The City had succumbed to absolute chaos over the last few months; which at first, to the Nephilim was absolutely, without a doubt, entertaining. There were many times that she found the city to be somewhat sleepy if she took away the drama which surrounded The Bradford siblings with their Father as well as the trouble that she often found Siobhan in. Those moments of down time were usually welcomed, but as of late, things in her own life seemed somewhat normal, thus, the chaos which erupted in the city was just what the doctor ordered. It gave the ex-assassin reason to get herself into fights, and get away with it if her Detective Sister questioned her once again why her knuckles were battered and bruised. Not only did this give her a form of entertainment, it also served her as a distraction; many would not believe that she had allowed herself to open up to a guy, yet she had - only for him to disappear from the face of the earth, like a few before him. So, it was so surprise, at least to her, that she needed to keep herself occupied so she could stop her thoughts from venturing to her terrible love life. However, there were only so many fights she could get into, without that getting boring; after all, she had spent most of her life in battle, or maybe, she was simply growing up.

Once Rissa had completed her good deed of the day - cleaning up the messes of the latest violent breakout, she couldn't think of any better reward than the local bar to drink herself into a state of oblivion which would consequently help her sleep at night. The Nephilim placed herself at the corner of the bar, and insisted that the barman kept an open tab for her considering it was still very early in the evening and she had nothing planned for the following day. With the beer in hand, she eagerly took a very needed swig which triggered a pleasurable sigh to bypass her lips. The barman began to make small talk with her, which under any normal circumstance, she would have hated yet for some peculiar reason, the chat was welcomed even if she had no interest in the conversation or the latest gossip of who went home with who from the bar last night. With that in mind, she playfully placed a series of bets with the man behind the bar on who would be next to leave with another; and it was safe to say that her name never made the list of potentials which pleased her despite many trying their luck over the last few years of her frequenting the bar.

The hours passed fairly quickly, in fact, they passed just as quickly as the beers in her hand did; in fact, she even surprised herself just how quickly she knocked back the alcohol - clearly something was bothering her and, as normal, she was not ready to face the problem head on. Avoidance was key. Clarissa began to slump on the stool, her spine arching as she rested her arms on the bar, and then her cheek on her forearms; the bar man insisted she should head home which consequently lead to her snapping a quick 'no' his direction - she was not ready to face her thoughts alone, not yet. Her lavender coloured eyes closed contently as she listened to the buzz around her; from the music, to people simply enjoying themselves but none of those were enough to completely catch her attention until one particular voice spoke above the music to order their next round. The Nephilim forwarded her brow before lifting her head - her gaze trying to adjust into focus at the male who stood a few stools down from her.

Wyatt Brookes? No way, it couldn't be - it definitely had to be her beer goggles playing tricks on her mind. Confused and rather baffled were the only words which could be used to describe her expression as she looked over at the male; yet the moment she found him catching her stare, she quickly and rather unsteadily composed herself to focus on the beer bottle in her hand. "You know it's rude to stare?" She slurred ever so slightly but loud enough for the male to hear her; it was him, it was definitely him and to not give him the satisfaction that she could remember him, she would play aloof and dumb to his being.

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Being back in Clarissa's apartment made him pause at the actual destruction those men had caused when they'd come for them. Wyatt hadn't really noticed how bad it had been when his focus was completely on trying to find her in those panicked moments after waking from near death thanks to the suffocation spell Abigail had inflicted on him. Wyatt's fingers instinctively moved to the amulet around his neck as its source of power would always be a comfort to him. He knew things could've possibly been much worse had he not had the item on him, though he also imagined it was something Abigail banked on because Clarissa was the bait in the end. She knew he would come for Clarissa no matter what. The dark diviner had probably wanted to cause the panic and fear of not knowing what was happening, even if they could've just taken them both in the first place. 

Wyatt moved a couple of the knocked over things back in to the places he assumed they belonged if not just to get them off of the floor. The guilt he felt for it all came back again, but as he looked to the wall where one of the intruders had decided to drag what looked like a blade across it, he also then remembered the few hours beforehand when they were together under better circumstances and he'd had her pressed against that very spot. The sound of what he assumed would be the closet closing in the next room where Clarissa was changing brought him back to the current and he sighed, glancing around the room instead and landing on the chinchilla which made him chuckle. He walked over to it and shook his head. "Glad to see you in one piece still." Clarissa's sudden voice made him straighten up and turn around at her comment. Amazing how she could still look so good in a such a simple outfit, but he would miss the look of her in his clothes. A thought that was still kind of blowing his mind.

The Archives was alive. It was clear they'd closed it down to the normal public as much of the higher ups in the coven were here and the teams of people about were still cleaning up and processing the space. Wyatt had never seen it like this before, but then again, nothing like this had ever happened either. His hues moved to the spot in which Abigail and him had had their final showdown. There were no reminders of the night before as the dark blood that once pooled over the floor was now gone. The thought of the blade swinging to remove Abigail's arm made his head spin more than the whiskey was already doing. He still couldn't believe it had come to that, but even now he knew he had to keep it together and not let her push him again to bring out that darkness. He couldn't let her have that kind of control over him.

Wyatt smirked to the nephilim beside him as she presented her offer. "I absolutely have no doubt in that," he replied to her promised threat and hoped it wouldn't have to come to that, despite the diviner deserving whatever punishment Clarissa deemed fit to instill. They walked behind the coven members through the Archives where they were taken to one of the smaller storerooms in which diviners could house their belongings. It was empty now, save for the person they were looking for. Abigail was seated in a chair, but chained in place, no doubt with the use of magical cuffs that would ensure she wouldn't be able to cast. His eyes moved to her restored arm that seemed to be almost healed if it weren't for the reddened skin around where it was attached again. It hardly seemed fair to him as Clarissa stood next to him without her wings. 

Abigail's head lifted as they all stepped into the room. She seemed weary, but the familiar and taunting smile she always held immediately appeared when her eyes fell on them. "Well, well, well." Wyatt's jaw clenched and he rolled his shoulder in an effort to relax himself. The urge to cast against her was already seeming very appealing. "Missed our time together last night? I know I was having fun."

