Promised to a Gargoyle King but the Werewolf King wants us.

Chapter 7 - I'd alter all space, time and hair for you, baby.

Kate fell.

All she could think was 'please don't let me fall into a wall', 'please don't let me fall into a wall', as she fell for a few seconds. For Damien, she'd do anything, even if anything meant she had to briefly admit she was supernatural for three seconds in order to get back. That Gargoyle wasn't the only one who could do flashy transport stuff.

She fell straight onto the hot roof of the burning car. Okay. Bad idea. A hand grabbed her, firm, kind of sweaty, Tanks hoisting her sideways as he stared above Kate. At the wormhole. What? Was he really so shocked that she had to use quantum physics to achieve 'magic'? Shesh.

She ignored that, it was gone a second later, she was hoisting Damien out into her arms and carrying him hard up the staircase, his head lolling around, his chest a little too still. What else had this mark thing done? Kate wasn't sure.

She lowered him down and breathed out with relief as he coughed and flinched as burnt skin touched a pepsi can. Okay. Yeah. That wasn't nice.

“Someone should clean this up. Can you call an ambulance, Golide?”

Elf did it. Everyone else just stared at Kate with wide eyes, jaws open, the entire Guild rendered silent by Kate's abrupt re-entry into reality.

Okay. This was why she didn't do anything. “What? Haven't you ever seen someone alter the space time continuum and travel via wormhole?”

Apparently not.

She felt a breeze across her head and reached up to touch it. Apparently neither had all her hair. Kate had left it behind. She was now baby bum bald.

“Kate?” Damien croaked, reaching up, and she leaned down to kiss him. He'd been burnt up one side. Really fucking nasty. Kate felt his hands run over her scalp and his eyes blink up at her. “What did you do at work today?”

He was joking.

She leaned against his good shoulder, shaking, as he held a bit tighter. “Sorry. I'm so sorry. We seriously need to talk.”

“At hospital. Look.” Damien nudged her gently, his eyes shutting. “I remembered the rapier.” He held it up in his good hand, still concealed in a long bag, and looked pretty proud with himself. He told this to the ambulance people too and only let it go when Kate took it. Apparnetly no one else was aloud to play with his rapier.

Then, as the pain meds kicked in from some thing he had to suck on, he repeated that joke several dozen times, grinning like a little boy, while Goldie's face burnt up and the medics kept sharing looks.

"Okay. We'll take him to hospital. He should be safe to move."

He better be. He was on a board, neck in a brace, and they'd done something to the burns. They said they were second degree but the pain was pretty bad- hense the 'pain med whistle'. Or whatever it was they'd called it. They'd handed Damien a thing and said suck on this when you're in pain.