Soul." She held her breath. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head back to make her meet his grave gaze. "He seemed to like the answer I gave him."

"What answer was that?" she rasped.

He skimmed that finger over her throat, then down her arm. "That he'd never be able to log your Soul into the books. You might push others in, but you'd never jump yourself."

"Son of a bitch," she said with a sigh. "Before Theron brought you back, Rhys, Caleb and I were having a little powwow on that. The new theory is that something with a Soul has to do the ritual."

Sirius nodded, though he didn't look very pleased. He raised an eyebrow. "I was pretty sure I was hallucinating, but you seemed to be remarkably underdressed for that kind of company."

She gave him a half-smile. "You must have been hallucinating."

He narrowed his eyes then shook his head, taking an unconscious step closer. "I don't suppose that's a habit you've fallen into since I've been gone?"

She frowned, her mind immediately flashing to the fact that Theron probably thought she was sleeping with both Rhys and Caleb.

Then Sirius said, "I really wouldn't mind if you wanted to walk around without your clothes. It is your apartment after all."

A laugh burst out and she covered her mouth with a hand, trying to stifle it. "Sorry. I get cold too easily."

He heaved a sigh then flinched violently, shooting to the other side of the bed when the front door banged opened. Galloway's lips parted as he stood trembling on the opposite side of the room. He closed his eyes and shook himself like a wet dog. "Half of Hell is theatrics," he managed past clenched teeth. "They like to make grand entrances before they start removing bits and pieces."

"Galloway?" Caleb's voice called.

Sirius was still shaking, his claws biting into his palms. Carefully, making sure she didn't do anything to startle him further, Galloway walked across the room. She stood right in front of him, but he didn't open his eyes, fighting his way through something. Some blood soaked memory.

Placing her hand on the back of his neck, she brought his head down until it rested on her shoulder. His hands came up, his fingers grazing over her waist and ribs until they cupped her face. Whispering, he said, "If I asked, would you—"

She turned her head and his mouth met hers before he'd even finished the question. It was justified by thinking that he needed it more than she needed her dubious obedience to Hell's rules at the moment.

It started off soft, just something to get him to remember that he wasn't in Hell anymore. Then, like he wasn't quite in control, one hand slid down to her waist and his tongue was in her mouth. He pressed her back until her legs hit the side of the bed and they fell.

The fingers of his other hand were wrapped around her wrist, pinning her arm to the side. He was on his hands and knees over the top of her, stealing the breath right from her mouth, and she was falling through the fog he created.

From his own rapid breathing, she deduced that he was falling with her.

She lifted her head, pressing her mouth harder into his, and gasped when his canine sliced into the side of her mouth. He kissed the cut lightly, then bit her lower lip, drowning any sensations that were less than pleasant. Her free hand slipped over his ribcage to press into the muscles of his back. He leaned in farther, mouth hard on hers. His fingers slipped under her shirt, claws scraping gently against the sensitive skin of her lower stomach. Galloway moaned as the sensation sent fire racing through her veins.

"Hey, I—Jesus H. Christ!"

Galloway tore herself away from Sirius and turned her head to find Caleb standing in the open door of the bedroom, disgust written all over his face. Sirius didn't move, his chest heaving as he stared down at her, eyes wide and lips parted. 

Caleb wheeled and went back into the living room, slamming the door shut behind him. Sirius didn't flinch this time. She let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her heart going eight miles a minute. Cautiously, she looked back up at Sirius. "I need to talk to him."

His tongue touched his upper lip, tasting the blood that had smeared onto his mouth from hers. A troubled expression passed over his face as he nodded and got up. She blew out a small breath, then forced herself to her feet.

He slipped into the bathroom connected to the room, and she faced the door leading to Caleb with dread. She pressed the knuckle of her forefinger to the cut on her lip, making it sting, then threw the door open. The Hunter was sitting on the couch, arms crossed.

"Oh, don't give me that look," she said, a warning in her tone. The last thing she needed was another lecture.

"What look would that be?" he said, voice frosty.

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to tame it. "Like you disapprove," she said, putting a hand on her hip. "You're not my brother, and you're not my dad."

"I am concerned," he said, hurt flashing in his dark eyes.

She scoffed. "You knew. Both you and Rhys knew what it meant as soon as Theron dropped him on my living room floor." She looked meaningfully at the blood still staining the light ash wood.

He sat forward. "So that's it? You just...disregard everything we talked about because he's back? You forget everything about how Hell wants you to pop its top in favor of sticking your tongue down his throat?"

"You don't have a tactful bone in your body, do you?" She pursed her lips and turned away from him, going to the kitchen. Wondering what he was doing here, she pulled out some floor cleaner and a rag, hoping she didn't have to ruin her floors with bleach.

She fixed the solution and went back around to the bloodstain, sinking to her knees to scrub away the mess. Caleb crouched down next to her. "Galloway, answer me."

Tossing her hair out of her face, she glared at him. "I haven't forgotten anything, okay? But he just got out of Hell. I think I can afford some kindness."

