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The neighborhood was peaceful. The perfect place for the man he was looking for to hide in. Although, Damian thought, he probably didn't see it as hiding. But who among the people in this residential area knew who he is, or that he even lived here? The man was supposed to be a respected leader within his organization, even the public face of it, so why live so modestly?

And why hide he lived here.

Damian had been surprised at how difficult it had been to even find out about this place. He'd gone to the man's place of business, asked around and they hadn't known about him, even if Damian had seen him speak there that very morning. The camouflage was expertly used. The attendants remembered someone spoke, but hadn't paid that much attention, after all, they said, there was always someone speaking there on Sunday mornings.

And when he did find someone who remembered him, more, knew of him, getting him to admit where the man lived had proved difficult. This attendant was strong-willed, but that in and of itself wouldn't have been enough, Damian had magic to deal with that, but so had his target, and he'd used some on this attendant.

So Damian had had to resort to his wiliness to get the information. He could have broken the magic, it would have been easy, but it would have alerted his target. And it had been fun to rely on himself, instead of the magic he now wielded. And he had obtained what he was after, an address, among this row of brownstones.

He stepped up to the door and knocked. He turned to observe the area, but he door opened and he smiled at the man dressed in a black suit that said more 'secret services' than 'butler' the bulge under the arm where the gun was holstered help more one look than the other.

"Hello." Damian smiled and pushed a little power in one of the marks. "I'm Silvester MacVoy, I'm here to see Cardinal Samuel."

"Who?"

"Samuel of Marbury." Damian took out his phone. Looked at the number's pad, nodded. "Yes, Cardinal Samuel of Marbury. Cardinal Joseph Capelli sent me to discuss the Rasia issue."

"I don't know anything about any cardinals, this is--"

"Young man," Damian said, pushing more power in the mark, enhancing his aura of authority. He couldn't risk affecting this man directly. This close to the cardinal even a hint of magic on one of his men might be felt. "I don't have the time to waste standing on this doorstep discussing the validity of presence here. I've shown you my credentials, now please inform Cardinal Samuel I am here."

There was a moment of confusion as the man tried to reconcile what Damian told him with what his memory said had happened. Had he pushed too hard? People could be made to believe just about anything, even without magic, but this man was--

"The cardinal isn't here."

"And when will he be back?" This was better. It would give him time to set things up without a complaining captive as a distraction.

"Within the hour." The guard, what else could he be, didn't sound sure, but that didn't bother Damian. He doubted he'd need more than twenty to set things up.

"Alright, then I'll wait inside, if you don't mind."

"No one is supposed to--"

"Young man, I was being polite, not actually asking for your permission. It looks like it might rain and I am not getting soaked. Please move out of the way."

The man hesitated, then stepped out of the way.

The entryway was small, a dozen long steps and ended at another door, it contained a low table with artificial flowers on them, a mirror over it with a brushed bronze frame. The wood paneling was dark mahogany.

Damian turned the knob on the door and it didn't open. He tilted an ear at the guard, his tail lashing impatiently. The man opened a panel in the wall and entered a code. The door clicked and Damian opened it.

He stepped into a large foyer, with a double stairwell going up to the second floor and then the third. He looked around, did a few calculations and concluded it was larger than the townhouse he'd entered.

Clever, Damian thought, they'd opened up the-- he looked into the distance-- the foyer was an extra townhouse deep on each side, and each had a door, so a total of five townhouses that had been gutted and turned into one mansion.

A mansion hidden within a residential neighborhood. Very clever indeed.

"Where is the cardinal's office?" Damian asked the man as he was closing the door. Damian noticed the chair in the entryway. Poor man, stuck spending your entire shift sitting there. "Do I need to go over who I am again?" he said at the man's reluctance.

"Third floor, left-wing, second door on the right."

"Thank you." Damian climbed the stairs, found the door and entered the office without knocking.

A mouse in his early twenties looked up from the papers he was placing on the desk. "Oh, hello," he said, smiling. "Can I help you? I'm afraid Samuel isn't here at the moment." He was dressed in gray slacks and beige shirt.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing," Damian said, closing the door. "Tell me, does Samuel have you suck his soft cock? I certainly know I would, if I have someone as pretty as you on hand."

