It sputtered, sputtered and died. Lori gripped the unique handlebars she had rigged to the motorcycle so hard that her knuckles turned white. Something kept burning out. Lori made adjustments and adjustments and still something was shorting her electric motorcycle. It was driving her CRAZY!

With a growl, Lori chucked her helmet toward the tool cabinet. She hadn't bothered to change out of her work clothes, only pulled a garage coverall over her pant suit. She'd been so frustrated with tap dancing around government people that working on her motorcycle had sounded like stress relief.

Now she needed something to relieve the stress of her stress relief. Lori peeled away the grimy coverall and stalked all the way to the front lobby in such a dark mood that people scattered out of her way.

"Who's on patrol?"

Lisa jumped but continued typing as if nothing had happened. "Jack's about to head out after dinner."

"Not anymore."

"Are you going to take anyone with you?" The secretary stopped typing in order to punctuate her disproving tone.

"No." Lori would have slammed the golden door if she could.

Once out on the hot sidewalk, her anger began to fade with the heat. The warmth did her mutation no favors and she was still in her stilettos, her not quite 5 inch, electric blue stilettos. The patrols had been lax lately. Hardly anyone was stupid enough to cross the lines she laid down on maps. Still, she had a long walk through Order territory to make.

Up one street and down another. Lori made herself walk a casual stride as if someone dressed for Manhattan would be sightseeing in Brooklyn. She hadn't even grabbed her purse on her way out.

That confused the man who tried to grab her purse that wasn't there. He scrabbled for a moment at her side, realized that nothing was there, looked up at Lori's so not amused face and then... he ran.

Lori ran after. As short as she was, she had plenty practice in heels.

Normally Paul was a morning run type of person but sometimes things happened that made him feel the need to push himself to the point of exhaustion. Extra frustration, sadness, anger... lots of things could do it but today the reason was a little closer to home than he liked.

"It wasn't Ashley!" He muttered fiercly as pushed from a jog up to a flat out run. A face in a crowded mall looked a little to much like the woman he had loved. Maybe it was the hair, the eyes, or the shape of the mouth but whatever it was had been more than enough to dredge up a whole lot of memories that he would just as soon forget.

The sun was beating down and the sweat was pouring from him, soaking his gray t-shirt and the black track pants he wore. His muscles were beginning to complain but Paul knew he hadn't reached the exhaustion he was looking for. Unless he was completely exhausted tonight there would be no sleep. Memories would fill his mind and keep him tossing and turning and Paul refused to allow that to happen. However, even trying to reach exhaustion there was no way he could keep up this pace for very long. With much regret he slowed his pace back to a jog. Even jogging, if he did it long enough, he could make his mind forget. It would just take longer.

***

And hour had come and gone and Paul was not concentrating on where he turned or where he went. Heck, if he was to tired to find his way home he could always get a cab. Glancing up, Paul eyed a large set of golden doors somewhat curiously as he went past. Who the heck had golden doors in New York City? Shaking off the thought he pushed on, moving down this street and randomly turning down that one.

"Odd..." The words somehow bubbled to his mouth unbidden from his tired brain and body. How often did you see a relatively small woman chasing down a man? Especially when the woman was wearing heels that were in no way designed for running.

For a brief moment Paul considered simply continuing with his run but then curiosity got the better of him. Turning to follow the pair, Paul tried to wrap his tired brain around the situation. Did the woman need help? Did the man need help?

"How the heck should I know?" He muttered as he pushed his screaming muscles a little harder, trying to at least keep up with the running woman. Maybe he'd get some answers when... if he caught up to her.

Little bugger ran fast. As fast as Lori was on heels, she was not as good as this one. He disappeared around a corner and as soon as the blonde made it around, he was slipping around another. It made her look around more and if it weren't for that she may not have noticed her tail. A trap? Lori would hate to prove Lisa right.

Another corner and Lori caught the first man frantically pulling shut a metal door. Lori slowed to a walk, conscious of the man pacing behind her. She had definite blisters, but she couldn't take those dang shoes off.

The blond peeled off her silhouetted suit coat and fished out a ponytail holder from one of the pockets. A quick flick and flip of her hair and it was all pulled up nicely in a looped bun at the top of her head. Then she turned to the guy who looked like he either started his jog an hour ago or really, really needed to work out more.

"Hold this." Without waiting for an answer she chucked the suit coat at his head. She turned to the door, reached out her hand and imagined the biggest damn magnetic field at its center with opposing poles at each corner. She hadn't used this trick too many times, but the effect was always worth it.

Ear splitting whale calls punctured the alleyway as the door crumpled in on itself.

She tossed the shriveled door at back the man that she had thrown her coat at earlier. Anything to keep him from keeping her from the heart of the matter.

Lori stepped into the opening and admired the wide eyed group waiting for her. Her heart was thudding so heard it could have beat its way out of her chest. She hadn't bent his reckless in a long time.

The guy she had chased squeaked out something to the effect that he didn't actually steal anything from her.

"Hi, I was wondering if you could help me out with something?"