Wyatt handed the lockbox to one of the coven members and pulled Abigail's phone from his back pocket. He moved to the prisoner's side and kneeled down, pressing her finger to the scanner which finally got him access. Her focus moved from him to Clarissa as she blew a kiss her way. "You could've just asked me, Brookes."

"Forgive me if I don't find you exactly trustworthy," Wyatt responded before looking through the contents of her phone. He immediately went to her last calls which he knew would show the person bankrolling this whole operation and the one who wanted the scroll from him. It was the last phone call she had the previous night when they were being held captive at the Archives just as she was now. The contact number was there and the name with it was X. A wave of frustration went through him and he sighed. Of course it wouldn't be that easy to have the person's name, but at least they had a number which could be traced. Hopefully. He decided to ask the mayor one more favor as he sent her a text with their new found information.

"So.." Abigail began again, keeping her focus on Clarissa. Her eyes seemed to bore into the nephilim with the madness that was now always at the surface unlike when Wyatt had first been introduced to her. "Did you fly in? Heard the weather was supposed to be nice today." 

The buzz of the archives comforted her in what was an incredibly tough situation; Clarissa was a fighter, and faced her fears head on - everyone knew that. Yet, what they didn’t know, that inside the assassin shell she lives in, beneath is that of a young girl who fears a lot of things, and in this particular moment of facing the woman who had abused her, created a whirlwind of emotions. Predominantly these emotions were telling her to run once again in another direction; she didn’t want to see the reason why she had lost her wings, particularly after Rissa had managed to find a balance where no more feathers were turning black nor falling off. The Angel child was doing this for the Diviner stood next to her, he deserved answers and he deserved to find out why he was being used in such a way; and for Clarissa, that was all she needed to keep her back straight and head up. 

A pang of jealousy swelled within her, and her heart ached when her eyes fell upon the woman sat contently within the chair; restrained from using her powers, she was vulnerable, tired even but even in that state she still oozed a level of authority. Clarissa could feel the back of her teeth grinding together as her gaze dropped to the arm which had been restored, and the child within her boiled and a temper tantrum was perhaps only moments away. How was it possible that someone like Abigail could get her arm back with a click of her fingers, but for Rissa to be reunited with her wings was so unknown? “How the fuck did that reappear?” Her voice was raised as her eyes darted between the arm and Abigail; she even glanced over her shoulder to the Diviner’s on guard - challenging them to tell her the truth. Were the Coven nice enough people to mend a woman like her up?

I got my Frankenstiens to patch me back up again Abigail cooed and offered Rissa a crooked smile as she glanced over the Nephilim’s shoulder; indicating it was indeed the Coven. The Nephilim inhaled sharply and exhaled before allowing Wyatt to have his short conversation with her, primarily to use her fingerprint to unlock her phone which would help them in finding out who she was speaking too. Yet what made Rissa more uncomfortable was that Abigail’s gaze did not falter from her; and in response, Rissa pressed her lips into a fine line before glancing over Wyatt’s shoulder at the phone. Just from the look on his face, it was clear that it was not saved under a name which was not disastrous but it could perhaps slow them down ever so slightly. 

With a roll of her eyes, she refocused on Abigail and stepped a little closer, crouched down and allowed the pad of her finger to run across the wound where Wyatt had taken her arm clean off. Clarissa scoffed at the woman’s sneer and shook her head. “This isn’t the last you’ll see me, Abigail. It may not be today, tomorrow or next week but you can be sure I’ll come for you” Notably, with her well known title of The Angel of Death, Clarissa leaned in and pressed a kiss to Abigail’s lips; a kiss of death would continue to linger there until Rissa came for her. 

Clarissa stretched out her spine as she stood, before turning to face Wyatt. “We’ve got the number, and have the tools to search for their location… Spell or not, we just need to keep the phone line on for long enough to get a ping” She spoke, although she was sure Wyatt knew more about tracking than she did. “Use her if you need to, but I can’t stand to be in the same room with her much longer, she’s making me nauseous.” She exited the room, and the moment the door had closed, she could feel her body shaking; she would argue it was adrenaline but in reality it was more nerves. 

Whilst she waited for Wyatt to also exit the room, she attempted to make small talk with the coven members; in an attempt to fish out what they thought about the whole thing and perhaps, a way to protect someone from the lingering effects of Black Magic. Rissa saw this not just as a mission to find out what Abigail was doing and who with, but to protect Wyatt from himself. Upon hearing the familiar steps behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and offered a one sided smile. “Any luck?”

As the goading remark left Abigail's lips, Wyatt was certain that Clarissa would cross the room in one fluid movement and murder her right there. He didn't even know if the wrestling in his brain would be fast enough to decide on whether to intervene or not and that was also concerning. On a normal day with a normal psyche, the diviner would've tried and stop her from carrying out the act, even if he did think she deserved it, but now.. Instead, the very confident steps Clarissa took towards the prisoner was poised and his brows rose for a moment as he watched the quick exchange between the women. He believed if given the chance, the nephilim would see that no amount of magic healing by the coven would fix what she planned on doing to Abigail.

Wyatt stayed quiet, but nodded to Clarissa as he understood her need to put space between herself and Abigail. Once the door had closed, he turned to the dark diviner whose eyes were transfixed on the last spot Clarissa was seen before disappearing into the Archives. There was fear there behind her confident mask and it seemed she finally understood how making the ex-assassin an enemy was not the best of life choices. "Who's X?" he asked, stepping in front of her view. Abigail cocked her head to the side and looked up to him with a cocky grin. He waited a few moments, but she refused to give any more, so he retrieved the box with the scroll from his fellow diviner again. "Fine. Hope you enjoy your prison. You do know what happens in there right?" This too seemed to cause her to falter in her confidence, cutting her eyes away from him to stare at a point on the wall. "The warding and runes will be so strong that your magic will wane until you feel human like the rest of the majority populace. Insignificant. Mundane. Dull." He knew this would break her most of all. No longer having magic was like taking a part of a diviner's soul away. "Enjoy spending the rest of your extended life being.. normal."