"He's a Hellhound," he hissed. "He doesn't care about kindness and he doesn't need it. He doesn't even freaking know what kindness is!"

She scrubbed harder at the floor, the blood coming up reluctantly, but coming up all the same. Caleb grabbed her wrist to still her motions. "They asked him about me while he was down there, and he didn't tell them a goddamn thing," she snapped. "He lied to them while they were ripping him apart. Granted, he's had a few hundred years to practice that, but still. I think you can say it's the thought that counts. Now tell me why, exactly, he doesn't deserve something for his efforts?"

"What did they want to know?" he asked, not letting go of her wrist.

She pried his fingers away. "The only thing important enough to mention was that Theron seemed to like the idea that I wasn't ever going to give up my Soul. Guess you were right. Congratulations."

Caleb sat on the floor, elbows propped on his knees. "Maybe he's just lying to you," he said, scrubbing a hand through his unusually messy hair.

"Well that's always a possibility, but it works out so much better for me when I tell her the truth," Sirius said from behind her, making her jump.

She looked over her shoulder at him, surprised to find him with wet hair and nothing on except a pair of dark jeans. He held out his arms, like he expected Caleb to search him. After a moment, she realized he was showing them the livid purple scars that created a zigzagging, slashed border around his abdomen.

"They didn't use anything that'll make these permanent," he said at her wide-eyed look, "but the evidence will stick around for a couple days. Just as a little reminder." His eyes turned cold when he looked at Caleb, who had risen to his feet. "Take a good look and explain to me why I would put up with this unless I wanted to keep those sons of bitches firmly locked away."

Caleb cast a startled look at Galloway, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. "He's the one who told me about it in the first place, Caleb. And he doesn't want Hell opened any more than we do," she said, still looking at the nearly healed wounds.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," he said in exasperation. "Why?"

Sirius lowered his arms and gave him a nasty smile. "What other reason could I possibly have to let them peel me like a fucking onion instead of just telling them what they want to hear?"

Caleb's jaw worked furiously for a moment, then he looked down at her. "You really trust him?"

Sirius watched her, his face giving away nothing. Galloway stared at him, really thinking about it. Caleb crossed his arms, waiting for her answer. "Yeah," she finally said. "Yeah, I trust he doesn't want demons up here crashing the party."

Sirius' eyes narrowed and he shifted, but the movement was tiny. She pretended not to see it as she looked up at the Hunter.

Caleb's mouth pressed into an indecisive line, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. "I'm not asking you to work with, trust or like him," she said, eventually taking pity on him. "You just need to accept that I do."

The Hunter visibly struggled for another moment before nodding. "Okay. I don't like it, but okay. If that's how it has to be—"

"It does," she interrupted.

He nodded again, then looked at Sirius. "I'll be watching you."

"I'm flattered," Sirius said with a smirk.

"Ah, go screw yourself," Caleb said, turning away from the Hound. He threw himself back onto the couch, and she continued to scrub at the blood. 

Sirius slipped past her on his way toward the kitchenette, fingers accidentally brushing her shoulder. He made himself something to drink, then stayed on that side of the counter, staring at Caleb through heavy-lidded eyes. 

Caleb, thankfully, decided to ignore this. "So do we actually have any way to guarantee that they can't do the spell?"

"What, Rhys doesn't have any ideas?" Galloway asked. Sirius' eyes flicked to her before he trained his gaze back on Caleb. 

Caleb's mouth twisted into a scowl at the mention of the witch. "How is Logan even related to him?" he asked, aggrieved. 

She laughed, the sound small. "You actually stayed with Logan?"

He threw his hands up into the air. "Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?"

Shaking her head, she bent back to her task with a small smile, and Caleb sighed. "He has no clue. He dragged us into a research session that lasted until four this morning, but we couldn't find anything that might make this better."

"Better?" Sirius snorted. "I think her getting to keep her Soul automatically counts as better." Galloway looked up to find him watching her. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyebrows drawing together. "But I think I understand the whore's problem."

"Whore?" Caleb asked.

At the same time, Galloway said, "Rhys."

"Sirius, I already told you, Rhys didn't make any Deals for his power. He's not selling anything." She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

Caleb suddenly snorted, then turned away like he refused to be amused by this. Sirius rolled his eyes, propping his chin on his hand.

She started scrubbing again. "Care to explain?"

He heaved out a sigh, like it should be obvious. "Before, you just had to keep your Soul. Easy enough, right?"

"Speak for yourself," she muttered, and he frowned.

"Speaking for you. You seem to have managed just fine." He poured himself some coffee. "Now we don't know what the lynchpin is. It could be any number of triggers before Theron gets to drag you down and have his fun."

She grimaced. "I wish you wouldn't put it that way."

"Could you be a trigger?" Caleb asked, his eyes narrowed, like talking to Sirius put a bad taste in his mouth.

Sirius took a sip of coffee, never taking his gaze off the Hunter. Finally, he put the cup down and came around the counter. Caleb was instantly on his feet, fingers twitching toward the gun inside his jacket. Galloway redoubled her efforts to remove the last of the stain, figuring it was best to let them work it out, just as long as nothing got fatal.