Silence.

What? Her cutesy high school voice was too jarringly chipper for the atmosphere? Fine. She dropped it for a voice that matched how absolutely pissed she was right now.

"Which one of you numbskulls thought it was a good idea to come here?" Fingers pointed every which way, though there was a definite winner.

The shock of her showing up and ripping the door off its hinges was starting to wear off. The group of six, seven with the outside help, was finally putting it together that she was one tiny girl and they were all big, strong, scary boys. The time for lecturing was nearing its end.

"This is Order territory. No stealing, no dealing, no fighting and no f***ing humans! Not unless I say so!"

"Who died and you queen b**** of the universe?"

Somebody grabbed her wrist and the power flared inside her body, just waiting for an excuse to get out. The hairs on her body stood on end. Her head hair would have liked to as well, but it was up in a bun. That grabber let go with an arm spasming like it had been tased.

"You."

That was all anybody needed for an excuse to start the fight.

She ducked a punch and threw a punch, made a magnetic field at the supporting I-beam to pull herself up to kick out with her pointed heels. It was nothing short of a bar fight, only when Lori got a punch in someone started spasming with the electrical energy she'd shoved into their body's system. Too bad that was only temporary. She needed sustained contact to really do damage. Someone grabbed her tie. This was not a pretty scene.

Slowing to a jog and then a walk Paul watched the situation in front of him as his senses suddenly went on high alert. The man that had disappeared apparently behind the metal door the woman was focusing on had looked scared. The woman on the other hand didn't look at all frightened, just pissed. It was beginning to look like the man might need protecting and not the woman. Of course that really wasn't such a surprise. Ever since the the Women's Lib movement of the 60's, 70's, and 80's there had plenty of individuals showing just how strong a woman could be. While there were still plenty of men that would always picture women as the weaker sex, Paul had no such predispositions and he was more than willing to see this woman as a threat as much if not more than the man she was chasing.

"Hold this." The woman said without preamble as she turned toward him and tossed her suit coat toward him. Unfortunately Paul had been running for over an hour so his reaction time wasn't the best in the world and he ended up having to pull the coat off of his sweaty head.

"That'll need to be cleaned." He muttered as he pulled off the coat to look at the large sweat stain that was now embedded in the back of the coat. He was about to say more when the loud groan of metal crunching make his gaze snap upward to focus on the woman and the door in front of her. It was a good thing the sound had triggered his awareness because it gave him time to get out of the way as it came hurtling back toward him.

"Useful trick." Paul said as a trace of admiration snuck into his tired voice. Glancing around the alley he found a relatively clean box setting nearby and after laying the coat on it made his way over to the empty doorway just in time to hear the last part of the woman's tirade.

"This is Order territory! No stealing, no dealing, no fighting, and no f***ing humans! Not unless I say so!"

"What the heck is the Order?" Paul murmured as he leaned against the doorway, for the moment content to just watch what was about to happen. He had been reading the paper extensively ever since his move to New York and he didn't recall even one article about a mutant organization called 'The Order'. Sure there had been some articles about that mutant school, Xavier's or whatever and there had even been some mention about a place called the Sanctuary but the Order?

"You."

It was as though with that one word she had rung the bell. Suddenly she was bum rushed by six, no five since one was already stumbling away from her. Almost cyclonic the fight went on, with people charging, being thrown away then circling and charging again. The lady was obviously holding her own and Paul was half tempted to let her deal with her own problems when one of the guys came his direction with fists flying.

Talking during a fight is a waste of both air and energy and so Paul didn't bother with any sort of witty comment or battle cry. He simply lashed out with a well place kick that slipped past the other man's flailing hands to land forcefully on his sternum.

Stepping over the now breathless man, Paul waded into the fight with narrowed eyes. Maybe a good brawl was just what the doctor ordered. If this didn't clear his head then nothing would! As he kicked, blocked, and occasionally punched he was even beginning to enjoy himself when he noticed one of the attackers pick a length of rusty pipe up off the floor and charge him with it. Cursing under his breath he stepped forward, lifting an arm to stop his opponent swing, already wincing from the pain he knew was about to come.

The snap, crackle, and pop of bone breaking was audible even over the sounds of the fighting but Paul just gritted his teeth against it. How did that old saying go? "Whatever doesn't kill you just makes you stronger."

As the man pulled back the pipe for another swing Paul let his now useless left arm drop while stepping in close. His hand reached up to grab the back of the other man's neck and then slammed his knee into the man's groin. As the man began to fold over his knee came back up again to make sure he'd stay down. Not really caring if he was still alive or not, Paul turned away from the mess on the floor and looked back toward the rest of the fight.

It was one man's grumbling question that set her to her rage more than anything else these men had done. What was the Order? How dare they walk into her house, try to steal from her and be stupid enough to not even know that they were neck deep in mutants. This may only have been a loosely organized band of thieves, but any real players in the underground should have known her family's name. Known it and feared.