Hearing the door close behind him was relieving. There was a weight that lifted he didn't realize he was carrying and moving alongside Clarissa made him instantly feel better. "Nothing from her which I guess isn't surprising, but hopefully a friend of mine will be able to pull through again." The road laid out before them wasn't going to be easy in the least. He wanted her by his side, but at the same time with as much as she lost already, Wyatt couldn't let himself be selfish either. The distance between them was easily closed with a step as he held her earthen brown eyes. "Listen, I know you're probably going to tell me to shut up, but I have to say it." The diviner shifted his weight, but held her gaze still. "The odds are against us and I don't even know what really lies ahead. You're reconnecting with family right now and moving on from a life that brought about trouble. I don't want to be the reason you fall back into it."

His phone suddenly vibrated before he had the chance to finish his thoughts, surprising him that he'd already gotten an answer. Definite perks to having friends in high places on the government end. "Damn, that was fast." Wyatt looked at the address which was sent to him and scoffed. "You've got to be kidding." It was one very familiar to him and one he'd been to before. Everything about this had suddenly elevated to a new level of danger he wasn't expecting. "Son of a bitch." The diviner grinded his teeth together, letting the frustration flow out of him through a deep breath in and out through his nose. Wyatt did a quick search on his phone before turning the screen around to face her with a picture. "Donovan Andrews. Human. Owns a pharmaceutical company, so millionaire. Has a flair for obtaining historical artifacts and the like. He throws parties almost every weekend for more big wigs to come around so they can all talk about how great life is when being rich. Mostly, to show off his large property and all the pieces in his vast assortment. The place is like a museum, really. I went there to trade him some cursed earrings from Romania for an athame once and everything about him says creep." Though, Wyatt couldn't act like he wasn't impressed by the collection.

"The security there is like a fortress. He knows what he has and will do anything to protect it. High tech security and personal armed guards stationed about." He wondered if they were the same detail that was at the abandoned warehouse where Clarissa had been taken. Wyatt's normal route would be to sneak in to the estate and steal whatever it was he was after, but there was no chance of that. Not even he could completely magic his way through after getting in without possibly tripping an alarm or being seen by a guard. Maybe one of these elegant and ridiculous soirees would be the way inside. The personnel would be more distracted by all the guests and the alarm system would be minimalized. Walking through the front door would be the easy way in, but he'd have to glamor his appearance as not to be recognized seeing as his death didn't seem to bother Andrews in the least. It was apparent the millionaire would do anything to get his hands on the scroll. 

Wyatt paused and looked to Clarissa, reeling in from the sudden awareness of the situation. He had the feeling he already knew what she would do, but he still wanted to put the option out on the table for Clarissa to focus on herself. "Have I convinced you enough to get out of this crazy situation or shall I just shut up now?"

Everyone knew that small talk was one of Clarissa’s hated interactions, and here she was; delving in head first to converse with some of the faction. Some of which remained as far from her as humanly possible; which was completely understandable - her reputation continued to live on, never mind the very notable changes she had made. Whilst there were a small handful that couldn’t resist getting close to an Assassin; a career, which for many only lived inside of a television. These people, despite firing off their own questions were more than happy to share their thoughts, opinions and general facts to her doubts and in some areas, naivety. Yet when it came to dark magic, they seemed to stiffen up and bit upon their tongues; a secret which couldn’t be shared? Or was the topic such a taboo, that even when a prominent member of the faction fell victim, it remained unsaid. 

“Thank you, it was nice meeting you Alexis” Rissa thanked the young Diviner for her time, and for making the uneasiness of small talk just that little more bearable; she offered her a small wave before snorting a little at the reluctance of Abigail. “Of course she didn’t - perhaps because she knows her life isn’t really at risk right now to cough up answers” She challenged, but not in an accusing manner; that wasn’t Wyatt’s fault nor was it his decision - and if anything, if Rissa wanted kill her today, he wouldn’t have had much chance of stopping her. Clarissa furrowed her brows at the next string of sentences and shook her head; a small smile appearing, almost in disbelief. “You’re right, I am going to tell you to shut up. Family or not, responsibilities or not… I need to find out what it was that cost me my wings” The tone of her voice was almost an audible version of a foot stomp. 

Before she could say anything else on the matter, Wyatt’s phone buzzed and she noted his sudden change in demeanor. Instinctively, she stepped closer and narrowed her eyes slightly at this Donovan Andrews; a name she had not come across before which was surprising considering the amount of danger that he imposed on all the communities. Surely The League of Assassins would have heard of him, nevertheless, that wasn’t an avenue she would want to go down nor suggest. “So are we thinking, saying, believing that he is the X that was calling the dog in the other room?” Wyatt’s brief silence was enough to confirm, and it was highly likely that this Donovan fellow knew how to, or knew someone who could translate the scroll. “He is clearly compensating for something if he’s always so keen to show off all the different artefacts he has gathered throughout the years” It was almost amusing, almost - but the way Wyatt described the place, and the man himself implied that regardless his appearance; he was a force to be reckoned with. 

Clarissa offered the diviner before her a smile. “Firstly, you have just promised me a very good time with the idea of getting sneaky as fuck in some fancy pancy, little finger up party. Secondly, do you really think I could sit around at home doing nothing, all the while knowing you’re putting your life on the line? Not a chance. I’ve just got you back and I’m certainly not going to risk losing you to a man who will probably be shriveled up like a prune in the next 5 years” Rissa placed a hand upon his shoulder. “And besides, a man turning up to one of those parties alone would probably look shady as hell, you’d be under watch constantly.” She mused silently. 

“He might also hold some answers about The Divine Chronicle, or at least some books about wingless angels” Her tone was softer and her smile slightly one sided. “Although, I think the next step would be to get your car back from the warehouse, and then we can begin planning on how we get on the guest list to one of his parties.” 