"Excuse me?" the mouse sputtered. "But who are you? And what do you want?"

"Who I am isn't important to you." Damian stepped to the desk, and the mouse stepped away. The papers were financial reports, research reports, movement of family members. Damian was surprised not to see the name Rasia in the quick glance he gave the list. He'd expected the Gray Church to keep a close eye on Denton.

"I'm Cardinal of Marbury's secretary. Who you are is of definite importance to me if you plan on meeting the cardinal." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, you are so much more than the cardinal's secretary, aren't you? Don't move." Damian put power in the words and the mouse froze as Damian approached him. He ran a finger down the length of the man's arm and felt the marks under the fabric. "Oh yes, you are much more than that. Which makes you perfect for this." Damian took out his knife. "So very perfect."

* * * * *

Damian examined his work in the center of the office. The design in blood was flawless. The circle, and the marks within and outside of it. The challenge had been in keeping the mouse alive long enough without making a mess of his own while he did this. Damian didn't need him to be alive, but he hadn't found a recipient large enough to take all the blood he needed, so the mouse had to be the container. He'd finally expired minutes ago.

Damian took off his suit jacket and looked it over. Still spotless, as were his pants. Taking his time serves so many purposes.

"I do not like this plan," Sahataan said.

Damian put the jacket back on. "Unless you plan on getting involved directly, this is how things have to proceed."

A corpulent tapir burst through the door. "Timothy!" he searched the room, saw Damian, but then noticed the mouse sprawled on the floor on the far side. The tapir ran to him, knelt, and unconcerned about the blood took him in his arms. "Tim, oh dear God, Tim."

Damian closed the door and used the bloody rag to trace a mark over the jam.

"What did you do!"

"I think that's obvious," Damian answered, waiting for the mark to flash with power before turning.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" the tapir said. "What I will have done to you for this?"

"The better question is, do you know who I am?" Damian asked. "I wouldn't worry about your fuck toy, it isn't like you're going to have a need for him."

"How dare you insinuate that I--"

Damian rolled his eyes. "Please, a priest with a young man? Everyone knows what that means. I'm just surprised he's of legal age, I thought all of you liked them younger than that."

"Who are you?" the tapir demanded as he stood, and Damian felt the power behind the words. The compulsion to answer truthfully.

Which he did.

"I am the representative of your god."

"You're no angel," the cardinal spat.

"Not that god," Damian replied. "The real one, the one on who you're drawing power even now, hoping you'll get me to obey you."

"I follow only one God, the true God."

Damian turned to Sahataan. "You know you can make this a lot easier on him by showing yourself to him, right?"

"I don't waste strength on manifesting for just anyone."

"So I'm special?"

"You are my champion. My son by rebirth. There is none more special than you."

"I feel so special," Damian replied sarcastically.

The tapir was at the desk, leaning on it and, Damian expected, had pressed the alarm. No matter, no one was entering this room until he was ready.

"I don't know what you want," the tapir said, "but you're going to pay. I will see to it. I will make you suffer!"

The power rushed over Damian, through him, tried to find purchase, to make the command true, and when it couldn't, when Damian's own marks proved more powerful it dissipated to be absorbed by the god who had first granted it.

Damian walked to the tapir who looked at him in disbelief. "You should be happy, cardinal. You've been called on by your god to make the ultimate sacrifice for his glory."

"God doesn't send murderers."

Damian sighed and took off his jacket, then his shirt, this was going to be messy, there was no avoiding it, and it let the tapir see his chest and arms, all covered by intricate marks, some so small as to be just lines on his flesh.

"I told you, cardinal, not that god. The one you actually pledge yourself to all those years ago. The one who gives you the power you keep deluding yourself was granted by so divine fiction." Damian grabbed him by the arm and pulled the tapir to the center of the circle. "This is probably going to hurt."

Damian slit the tapir's neck from one side to the other open and blood poured on the floor, on the design and it flashed absorbing the power instead of allowing it to go back to its origin, to Sahataan. With it Damian saw the threads pouring into the circle, the threads of control the cardinal had established over his long years in power.

