Burning Road

Bad Blood- Part I

He was dreaming again.  Their corpses lay on a heap of ruined cars, dressed exactly as they'd been on that fateful night.  Yet they were different.  It wasn't his mom and dad this time,  but him and Charlie.  In her arms was a baby girl.  Sitting on the throne of bones was Kanen 'Littlehawk' Locklear.  The demon was riding him, filling his eyes with an unearthly blue flame yet Littlehawk was in full control.  He was no puppet but a willing vessel for the monster that resided over the carnage like a vile despot.

As always, Khouri challenged the demonic ruler for the souls of the fallen, but this time it wasn't Castle but Littlehawk that accepted.  It was usually only the demon whose identity changed but this time it was the demon, the dead couple, and even the terms of the battle.  The monster rose and thrust his hands skyward, calling down a rain of flaming hail fiery and cold all at once.  Littlehawk's expression was dispassionate, calm.  He was perpetually in the serene mindspace of combat readiness, ready to dive into all out battle at a moment's notice.

The demon drew a long broadsword, flames dancing just beneath the steel, Khouri produced his matching golden daggers.  Littlehawk was an expert in close combat, but Khouri was determined to defeat him. The souls of  his loved ones depended on him.

He charged towards his opponent with supernatural speed, and just as his blades should have connected Littlehawk evaded with catlike grace and brought his blade across the dreamer's back.  The pain was sharp and immediate, and before he could recover the demon cut his legs out from under him.  Khouri fell to the glass strewn street, searing waves of pain washing over his body.  Littlehawk kicked one dagger aside and ground his boot into Prince's wrist until he released the other.  The demon stood over him, devilish sword raised high.

"Time to die, Mr. Prince," he said infuriatingly calm.

"Fuck y-". The blade bit deep into his chest, flames spilling out to feed on his corpse.

Khouri awoke, sweat soaked and gasping for air.  The demon had defeated him once more, Littlehawk had defeated him.  He'd failed Charlie and their daughter.  The house phone rang again, startling Prince to full wakefulness.  He was laying on the floor in the living room.  He hadn't wanted to ruin the old couch with fitful sleep, and he'd given up the bed in his old room to the girls.  His old sleeping bag still kind of fit so it wasn't too uncomfortable.  All in all, Prince had slept in worse places.

The phone rang once more as Aunt Maurine rushed in and answered.

"Good morning, Jeffers residences."

Prince sat up and rerolled his bag.  He was reaching for his cell when he noticed her panicked expression.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Castle," she said.

Her eyes were wide.  Khouri went over to her, his own phone forgotten.  She wore a confused look, and before he could ask any questions she handed him the phone.  Reluctantly he put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"It's been a while, Little Prince."  It was Castle, Prince recognized the voice and the nickname he'd always hated immediately.

"What do you want, Castle?"

"I want a lot of things, Prince.  At this very moment I want to be in my bed enjoying a late morning.  Instead I'm running red lights and wasting gas.  Do you know why?"

"I'm not interested in your sleeping habits," Khouri growled.

"You should be.  I'm breaking traffic laws to get to Moses' house before Thomas Denver and his rabid dogs get there.  Ahh, a rare moment when you bite your tongue," Castle scoffed. "I got a call about ten minutes ago telling me that someone thinks you're there and that Thomas's team is moving in.  Pretty sloppy getting your aunt and uncle involved."