Wyatt shook his head slightly and grinned at her determination in joining him on the continued crazy train. Though he would of course understood if she decided to disembark, the diviner was more than a little happy to have Clarissa coming along. He had a feeling he would need all the help he could get going forward and he was glad it was her alongside him. Each of their certain skill sets would definitely be needed if they planned on finding out what was truly written on the scroll. As always, he couldn't help the excitement that began to brew inside him. Any time he got wind of a possible expedition with the chance of unearthing something big, his adrenaline would begin to push him through any obstacles and this was possibly a motherlode of such a discovery. "Think I might have an idea for that," he replied to her inquiry about finding a way inside Andrew's home. "Come on."

Some minutes later and two diviners from the Archives were saying their farewells as they disappeared. They had been nice enough to offer he and Clarissa a quick 'ride' to the warehouse where the nightmare not so long ago had reached its worst moments, especially for her. He glanced to Clarissa for a quick moment before looking ahead at the scene while they walked into view from the road. It seemed the police had indeed arrived, but in a small capacity now after having raided the place. He imagined it was most likely just detectives and crime scene investigators busying themselves now. He was a little surprised to see his car had been undisturbed, but there was an officer who was clearly standing watch and immediately requested his ID. Wyatt did as was asked of him and he said they were free to go. It was good to have a friend in the government.

He slid into the seat of the car and felt a sense of comfort from the familiarity of it. He supposed the feeling of normality was needed after such a dramatic night before; Something that grounded him and reminded him that being around the things that he enjoyed kept his mind from the darkness that would sometimes try and slip in with any chance at an opening. Looking to Clarissa, he knew she was one of those very important things now. Opening up about it all again was a therapy session he didn't realize he needed even if he hated talking about it.

Taking his phone out, the diviner punched in the name of an old friend with a favor to ask, hoping the plan he was starting to put together in his head would work out as he anticipated. Glancing out of the windshield towards the warehouse, Wyatt wondered if this would even be connected back to Andrews. Telling the police what he suspected seemed rather pointless if there was no proof of it yet and Andrews was powerful and beyond rich. The ECPD wasn't going to go after a man like him unless there was concrete evidence of what he was a part of and even then... The amount of money that man donated to the department and to all the other government affairs around town could still be enough for this all to get hushed or completely put on a scapegoat like Abigail if needed. 

Driving back down the mountain was making him anxious. When his phone finally went off, he felt the nervous excitement make his heart jump in anticipation of whether or not his plan had worked. It did. A smile made its way across his features as he passed Clarissa the screen where an elegant invitation for a Mr. Charles Wayne and Mrs. Maria Wayne was displayed in his email. "Hacker friend of mine I met in Morocco on a job. Making a hefty last minute donation to one of Andrew's foundations will get you into one of these parties and it seems that you and I have done just that. So generous of you, Mrs. Wayne." Wyatt smirked to her and glanced at the phone again noticing the date. "Oh, shit." It was for tonight. He shouldn't have been surprised. People were always dying to get into these social events of his to mingle among the top tier of society and he knew last minute invitations for donators was probably common. Still, Wyatt needed to work out the glamour spell as not to be recognized and they only had a few hours before the event. He'd seen Clarissa do it plenty of times before, but that felt like a lifetime ago and so he just asked. "Uh, how quickly can you get ready for this gala?"

Although the better part of her judgement screamed to possibly take a step back from this part of the mission, she couldn’t say no to something as exciting as this. Her body was likely still in shock from the recent trauma, and the adrenaline was enough to push her forwards; they had no idea where this road may take them but she was sure that with a Diviner to hand, and an old rich man who probably had a cabinet of powerful drugs - she would be absolutely fine and pain free. Although going back to the warehouse was the last thing on Clarissa’s to do list, she knew she would have to face it one way or another in this wild trip they had found themselves on; she didn’t believe it all started here, but the building would hold some answers to her questions. As the two diviners helped the pair arrive, Clarissa could just feel her gut twisting and knotting at the very sight of the run down mill. 

It hurt knowing that in one of those very rooms, her wings laid upon a blood stained floor; there was a big part of her that wanted to run on in there to collect them and perhaps, by some weird voodoo magic, they would be able to be magically sewn back onto her shoulder blades. Yet, upon seeing the ECPD at the scene, who had already noted her and Wyatt’s presence, it was probably best that she remained a stranger to the whole ordeal for now. There were a few faces that she recognised busying around the scene, some of which had helped her out of rather sticky points before but they were too preoccupied to acknowledge her. In fact, she was quite glad that the Officer allowed Wyatt his car back without any qualms so that they could leave fairly sharply. 

Clarissa glanced backwards via the rearview mirror and exhaled. “I wonder what they wanted or needed my wings for. It has to be bigger than some petty feud” Rissa murmured, particularly to herself and so didn’t expect Wyatt to answer as he drove away from the Nightmare. She stole a quick glance at Wyatt as he drove, and she could see from his expression that he too was going over the actions of the last few days, and possibly, like her, overthinking it until it hurt. Their surprisingly comforting silence was distrubed by a ping of an email and she quirked a brow at his expression as he handed over his phone. Upon seeing the amount of money which was donated, her face must have been quite the picture and she had to swallow back the pure shock. “I can be very generous when I want to be, Mr Wayne” Clarissa laughed, but had to tone it down after a quick jab of pain upon her back. 

At his exclamation, Clarissa couldn’t help but think the worse; perhaps their money had been declined, their identity already found out but upon his question, she soon felt her muscles relax. By his comments, she could only assume the gala was tonight and she vibrated her lips together. “It’s been a pretty long time since I last had to dress up for a formal event” She prolonged her response for a further moment or two. “But I do have a favourite dress of mine which is just sitting there collecting dust. So I can definitely be finished in an hour or two, max” Clarissa responded. “We better get a move on, as we have to colour coordinate” She winked in his direction, the perfectionist in her slowly creeping through. 