The tapir gurgled, tried to crawl out, but Damian placed a foot on his back. That he couldn't allow. The man couldn't live the circle until the ritual was done. Not that he'd leave it afterward either.

The tapir let out his last breath. Damian closed his eyes, smiled and prepared himself.

The power contained in the circle rushed into him. Made the marks on his body shine bright enough those on his legs were visible through his blood-covered pants. Made his heart beat faster than he could remember, his cock didn't react, but he could imagine himself getting instantly hard. He let out a scream of pleasure as he imagined the orgasm he would feel if this had been sex. Better than any he'd have before.

And then it was over.

The circle was dark, the power settled in Damian, but the memory of the rush stayed with him a little longer. This is what he'd been wanting all those years ago. And this wouldn't be the only time he'd feel it.

"It should have been mine," Sahataan stated. "That was my due."

Damian retreated behind the mental wall while he composed himself. For an eternal entity, Sahataan was certainly short-sighted.

"You charged me with destroying the thief," Damian said, looking himself over. All the marks on his body meant he hardly had any for left, but he didn't care. This was temporary, and unlike Sahataan, Damian had no problem looking at the long term implication of what he did. All the blood was going to be a problem in the short term though.

"Do you really expect me to do that by myself? Alone? The thief's champion is assembling all his followers behind him. I have to do the same."

Sahataan watched him, the eyes blazing with restrained, something. Damian didn't want to risk overestimating his understanding of such a being.

"The cardinal used your power to plant his claws in strategic people within the Gray Church, and outside of it. Those connections are linked to the power you granted him. If I'd allowed it to go back to you, those threads would have unraveled, freeing them. I can't do any of this without those threads. Not what is coming in the short term and certainly not the overall plan."

"And are you to starve me until then?"

Damian pushed his irritation behind the wall. How could a god be this impatient?

"I have sacrificed to you already, I will do so again. I know it isn't as much as you'd get from the cardinal, but think of all you'll get when the thief is gone for good? When all that he took from you is yours again. This cardinal is nothing compared to that. You have waited a long time to get what is yours, sacrificed much. Be patient, and it will all come true."

Something heavy hit the door, then hit it again.

"Do not disappoint me, my son."

Damian smiled. "I don't intend to. I have too much to gain myself."

Sahataan vanished and Damian felt for the threads he now controlled. As he expected one of them lead to the man behind the door.

Another impact came, but the mark held. It would hold against anything those mortals could come up with. Damian smiled. Yes. Those mortals. He did like how that sounded.

He pulled the power out of the mark on the door and it shattered under the next impact a large silver would in military uniform bursting through. He looked around and pulled out a gun on Damian.

"Stop," Damian said, sending the word through the thread. The man obeyed. "Holstered your gun." Again the man obeyed. "Tell your men in the hall that everything is under control, send them back to their usual duties."

"It's all good," the wolf said in a deep baritone. "Got back to your stations."

"Sir?" a woman asked, looking into the room.

"I said I have this, Dallas, go back to your post. All of you."

"I don't think we--"

"That's an order!"

Finally they all left.

"Don't you like the military mindset?" Damian asked.

"I do, sir."

"That was a rhetorical-- never mind. What is your name?"

"Nathaniel Gashkori, sir."

"Tell me, Nathaniel, do you think I should just mark you? Or are you the kind of man who deserves to be initiated into this special order of ours?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what that means, sir."

"No, I expect you don't. Other than the control mark, I'm not sensing anything on you. Let me ask you this. What did you sacrifice to reach your position? Better yet, what are you willing to sacrifice to reach higher?"

Confusion met his questions.

"Marking it is. Take off your shirt and show me your back. I'm going to make you a more effective warrior, because I need you to take care of something important for me in town. A certain thorn that I can't risk finding out about any of this." Damian took out his knife. "You can do that for me, can't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. This might hurt, try not to scream."

Damian was surprised by how quiet the soldier was during the entire process. By the time he was done his entire back was scarred, but no one would be able to keep him from accomplishing his task.