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       When Argent didn't answer twelve phone calls, concern had been raised.

       And when the group of Elora, Charlie, Allison, Scott and Isaac arrived at the apartment complex less than ten minutes later, they found a bloodied Chris unconscious in the entryway of the home.

       "Holy-" Allison ran to her father the moment she saw his body, collapsing down next to him. "He's bleeding. Dad? Dad?"

       Elora ducked past Isaac and Charlie, joining Allison on the floor. She lowered her head towards his chest, listening closely. "He's still breathing."

       "Go get the first aid kit," Allison said over her shoulder, aimed at anyone listening.

       "You don't need to," Elora countered. "Charlie and I can heal him." She turned Chris' head, the hunter slowly regaining consciousness. "Chris, can you hear me?"

       Argent only mumbled, fog clouding his eyes and ears.

       "Help me get him up," Elora said as she began to shift him, wanting to move him from the hallway.

       "We'll do it," Scott offered, volunteering Isaac with him. "Where do you want him?"

       "Office," replied Allison as the boys hoisted Chris up, careful not to hurt him further.

       Argent had begun to wake up, taking in his surroundings as he was sat at him own desk. He groaned in mild pain, a Danielson surfacing on either side of him as he could finally see straight. His concentration slowly returned, Elora's palm emitting a soft pulse of light against his forehead.

       The audience watching Chris, although zapped clean of glow paint and attire changed if necessary by Elora and Charlie, still showed signs of wear.

       "They came," Elora told Argent as she took her palm away. "To the party, they came. They all saw."

       Chris softly sighed, unaware a light touch of Charlie's finger was removing a gash along his temple. "The first time I saw them was in Japan, when I was eighteen. Gerard had brought me on an arms deal, and it went bad, fast. They showed, slaughtering anyone who tried to stop them from getting to the buyer."

       "His eyes were glowing," Scott assumed, sat in a chair on the other side of Argent's desk.

       "There was something almost ritualistic about it. Like it was looking right into his soul."

       "That's the same thing it did to me," Isaac said, the memory burned into his head.

       Allison sat on the edge of the desk, "That's what they did to everyone."

       "Not everyone," said Scott after a moment. "They only came after the werewolves."

       "And Lydia," countered Allison.

       "Anyone with a connection to the supernatural," Argent said.

       Isaac sat on the arm of the plush chair next to Scott, "Then who was the guy they went after in Japan?"'

       "A kumicho. A Yakuza boss," explained Chris. "It was my first gun deal. It was supposed to be a simple exchange, except Gerard left out the minor detail of the buyers being Yakuza. He wanted to see if I could adapt in the moment. Testing my ability to improvise."

       "Or your ability to survive," commented Allison, well aware of her grandfather's thought process.

       "The moment the sun went down it was like they materialized out of the shadows. They had swords, not curved like katanas but straight, black steel. Like ninjatos."

Pure  ×  Isaac LaheyWhere stories live. Discover now