She yelped when Sirius took her wrist and dragged her to her feet. She blinked up at him, her hands resting on his biceps. Quick as a snake, his fingers tangled into her hair, tilting her head back. Her lips parted automatically under his, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, crushing herself against him.

Then he pulled away, making her stagger. He leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. She blinked so rapidly it was like everything was on a shutter—just small pictures strung together to create a reality. When she looked at Caleb, she found his jaw clenched tightly, his fingers curled into fists. She pursed her lips and let her breath stream out before turning toward Sirius. 

The muscles in his neck were corded, but otherwise he appeared remarkably calm. He glanced around, his movements theatrical. "Well. No Theron coming to take her to Hell. I would say that's a no."

Caleb shook his head, his lip curling. He put away the gun she hadn't realized he'd drawn, then dragged his hand through his hair. He rubbed unconsciously at his mouth. "Unnecessary," he hissed.

"I beg to differ," Sirius retorted, drawing her attention. "Completely necessary."

She swallowed, her throat dry. "Why are you here, Caleb?" she said, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it.

He brushed his hand over his mouth again. "Logan said something about taking you to your mechanic, but Rhys threw a bitch fit about how he needed Logan's help. I volunteered."

"Right. Milo." She paused and frowned. "How did you get in here?"

He held up a key. "Rhys thought I might need this."

"No, Rhys wanted you to burst in on me." She sneered, shaking her head. "He can never leave well enough alone, can he?" she said under her breath.

"Well, he wasn't wrong," Caleb remarked and she flipped him off.

"Are you coming?" She turned to Sirius.

Caleb shook his head. "Oh, hell no! I didn't say—"

She smiled. "You broke into my apartment and have insulted me at least three times before noon. You can sit in the same space as him for an hour or two."

Turning back to Sirius, she raised an eyebrow in question, and he frowned.

"On the one hand, I have to spend a few hours with him?" He held up one hand, palm toward the ceiling. "On the other, I get to see these mystery cars of yours?" He held up the other hand in the same fashion. Acting like he was weighing the options, he grinned. "Count me in," he said, fluttering his eyelashes at Caleb. 

Galloway knew that she was going to regret this, but hadn't wanted to leave him alone so soon after last night.

"I hold no responsibility if he gets shot today," Caleb warned, spinning towards the door before slamming it shut behind him.

Sirius walked past her to his room and she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "We need to talk when we get back."

He looked over her, then back down. "The only one who knows what gives Theron the go ahead is Theron." He stepped closer, his hand going to her hip and she sighed when his nose skimmed along her jaw. "Do we have to assume that all the old rules still stand?" he asked, his voice quiet.

She swallowed, looking toward the ceiling. His arms tightened around her as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "I don't want to tempt fate," she said, trying to convince herself more than him.

He huffed out a laugh. "No. You just want to tempt me."

"What is it you want, Sirius?" she asked as his lips pressed against her throat.

He shook his head then pulled back, smiling grimly. "Same thing as always. The things that are bad for me."

She frowned and he let her go, disappearing into his room. Biting her lip, she quickly changed her own stained clothes while he found a shirt. They went down to the parking lot to find Caleb on the phone. His back was to them, but his voice carried on the thin, cool air.

"Yeah, Alex. No it's just...this is something I can't step away from right now."

Galloway slowed down, Sirius following suit with a raised eyebrow. She jumped when Caleb's voice suddenly rose in volume. 

"No! Alex, look, Rick is a big boy. If you've got a problem with what he's doing, then you need to deal with it. I'm busy." A small silence, then he barked a laugh. "Yeah, I know I'm a dick. But what I'm doing right now is serious. Like, end of the world as we know it serious. I've talked to Rick, so ask him about it when he starts answering the phone again... Yes, I do know he's going to answer the phone." Caleb turned, frowning when he saw them. "I'll talk to you later," he said.

He ended the call, then stuffed the phone in his pocket. Not bothering to ask, Galloway looked at the single cab of his truck and sighed. "I guess I'm sitting bitch," she said, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat.

Caleb held his hands up in surrender. "You said it, not me. How long is this going to take?"

She swung herself up into the cab, scooting to the middle seat, glaring at the gear shift between her legs. Swearing silently in her head as Sirius got in on the passenger side and Caleb slid into the driver's seat, she wondered how impossible it would be to just walk to Milo's.

Caleb started the truck and reached forward then hesitated, his hand hovering in the air. A little entertained by his discomfort, she lifted her eyes to his and he sighed. Carefully, he asked, "Am I going to lose a hand today?"

She smiled. "We'll see."

He narrowed his eyes, then put the truck into first, his forearm grazing the inside of her thigh. A small growl filled the cab, and she turned to look at Sirius. She opened her mouth to tell him to behave, then startled when he knocked Caleb's hand away and hooked his hand under her knee, dragging her leg over to his side of the truck.

She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing at them.

This was going to be a long day in a string of long days.