She knew that he would need to run back to his apartment to gather ingredients for whatever spell he would put on them to prevent them being noticed; yet the feeling of watching him drive away from her apartment which meant her being alone for the very first time since the event caused her stomach to drop. Clarissa felt a neverending emptiness, an ache in her chest which would be enough to kill a man, at least that was what she thought. She ran her fingers roughly through her hair, demanding that she got a grip before entering the complex once more; James was sat there and his lips fell agape at her reappearance. “Not now James, not now” She simply spoke as she caught the lift up to her abode. 

The pads of her fingers delicately ran over the lace of the dress which had remained in her wardrobe for too long; its familiarity brought a smile upon her lips which only grew as she slipped into it. Her makeup would take a little longer than usual, to hide the puffiness and the dark shadows which tainted her skin but after years of attending such events; she had become surprisingly okay at makeup application. Clarissa curled her dark locks allowing them to cascade down her back before slipping into a pair of heels. 

The sound of her doorbell rang brought her out of her trance, and she welcomed Wyatt with a smile. “We don’t dust up too bad, huh” She grinned, and automatically straightened out his collar. 

Wyatt opened his closet and stared at the suits available to him. God knows he had an array of different ones for all the weddings he was hired for as a photographer, but those were usually not the kinds of people that owned yachts and islands. He glanced to the smaller area of tuxedos he had hanging, glad that he had taken the effort to have them properly tailored and dry cleaned the couple of years ago in which he had to wear it last. Still, he groaned. He wasn't much of a fan of having to be around the kind of people they were about to put themselves in company of, not to mention that one of them had most likely had a hand in trying to kill them both.

After tossing the plastic covered suit on the bed, he busied himself in the hopes that he could make a proper draught which would conceal their identity for a decent period of time. There was no way he was going to be able to hold a glamour spell up himself for so long while being distracted with the task put in front of them and the possible need to cast some other magic should something go wrong; Which of course he also expected to happen at some point. Something always goes wrong. Still, neither of them were novices when it came to these situations and Clarissa could ease her way into these types of parties without missing a beat. He'd seen her do it plenty of times in the past as he watched from afar on their trips for the Organisation.

Some time later as Wyatt was standing at her doorstep and fiddling with his cuffs, he was still attempting to convince himself that nothing else would go wrong. They would get the cypher and walk out without a hitch. It was a mantra in his head at this point which he was currently mumbling under his breath. When the door opened, his eyes lifted from the struggle he was having with his uncooperative bowtie to see the angel before him. All the concerns taking space in his head melted away then as he took her in. "Too bad..." he repeated Clarissa's words back with a scoff and smiled, studying her face quietly for a moment as she straightened him out. "You are devastatingly beautiful. It's a disservice that you have to be glamoured by magic while we are in there."  He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the two small vials within. The amber liquid had dark flecks of herbs and bright golden swirls from the magic floating inside. "It should last us a couple of hours. It won't physically alter your body, you will just appear as someone else to those who look at you. You will still look like yourself if you should pass in front of a mirror, so don't be alarmed. Others will still see the magic." The diviner handed her one of the vials before offering his arm. "Shall we, Mrs. Wayne?"

Once in the car, the drive out to the west part of the city was always a view to behold. The properties began to grow by the acres and the houses seemed to go on forever if you were able to get peeks of them through the tall gates and hedges of privacy. Still, nothing compared to the land owned by Donovan Andrews. Driving up the winding road to his home took ten minutes alone. "Ready?" Wyatt asked, glancing over to Clarissa for a moment and reaching for his vial again just as the path finally opened. The large mansion came into view where the line of cars for the guests of the gala wrapped around an enormous fountain that could fit twenty people if they so chose to take a swim in their best. 

He swallowed the contents of the vial and felt a warm buzz in his head for a few moments before it fizzled away. "Oh, you might need this seeing as we are meant to be married." Reaching into his pants pocket, he removed a vintage looking wedding ring and lifted it for her. "Romantic, I know," he joked, looking to the heirloom. "It was my mother's. One of the only things left of hers that I have. Probably not what she had in mind when lecturing me about getting married, but.." he trailed off with a sad smile before realizing the valets were coming to open both their doors.

Wyatt turned over his keys and walked around to meet Clarissa, offering his arm again and looking up to the wide and far-too-many-steps-to-be-useful staircase. His eyes glanced to his watch where the two hour timer had begun to count down how long the glamour would hold. Any longer and they would be in for a bit of fun. "Mr. and Mrs. Wayne," he gave to the man at the ornate doors leading inside who welcomed them after checking the guestlist. Wyatt took two of the crystal champagne flutes from a silver tray one of the statuesque waiters held and offered her one. The manor was already filled with people who mingled about as the orchestra played classical music from hundreds of years ago in the ballroom while the opposite room seemed to have chairs lined up for an auction. "Well, the easy part is over. Let's see if we can find our host who I'm sure is boasting over some new artifact he's collected." 

Clarissa let out a soft laugh, at his comment; although she was not exactly new to compliments, this particular one hit her in the feels quite strongly. It may have been because he was being genuine, and there was no hidden motive behind his comment - unlike many others she had received in the past. “It is a shame, but I’d like to think this won’t be the only opportunity you will get to see me so dressed up” She smiled, and stepped to the side to allow Wyatt into her home. She inspected the vial which he offered her and watched the different ingredients twirl together, dance together; it was hypnotic, and arguably beautiful. “I have often wondered what it would be like to be someone else for the day, and here you are offering it on a silver platter.” She placed the vial in her clutch bag and hooked her arm through his. “Lead the way, Mr. Wayne” 

With the sunsetting behind the horizon line, and offering a warm red glow to the sky; it made this particular area of town look even more beautiful, even more dazzling. You could almost smell the money in the air, and although money wasn’t something Clarissa ever truly had to worry about since her payout at The League, she couldn’t say she felt comfortable in such a place. “We’re not even out of the car and already feel like we should move back into our lane” She joked as Wyatt parked up the car; Rissa inhaled the ingredients first, before bringing the liquid up to her lips and downing it. It brought a slight shudder to her skin, but compared to other things she has had to digest to conceal her identity, this one didn’t taste as bad. 

Her lips fell agape as he brought out a ring, and gave her a slight inkling to the history of such a gem; and it was in that moment, for someone who was typically known for controlling and understanding her emotions, she couldn’t. “I’m sure the situation of this, and the person you’re offering the ring to would be enough for her to clip you round the earhole and lecture you even further on the ideals of marriage” Rissa laughed, and watched him push the ring onto her finger. “I’ll be sure to take great care of it and your son, Momma Brookes” She spoke out, after all - who was to say that deceased diviners (or alive ones for that matter) couldn’t hear things without being physically present. 

Rissa stretched out her shoulders, and her new found scars as she exited the car, and before they began the never ending staircase up to the front door. With almost eager fingers, she wrapped them around the champagne flute - it had been such a long time since she last drank something that probably cost more than her apartment. “Firstly, cheers to us. And today, is our 5 year anniversary if anyone should ask. That may score us more brownie points” She wriggled her brows at her now Husband, although his facial features were now of a man who she didn’t recognise. Clarissa clinked her flute with his and took a sip before eyeing up the crowd. “What is it we’re after, exactly?” She kept close to Wyatt as they wandered the grand hall. “Will he know who the translator is?” Rissa was probably asking one too many questions, particularly in their new surroundings but she kept a warm smile on her face as she nodded in greeting to other guests. 

There was a boom of laughter which almost drowned out the live band, and she could only guess that it was the man of hour that let out such a racket. “Let's go say Hi” Rissa almost sounded eager, like an excitable puppy as they weaved through the dancing couple and as she approached the group, Mr Andrews had already spotted their presence. 

“Mr and Mrs Wayne, I presume… I know almost every face here besides yours” The slight round bellied man greeted them - by shaking Wyatt’s hand and placing a lingering kiss upon the back of Clarissa’s hand which made her skin crawl. “You gave us quite a generous donation”

“The foundation is close to our hearts, it would have been utterly criminal to not help such a worthy cause” She emphasised her word, mainly to see how far she could push her luck. “You must share your secrets, and tell us how the Foundation plans to spend and develop from such charitable donations. I’d love to get my hands dirty and help out” Rissa smiled and looked eagerly between her Husband and Andrews. 

“You’ve got an eager one here, Mr Wayne” Andrews chuckled and waved down a waiter for more champagne. 

"Five years of marital bliss," he responded with a smirk and drank the champagne in one go before placing the empty flute back on the tray of a passerby waiter. Wyatt's eyes continued to survey their surroundings, but mostly looking to the different security guards that stood against the walls as if they were pieces of furniture, not meant to be noticed. There were more than he anticipated which would definitely make their mission harder than he'd hoped. At one point in his life he would've found this exact type of situation thrilling in its dangerous appeal to lift a magical item off of someone like their current mark, but it was entirely different now when this man had attempted to not only kill him, but also Clarissa in hopes of getting the map. Andrews was in a different league and could throw money at any problem before him, including the security he was now casing. Wyatt only wish he could be there to see the millionaire's face once realizing the cypher was gone too. 

Wyatt's hand moved to the small of Clarissa's back as they walked about the estate, continuing their ruse. "To be honest, I'm not even sure what the cypher may look like beyond the ancient hieroglyphs. Something of the New Kingdom, personally I think of Nefertiti and Akhenaten's, most likely with a sun symbol on it. It could be an item to place on top of the scroll to read or even another scroll of text with translation. It probably won't be out on display since it wouldn't mean much without the scroll its meant to work with. If I had to guess, it's going to be in an office somewhere located in the rest of this small fortress with other artifacts he doesn't have on display seeing as many of them were not obtained legally." 

The diviner's gaze suddenly moved with hers as his eyes locked onto the man of the hour whose laugh bellowed across the event. "Let's," he replied to her with as much feigned excitement to speak with Andrews. Every step closer to him only made Wyatt more determined to steal the cypher from under his nose, but also feeling the need to punch the man in his smug face. "Please, call me Charles. A pleasure to finally meet you, Andrews," he responded, shaking the man's hand firmly. Maybe a little too firmly. Wyatt was thankful for Clarissa taking over the conversation because he needed the extra moment to compose himself. The nephilim of course had done things like this all the time in a previous life so it didn't surprise him that she smoothly had Andrew's full attention. "Eager indeed. It keeps the marriage interesting." Wyatt forced a smile and took two of the flutes which came to them, handing another to his new wife. "Maria is constantly involved in good works of giving back. We couldn't be more delighted to donate to your cause, but hopefully she won't go too overboard during the charity auction later. Right, darling? You did promise." 

The song that had been playing ended and a new one began momentarily as the orchestra seemed to bring more people onto the ballroom floor. "Ah, Maria one of your favorites by Tchaikovsky." He pretended to look around the room as if in search of something. "I'm going to find myself a restroom. Why don't you take Mr. Andrews here on a waltz in the meantime and try not to lead as I know you love to." Wyatt leaned in to kiss her cheek and started away from them, glancing back once to catch Clarissa's eye. If there was anything she could learn, or swipe from him, Wyatt knew she would be able to do it on that dance floor. He'd seen many a man fall victim to her charms in that way. 

For now, Wyatt moved through the sea of people and towards the hallway leading out into the rest of the manor. He pretended to look at one of the many works of art on the wall with fascination as some of the hired help busily moved back and forth through with what appeared to be the items being put up for auction. Once there was a moment he was alone, he hurried to turn the next few corners when a guard appeared and nearly ran into him. "My apologies, sir," Wyatt responded, slurring his words a bit and catching onto the man's sleeves. "Could you point me to the restrooms? Seems the champagne wants to make a reappearance." His eyes glanced down the newest hallway for a moment in time to see more doors, but one that had its own guard and an electronic pad. He couldn't be sure if it was the right room, but at least it was a start. The guard he was currently dealing with straightened him upright in his bumbling act and proceeded to guide him back down the corridor.

"This way, sir," he replied in clear annoyance.

Wyatt beamed to the man. "Thank you. I hope this guy pays you enough." 