Lori was holding her own only because she fought like a wild animal caught in a sack. Distantly she knew that she should leave one alive to tell someone greater than himself what had happened here. Irrationally, she just wanted to tear them all limb from limb.

When one pulled a chain, intending to use it on her, she polarized the metal oppositely from the I-beam above. Up the man went as her power surged. Somewhere along the lines she had lost a shoe, it was embedded in a man's chest. getting wetter with every beat of his heart. That was why she preferred metal spike heels, but that wasn't to say that she would come away from this fight unscathed.

The blonde would have bruises, a cut bled freely on the apple of her cheek. Someone had pulled a knife and used tricky hands to keep it out of sight until she had almost taken it in the eye. She didn't have the control to turn the thing and plant it in the thrower's face, especially not in the middle of an all out slug-fest. She had changed the knife's magnetic properties so that it was opposite of her natural magnetic field.

The knife had nearly gotten her anyway. The fact that it did spoke of how much charge she was wasting when she put her hands on the knife thrower and dumped power into him. She continued to throw power at him until she was sure the wriggling wasn't life, just stray electrical charge making a body triggered by electric impulse dance.

That left three men standing, and at least four alive. One man dangled from the ceiling howling in pain. His hands were no doubt trapped between the severely magnetized chain and the support structure of the house. Two of the men faced each other,and one mane nervously faced her.

Lori didn't like the odd balance that one shoe left her, but the more that she touched ground, and thereby grounded herself, the more of her power would simply drain out of her body. She needed to stay insulated from the ground. She needed her other shoe.

The man in front of her lunged forward and surprised her by ducking low at the last second to take out her legs. Both toppled to the floor and from their fighting rolled right into the legs of the other two fighting, involving all the last four players in the same squabble.

It seemed like the woman was holding her own but Paul couldn't focus on that for very long because he now found himself with a problem of his own. He was down to one arm and the man facing him had a pair of brass knuckles. The pipe had been bad enough but brass knuckles were basically impossible to disarm which meant that unless he knocked out the man or killed him he was going to take some more damage.

Suddenly a fist swung in his direction and Paul stumbled back as he tried avoid the punch. He tried to move back far enough to get in a kick but suddenly the woman and her attacker had rolled into his attacker and then tumbled on to entangle him in the mess. Suddenly powerless in this close of quarters all Paul could do was try to shield himself from attacks with his good right arm while trying to ignore the pain from his left arm as they rolled over and over on the floor.

"Augh!" He groaned through gritted teeth as his left arm briefly came in contact with the blond woman sending electrical shocks lancing through his limb and only magnifying the pain he was already feeling. He didn't know exactly what had happened or what he was feeling, all he knew was that the pain was intense and as they rolled there seemed to be no way to escape.

"No pain, no gain!" He finally gritted out as he pulled his right arm away from his face and shoved at one of the attackers. Sure, he was leaving himself defenseless now but unless he managed to get out of this mess things were going to get a lot worse for him!

Lori took a cheap shot in the ribs with something hard that drove all the air out of her. While she was watching spots dance across her field of vision and clawing someone's arm off of her throat it occurred to her that she could just fry the whole pile of them all at once.

So that is what she did.

The man at her throat jerked his hands away, an arm moved off of her leg and someone... someone else had something metal. The something metal she repelled off of her natural magnetic field. What would have taken him across the room now amounted to a shove. It was just luck that she tried to shove the metal away while he was between herself and away. Brass knuckles ended up hitting himself in the face.

The man that had been choking her got shoved harshly by another, older guy. He we either trading sides or going senile. Either way it gave Lori the opportunity to reach over to mister knuckles and give him enough of a zap to put him out. Not enough to kill him. She didn't have that much to spare anymore.

There were two men left standing now and she had no idea how she wasn't in that fight. Panting, Lori scrambled to her feet. She had to cough to catch her breath so maybe it was better that she wasn't. Actually, now that she was looking at them the angles were almost right...

Lori let the man dangling from the rafters go, or rather, she stopped pumping power to keep his chain magnetized enough to support a grown man's weight. He yipped in surprise, but not as much as the man he landed on. The blonde spit when she realized that the falling man was only going to take out one of the fighters.

Well. It looked like her fight wasn't done yet. She bent over and tugged off a shoe from one of the men laying ever so still. The shoe was still warm when her foot went into it and she was entirely lopsided in her stance, but now she was insulated, not wasting her power on maintaining anything and ready for the fight to be over.

Too bad she didn't have any marbles in her pocket today.

The pile had finally broken up and Paul rolled away before scrambling back up to his feet. His left arm seemed to be strangely twisted in the radius and ulna and it was hurting as badly as he'd hurt only a few other times in his long life. Blondie was scrambling to her feet while Paul tried to drum up at least a little more energy to finish off this fight. Right now his hour long run seemed pretty stupid and if the way the woman looked was any condition she was going to end up dead right after he died... again.

Suddenly the man up on the ceiling dropped like a stone, right onto the one that Paul was facing. "Thank goodness." He muttered as he turned back to face the blond who had somehow recovered her other shoe. