At the hospital:

Miranda *sits very quietly in the cab, preparing herself for the ordeal of entering the hospital again.  All the memories flood back in her little confused brain, the beeping machines she was tied to when she woke up,  the horrible feeling of not recognizing anything or anybody, the helplessness, the fear, and then Captain Carver ... She takes a deep breath when they walk into the hospital to the reception*  Well, Ava, here we are.  *to Andrew*  We are here for a blood test.  They should be waiting for us, as well as George Jung.  *she takes Ava's hand, pretending she's doing it for her to feel safe, but she needs more the comfort than Ava as she walks the sterile corridor to the waiting room*

Ava *smiling she takes Miranda hand and squeezes it*  Everything will be ok Miranda.  *they walk the corridor to get to the waiting room. Ava looks at Miranda she can hear Don and George bickering like old ladies*  Ok Miranda there is one more person here than what you expected to be here, I had to get Don here, I just want to make sure he isn't up to anything. Miranda here is some advice if does tries it on with you, you just say my those late nights are catching up *laughs* actually thinking about it you best not he may go slightly crazy. *Sam starts to wiggle* Sam keep still honey I know you want to be down but not just yet *Ava mumbles something in his ear which makes him go some what still and quiet*  there there little one.

At the Security office:

Donnie *sits by his desk holding the receiver in his hand; he looks over at Grace sitting on the window sill*  Are you sure you want to do this?

Grace *nods* Aye, I’m sure … jus’ get ‘em in here.

Donnie:  OK … *he presses a button to dial a local number*  Would you come into my office, please, I have a job for you.  *Replaces the receiver and glances a little nervously at Grace as the door opens and Hanson and Isabella steps in*

Hanson *smiles*  Hi Chief, welcome back.  *To Grace*  Hello, Mrs. Brasco.  *Isabella meets Grace’s eyes for a second, then quickly lowers her eyes, not really sure where to look*

Grace *notices how Isabella avoids looking at both her and Donnie; as friendly a tone as she can muster*  It’s OK … I won’t be puttin’ any spells on ye or anythin’.  I know ye ain’t the husband-stealin’ type.  *Glaring shortly at Donnie, then turns her gaze to Isabella*  An’ we both know ye didn’t initiate that kiss.  *Hesitates*  An’ I sensed that ye were in a lot o’ pain yerself at that particular time … so I’ll fergive ye as well as Donnie.  *Looks at her sternly*  I’m sure ye know I’ll feel differently about it iffen it were te happen again.  *Hanson glances quizzically at Isabella*

Isabella *ignores Hanson; turns to Grace; earnestly*  I really am sorry for what happened.  Regardless of how or why it happened.  I shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

Grace *Lowers her eyes thinking to herself that she should have been there; quietly*  No, ye shouldn’t … *looks at Isabella again*  As fate would ‘ave it, we be needin’ yer help.

Donnie *clears his throat*  This isn’t official police-business as the only evidence we have that anything is going on are visions … I’ve learned not to take those lightly, but they won’t do much in a report.  *Sighs heavily*  We need your help, because you know From Hell Court, the people still trust you enough not to go silent the moment you enter a room.  Hanson will go with you as back-up just in case you need it.

Isabella *Nods*  Alright.  What am I looking for?

Grace *rises from the window-sill, hands Isabella a picture*  That man is known as Father Connolly.  A shaman who knows me from me past in Ireland …he knows about my powers as a witch an’ shaman.  ‘Ave ye ever heard o’ “The Twelve” an’ the “Thirteenth”?  *Continues as Isabella shakes her head*  The 12 be a group o’ fairly powerful shamans who be needin’ the 13^th fer a ritual that will give ‘em unspeakable powers … the 13^th must be Irish an’ descendant from both a witch an’ a shaman.  In the ritual the 13^th call on some ancient power an’ channel that power te “The Twelve”.  This will either empower the 13^th too or kill ‘er … or should I say, me.

Donnie:  Apparently, Father Connolly’s plan is to get me out of the way so that Grace will be more likely to agree to do the ritual.  We don’t know for sure that he’s even in Deppville …

Isabella: … but if he wants to hide, The Court is the most likely place …

Donnie:  Exactly.  Last time he was here with his buddies, they hid in a cabin in the woods.  Grace and I will check that out ourselves.

Grace *imploringly*  Will ye help?

Isabella *smiles a little*  Of course.

Hanson *looks at Isabella quizzically as they leave Donnie’s office; lowers his voice*  You made out with the Chief?!

Isabella *glares at him*  Shit happens …

Hanson *mutters*  Apparently …

Isabella *as they round the corner and walk down the hall towards their office, she pushes him against the wall and gazes at him harshly*  Look, I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to listen to me ranting about all my damn issues and recent mistakes, but this is none of your business!  I never intended for it to happen, I didn’t go there expecting it to happen.  But it did and there’s not much I can do about that now.  I’m moving on and I really suggest you do the same unless you actually want me to hit you!

Hanson *shrinking a little under her gaze; quietly*  Sorry, I asked …

Isabella *Sighs*  Just don’t mention it again, alright?  It wasn’t exactly my proudest moment.

Hanson *Nods*  Consider it forgotten completely!

Isabella *satisfied, smiles a little*  Good.

Hanson *they go into their office; he sits down on the desk*  So what do we do now?  Go to From Hell Court?

Isabella:  No, meet me at my place tonight; there’s never much going on in the daytime … *looks him over*  Don’t shave, keep a few stubbles … *grins a little*  And uh, try not to look too much like a puppy.  *Hanson rolls his eyes* 

At the secluded house:

Marco *to Manouche*  Your blood is different now.  It's tainted, the poison in your veins may well play some part yet.  Whether that's good or bad, I can't say.  The others have their assigned missions.  *They each nod and depart without comment*  I've been appointed this one's *Indicates Kat* keeper.  My lady doesn't wish her companions further endangered by ignorant fools.  *Glances at Ichy as the spider in Kat's hand scampers to the floor and disappears into a crevice in the wall, leaving Kat looking bereft.*

Manouche:  Poison … tainted?  Then … per’aps I’m no longer of use t’ Marchand?  *she thinks of her adventure on Enterré Vivant, fetching the Sikaimunchon for the Guardians; looks at Marco*  I know me blood still has power of some sort, I’ve ‘ad recent evidence of it.  But if I no longer need fear Marchand as I did before … then I might be th’ perfect one of us t’ try an’ deal with ‘im directly.  *pauses, trying to think of what to do; brings her hands up in frustration*  I’m at wit’s end ‘ere, mate.  I’ve no wish t’ endanger m' mate Kat or anyone else.  I can’t help but feel that Tuomas brought me ‘ere for more than bein’ told I were dead wrong awhile back.  He seemed most urgent at th’ time.  But now, between yer words an’ those o’ yer companions, I don’t know if I’m bein’ revered fer me abilities or reviled fer me poor choices to date.  Ye leave me little choice but t’ return home.  If ye can determine what it is I can do to assist … well, obviously, ye know where t’ find me.  *she turns to leave the house*

Marco:  You made the human choice.  Right or wrong should not have mattered.  Something else went wrong.  Carver shouldn't have died, that's not what my lady foresaw.  That's why she wanted to face those concerned.  She believes one of you changed what was suppose to happen either wittingly or unwittingly.  She's trying to understand.  Some of what she said was designed to test you.  She's almost certain it was one of two people.  If it wasn't you then *Lowers his voice* it was the child or perhaps both.  That power, wherever it came from, is more than a match for Marchand.  If it can be controlled.

Manouche *stops at the door, listens to him; turns, looks at him*  Nate killed Carver.  It weren’t any of us.  There were some confusion, Kat had ‘im believin’ Chiana was his child.  When Carver tried t’ take Chiana, Nate killed ‘im, with a crossbow.  Kat then managed t’ get Nate to give Chiana to ‘er.  She might ‘ave escaped but fer Marchand pointin’ out Nate’s folly.  Nate then shot Kat, an’ Marchand destroyed Nate.  *she pauses, swallows, surprised at how furious she can still feel just remembering the horrific images that finally galvanized her into destroying Marchand*  I saw all that in a vision, savvy?  That’s when I went t’ work.  I completed th’ ritual, Marchand were destroyed … at least fer a time.  An’ if I were in th’ position again, an’ I saw what I saw, I’d do it again, end of story.  It may ‘ave been a misuse of a powerful bit o’ magic, but it were all we had at th’ time.  Kat would’ve bled t’ death otherwise, or worse.  If Carver is as important a key to all this as th’ Soothsayer seems to think, ye’d never know it from Marchand’s actions.  He didn’t kill Nate fer killin’ Carver.  He killed ‘im after he saw ‘im shoot Kat.  An’ me use of magic had nothin’ to do with all that.  *she takes a deep breath, looks at Marco wearily*  So where’s that leave us, mate?

Marco:  It leaves us with the fact that Nate was inexperienced with crossbows and the arrow was meant to miss its mark.  Carver was to have gone after Nate and all Nate's bullets would have been useless against him.  Kat would never have been shot and your spell would have sent Marchand into Carver.  This unknown power changed what was meant to be by reacting to the immediate dangers and innocently made things worse.  *He pauses, frowns*  Wilder magic?  *Again looks at Chiana.*  That could explain much.  *Turning back to Manouche, holding out his hand, a crystal ball appears.*  My lady has reached a possible conclusion.  She wishes you to take this and find a place of seclusion so you may know all.  You have impressed her, and as things stand, she doubts herself.  She believes you are the one who can see clearest.

Abberline:  Wait a minute.  Are you accusing my children?  I won't hear any talk like that. And I will keep both Raven and Chiana from all this so called magic and shadowy Soothsayers trying to twist our destinies.  If all you can do here is just idle talk, I have to confront Marchand on my own to get my son back.  What about you Manouche, would you really leave Raven like that?

Marco *Sighs*  You blind yourself to reality and you will doom all those you care about.  Your wife is as bad as you are.  Going off trying to free you from that conniving pompous egotistical Portsmith.  If you want to save anyone, take your wife home and both of you try not to do anything stupid.  I know it's difficult for you.

Abberline *glares at him*  And leave my son just like that in the hands of a murderous monster?  We'll see about that.  To me, you all are just a useless bunch.  *he takes Kat's arm*  Come Kat, we are indeed going home now.  Marta and Candy can take care of you and Chiana.  I am going to fetch my son back.

Manouche *listens carefully to them both, turns to Abberline*  Fred, ye ‘ave to admit, ye confrontin’ Marchand is most likely not an effective answer.  Believe me, I'm as worried as ye are about Raven.  But .. 'ave ye forgotten th’ last time?  Marchand's apparently more powerful now than ever.  My guess is, if ye go accost ‘im on his own turf at this particular juncture, ye’ll wind up captive jus’ like Raven.  Beyond bein’ some comfort to lil’ mate, 'avin' ye there with ‘im, there’s no particular advantage to that outcome.  *she takes the crystal from Marco, looks at it curiously; looks again at Marco, anxiously*  She’s impressed with me?  Sh-she believes I’m th’ one?  *Marco nods just slightly*  Then I’d best not disappoint ‘er.  *she smiles slightly at Marco, turns to Abberline*  I can’t tell ye what t’ do, luv.  But it does seem wise t’ at least start by takin’ yer family home, where they’ll be safer an’ comfortable.  *she walks up to Abberline, brings a hand to Chiana’s head, gently brushes her fine black hair, brings her fingertips to Chiana's cheek.  Chiana looks at her with her large solemn eyes, smiles a little and grasps Manouche’s finger for a moment; Manouche looks deep into her eyes, concentrates, then nods; murmurs*  Right.  Rest, lil’ sunbeam, ye’ve ‘ad a long, busy time of it.  *she looks up at Abberline*  Take ‘em all home, luv.  *she tucks the crystal ball into a deep pocket in her coat, turns to Marco*  Is there anythin’ else ye can tell me before I go?

Marco:  Be safe, dreamer.  I must keep an eye on the Abberlines.  But another will guard you when you use the crystal though he may remain unseen.  Every precaution will be taken.

Manouche *nods slowly*  Fair enough, then.  I’ll do me best, I promise.  Assure ‘er ladyship o’ that, savvy?  *she casts one last sympathetic looks at Kat, Abberline, Candy and Chiana; turns, leaves the house.  Standing outside the door, suddenly feeling very alone, she send a dreamer thought to Abberline*  Fred, luv, please ‘ave a care.  Give all this a chance, obviously what we been doin’ up to now ain’t workin’.  *she glances around, then leaves the house to head back to Rartigillichal*

Abberline *mutters to himself*  Give it a chance once more .... *he turns to Kat who follows quiet and obediently*  Don't think that I will give you a new chance.  You got yours, and you deserted me with your useless Constable.  You can keep him.  I will take you in just until you are better, but after that ... I don't think we should live together anymore.  I am not fooled by Kidd.  You and she, you are just one and the same person, you are only using her as an excuse for your bad behavior.

At From Hell Court:

Isabella *moans as she lands hard on the pavement.  She’d very carefully tried to open the door when she felt an invisible force pushing her back nearly knocking the wind out of her even before the hard pavement did.  She and Hanson had gone to a den deep into the Court trying to blend in while listening in on people’s conversation.  They overheard two men talk about ‘the witch and her cop-husband’ and had followed them to the run-down building when they left the den.*

Hanson *kneels down next to her; looks at her with concern* Are you alright?  *Seeing that she’s struggling to catch her breath again*  Don’t try to get up, just lie still and take deep breaths.  *Helps her sit up as she starts breathing easier*  What the Hell was that?!

Isabella *Sits up a little more*  I don’t know … some sort of protective shield, I suppose.  But at least we know where they are … even if we can’t enter.  I’m sure Grace can break the shield.

Hanson *looking rather bewildered*  How do you know so much about this stuff?

Isabella *Shrugs*  I did a research paper on supernatural beings and I’ve read some book just for the fun of it.  I find it fascinating.

Hanson:  I find it creepy … *helps Isabella to her feet*  Are you sure you’re OK?  How’s your back?

Isabella *Stretches her back a little and winces; the movement clearly causing her pain*  Well, it feels very much like someone threw me down on hard pavement … unfortunately, it’ll probably be worse tomorrow.

Hanson *They continue walking for a while, Hanson glancing at her every now and then*  I could take you to the hospital …

Isabella *smiles a little*  Nah, just take me home.  I have supplies for just this sort of thing at home.

Hanson *stares at her for a moment, then shakes his head*  Of course you do!  You’re kind of a strange person.

Isabella *laughs*  So people tell me.  *They reach Isabella’s apartment and after making sure that she’s OK, Hanson takes off.  Once alone, Isabella finds a support dressing and wraps it tightly around her torso.  She’s certain there are no broken bones, but it was a hard landing and her body is aching from it.  She takes a few pain-killers before carefully lying down on her bed.*

At the hospital:

Don Juan:  Envy is a bad thing, George.  It seems that the only woman you ever were able to get is my erratic wife who has been out of her mind.  You wouldn't seduce that nurse simply because you couldn't do it.  I am here to see my son who is ill, so I don't get why you would be here for the same reason.  *he shrugs*

Miranda *comes to them with Ava, holding still hands with her, smiles at George*  You must be George.  *then she turns to Don Juan*  And I know who you are.  *She takes in his handsome looks, and his dark eyes looking alluringly into hers, but after a while she is able to divert her gaze from his eyes.  She only has to think about Malachi, with his dark and intense looks, and with the love he feels for her shining from his eyes*  I am Miranda.  I have taken care of Sam and Lola, and now it is time for them to return back to their mother.  And father ...

Don Juan *takes her hand*  Enchanted to meet you.  You have the brightest and most beautiful eyes I ever have seen.  Like stars.  *he turns to Ava*  Well, what is wrong with ..er ... Sam, yes Sam. Though he will be called from now on Don Samuel DeMarco.  I will start to learn him to fence.  And it is time he should start learning manners.  You can't take a man's education as your responsibility, Ava.  Tell me, dearest, why is that stupid man here?  What has he to do with Sam?

Ava:  What's wrong with him Don is that he and Lola need to know who their daddy is for sure.  *sighs*  You will call him Sam Don, until I know for sure who is the father and then we will talk. What about Lola does she not mean anything to you *looks at him* you know fine well that she dotes on you. Don if they are Georges then you will have nothing to do with them or me and you will sign the divorce papers.  And if they are yours Don *turns and looks at George she tries to think of something she can offer Don but her mind is completely blank she cant think of anything so she repeats herself*  and if they are yours Don I we ....

Don Juan *soflty*  And if they are mine, you little tramp, then we will sign the divorce papers and you or George will have nothing to do with them.  Fair, isn't it.  *flashes a smile*  I would never have doubted my paternity, but I guess you know better than me ... *he turns again to Miranda*  She has been suffering depression and maybe something more, too, poor woman.  I wish she would get her mind sorted out.

Miranda *suddenly somewhat unsure, looks at them both*  But the tests will show that.  These poor children need their both parents.  *she gets tears in her eyes*  Can't you see that it's they who matter.  It is they who have a right to you, not vice versa.  Whoever is the father, please settle it peacefully.  *adds vehemently*  I wish Malachi was here, he would know what to say and do, he always does!

Don Juan *bows slightly*  I will obey a woman who is in love.  Your eyes flash when you talk about him.  *glances at Ava*  Unlike yours, dearie.  *he looks at her intently, continues in a rich soft voice*  Are you sure about your feelings?

Ava *fighting back the tears she tries to remain as strong as she can be. Thoughts run through her mind my love for George he's my best friend and more or my unconditional love for my children they are my life. Ava hopes with all her life that they are George’s she cannot bear to be without her children in her mind she makes her choice. She looks back at George and then her children. Ava turns to Miranda looking for some sort of confidence boost*  Don if they are yours then George I...I.. I am sorry I cannot leave my children you'll understand one day *emphasing* and you can try to cure what ever you think is wrong with me. How does that sound to you fair or do you want more *she pulls Sam even close to her he falls asleep in her arms, Lola screams and she moves closer to her* Mommy's not going anywhere Lola.

Don Juan *continues in his seductive voice, looks at her compassionately*  If they are mine, you must break up with George.  And go in for treatment.  I am only thinking of the best for all of us.  *he turns to Miranda too, because Ava seems to appreciate her*  I am very concerned about my children.  They were taken from me, but the mother, she gave them away.  She is very disturbed  *he sighs* especially after she let her head be filled with lies about love by a man whom I once considered a friend, but regret to see that he is not worth a dime, not as a man or a friend.  Can you give a child to the care of a man who uses drugs?

Miranda *hesitates, feels more and more unsure, standing under his gaze, his smooth words, his polished manners, they are beginning to have an effect on her*  Er, I'll go and find a nurse to know how much you have to wait.  *and she flees the scene, trying to find a nurse in the empty white dreadful corridor*