“He says that I have a shopping addiction, but you know what I say… A woman can’t have too many shoes” Clarissa could barely recognise herself beneath the new persona that she had embraced since they walked into the charity event. She could feel her facial muscles beginning to ache as she turned to Wyatt with a slight nod. “A promise is a promise, but you could be dealing with a sore loser later” Yet, when her husband began to make his excuses to leave, it one looked closely, they would be able to see her jaw tighten in an almost begging like manner, asking not to be left alone with this creep of a man; yet as Wyatt walked away, she recomposed herself. 

“Maria Wayne, may I have this dance” Andrews bowed ever so slightly and she could feel a good handful of eyes watching them, and there was even a slight round of applause that someone had managed to take the first dance of the night with the man of the hour. 

“I would love to” She held out her hand and he escorted her to the dance floor; a triumphant smile upon his lips as he twirled her before bringing her closer by placing a hand on her waist. The two began to waltz around the dance floor which to her surprise seemed to empty and the crowds had formed around the floor to simply watch the two of them. She felt as though she was in a Disney film of sorts, a Princess if you will and that didn’t feel right for her; she related more to the evil villians, much like Mother Gothel. Rissa supposed it was less obvious to do this sort of dance before grilling into him and getting herself carried away in the character that is Maria Wayne. Soon enough, the music dwindled and the pair came to a halt as a round of applause echoed around the hall. “Mister And-...”

“Donovan, please” He insisted.

“Donovan, where on Earth did you learn to dance like that?” She almost gawked in awe as they remained close, waiting for the next set of music to kick in; and she was glad the other guests began to dance amongst them. 

“Private tutor, my Mother was rather persistent. And you, Mrs Wayne”

“Private School” And in many ways, the League had similarities. “Would you mind if we got some fresh air before the bids begin, Champagne goes right to my head and if I want to keep that promise” She cooed softly and linked arms with him as they walked to one of the miniature balconies. The two stood in silence for a moment as they admired the night sky, and on cue, Clarissa shivered. “I’m being terribly rude!” Andrews almost barked as he shrugged off his blaze and draped it over Clarissa’s shoulders; the blazer almost swamping her. The two engaged in small talk, all of which she hated, even more so with a man who indirectly helped with the removal of her wings. 

“Mister Andrews, sir! You’re needed to open the ceremony” A young waiter came up to the two of them, his awkwardness deafening as he believed he had just interrupted a possible romantic moment. Andrews glanced at Maria almost apologetically. 

“Go, go” She insisted with a smile. “It would be rude of me to have you all to myself this evening” The comment could easily be misconstrued and he mouthed something she couldn’t quite get before striding off. As he did so, Rissa shifted so she was wearing the blazer and began to feel around in the pockets. “What a fuckwit” She murmured to herself, hoping Wyatt would resurface from wherever he had wandered off to. 

Clarissa returned to the main hall, and took more champagne as Andrews began to welcome his guests and drone on about one thing or another - Rissa had switched off and she had barely noticed Wyatt walking towards her; or barely recognised, either way. “Fuck where have you been?” She muttered and hooked his arm through his, grinning like the cheshire cat at the utter confusion on his face as he finally noted what she was wearing. “Oh, I know.. I’m good” 

The guard who had directed Wyatt to the nearest bathroom stared stonefaced while the diviner leaned his back against the doorframe in his continued act of drunkenness. Firing off two finger guns and a wink in his direction before spinning into the bathroom, Wyatt rolled his eyes and stepped inside for a few moments, not being at all surprised that even the place where people were not the most dignified had an extravagant decor. Everything in the space looked like it costs thousands, including the red velvet loveseat which sat against a wall that he couldn't imagine had ever been sat in. He was a little disappointed the toilet wasn't solid gold and toilet paper wasn't hundred dollar bills glued into a roll.

He walked over to the sink and noted the familiar reflection staring back as he straightened himself out, though it wouldn't be the same for anyone else looking at him. His mind had made up the image of the person he wanted to look like and it was up to the draught to make it happen. Magic was a beautiful tool indeed, but it wasn't without its limitations. Wyatt's newly acquired light brown eyes glanced to his watch where their two hour window had shortened by fifty seven minutes. They needed to get moving and he hoped Clarissa was able to swoon Donovan enough into getting something from him by now. From what he'd seen of her previous life, it wouldn't be much of a challenge. 

Wyatt exited the restroom and moved back out into the party as guests were beginning to slowly trickle into the room where the auction would be held. His gaze glanced over the guests, but he couldn't find Clarissa among them, nor their host. That woman worked fast and if he had to guess, she would've taken him somewhere private. He noted some of the various hallways in which they might've gone, until he finally heard Donovan's voice inviting everyone to prepare for the bidding. Just some steps behind him, Wyatt recognized his wife coming inside from the balcony. He quickly made his way over to see what she may have found. 

"Just getting some ideas for redecorating my place," he responded sarcastically just as confusion set in as he looked to Clarissa's attire for a moment before realizing that she gained herself a jacket. Not just any, but Donovan's. "Normally I would be a little jealous, but seeing as he may have had a hand in nearly having you killed..." Wyatt wanted to rifle through the pockets immediately, but they needed to remain under the radar still. They moved along with the crowd as people began filing into the auction room, but Wyatt slowed their pace among the cattle and stopped just at the start of the adjacent hallway he'd been down before. His eyes glanced above them for a quick second where a camera pointed down the opposite end, giving them a moment of privacy as people continued to walk which blocked the view of the guards still stationed around the mansion.

He slipped the jacket from Clarissa's shoulders while attempting to look as normal as possible, pulling her closer as if having an intimate moment, but also hiding his true intentions. Wyatt's hand rifled through the inside pocket of Donovan's perfectly tailored jacket and felt the small, plastic, rectangular object inside, pulling it from its home. A key card. How convenient, but way too easy. Like, this-is-a-trap too easy. Wyatt lifted his wrist to glance at his watch. They didn't have time to scrutinize it. Waiting for the very last people to just pass them before being in plain view of the guards and cameras, his hand found hers and he cloaked them from view. 

Only Donovan's voice could be heard among the silence as he led Clarissa around the few hallways he'd been able to get through when they'd separated. The auction was beginning and his words became harder to hear the further they went until a round of applause began and the bidding started. It was easy enough to slip passed the pair of goons stationed at each new corner of a hallway until they finally came to the one that had the door with its own guard. A guard with a very large assault rifle. Wyatt pulled a knife that he had holstered under his pant leg with his free hand and offered it to Clarissa. "Think you can convince our friend here not to make any sudden movements?" he whispered. Any tip off that the guard was being confronted and the cameras would immediately know of their presence whether they were cloaked or not. No turning back now either way. He was getting in that door the easy or hard way. Wyatt just hoped the key card would be enough despite the feeling in his gut that told him otherwise. 

Remaining invisible, the diviner moved at the same time Clarissa did as she confronted the guard with a particularly creative threat, still keeping them cloaked while holding her hand. He slid the keycard's strip into the reader which gave a welcoming message to Donovan on the brightened blue screen and that a fingerprint scan was required. "Shit..." he cursed, quietly. Looks like it was going to be the hard way. He turned to Clarissa and kept his voice low. "I'm gonna fry the system, but I'm sure it'll send an alarm off and I'm also sure we'll be met with more armed friends within minutes after getting through that door." Plan B was not ideal, but there wasn't really a chance to go back now. 

Dropping her hand, the cloaking fell away immediately and he caused an electrical charge to go through his hands and into the computer which made a  crackling sound. A moment later, there was a very satisfying sound of several locks unlatching from the door. It was a handy spell he found useful doing this line of work. Wyatt's eyes glanced down to his watch as the time slipped away before their true identities would be known and not to mention the minute or so they had before several armed men came to meet them. He gave a slight bow and motioned for her to go inside. "After you, my dear wife. Maybe we should bring our new guest with us too."


“If the toilets aren’t golden, I’m going to be disappointed” Clarissa responded, still struggling to get used to Wyatt’s new look albeit for the time being; she had a gut feeling that their two hours was quickly coming to an end. Although it wouldn’t be dyer for her, should her true appearance become known, for Wyatt it would be completely different and her stubbornness only had enough fuel to really focus on channeling her pain rather than picking and choosing other fights.Upon Wyatt pulling her closer from which she removed the blazer she had borrowed, she let out a alluring sigh as she tilted her head at their convincing, amorous moment; all the while, giving other guests the eye to carry on and mind their own business. “That's it? I flirted with a shrivelled up raisin just for a key card.” She complained through gritted teeth, but hey ho - the key could give them access to a gold mine, hell, even that golden toilet if they were lucky. 

The guard that stood between them and the locked door looked as if he had better places to be, despite probably fulfilling his childhood dream of holding such a beautiful rifle. Clarissa took the moment to admire such craftsmanship, and how jealous she was of him; perhaps if everything went well, she would come back for the rifle. Although being more of a dagger kind of Assassin, it would be rude not to admire such a thing. Wyatt’s voice dragged her gaze and brought it back to him, and she nodded. “Thankfully, no wings doesn’t mean no powers… For now” Rissa had to be realistic, she had no idea how long her Nephilim powers would be intact for, no one did. God, she hoped Donovan had the book. She squeezed Wyatt’s hand for reassurance, and as if the power which surged through his veins would somehow give her further strength if need be. 

Her lavender coloured eyes flared as they narrowed down on the oblivious guard in front of her; they wanted him silent, and even more stationary than he already was. Her magic moved directly to his brain, narrowing down on the area which controlled movement - the frontal lobe. She worked away as quickly as she could, removing the feeling of his legs, from his arms as well as his tongue; they didn’t need him shouting. Clarissa found it difficult to focus on him hearing Wyatt’s dismay and she quickly glanced at the card reader and soon caught up. “Quickly, please. This man’s brain is stronger than I ever expected, and I’m not surprised” Her words were slightly strained, and if it was any longer she would probably break Wyatt’s hand in doing so. 

It was definitely for the best that Wyatt removed his hand from hers in that moment as the cloak fell, but it was reassuring that his strength, his magic wasn’t fuelling her own. She was holding this man by herself. Up yours, Wings. She thought to herself, but she moved to hold onto the guard, just in case magic could absorb through touch. Clarissa grimaced at the the consequence of frying the system but it was needed; and it wouldn’t take Donovan long to realise who wasn’t in the bidding hall. “We’ll need to move him ourselves, poor guy can’t move for the time being.” She nodded down to the rifle. “You’ll need to take the gun, I think the closer I am to him, the stronger and longer my hold is over his brain” Her foot scooted the gun closer to Wyatt as her arms hooked through the guard’s from behind and she essentially dragged the man over the threshold. 

Clarissa occasionally looked over her shoulder, but her main focus was on her Husband as he closed the door behind them. “Can you, or is there a spell which can seal the door, even temporarily? That will give us a little time to scan the area” She queried as the distant sounds of alarms filled the air. She shifted the guard so that she had a better hold over him, the colour of her purple eyes flickering as the power she was channeling was tiring. Rissa dropped the guard, and allowed her fingers to brush against the walls to locate the light switch, with a simple flick, the room they had now occupied. The room felt similar to the vault within the Archives; it was rows of shelves, and more shelves, holding multiple different items from jewellery to creepy childhood toys. “I doubt this is the only room in this place  worth looking through?” 

“The cypher could be anywhere. As could The Divine Chronicle" Clarissa felt the panic, the unease soar throughout her body, and her magic on the guard faulted completely, and he slowly regained control of his body. “Not to mention, our real identities will be visible soon” Noting the movement of the guard, she grabbed a gold ornament with fine intricacies and cracked it over his skull; the air was filled with what appeared dust but she wouldn’t put it past Donovan that that dust was some form of poison. Rissa noted Wyatt, who somehow seemed calm and collected rifling through the different shelves. "What will he do if he sees you, the real you?" This moment if losing control was unheard of for Clarissa, so foreign. 

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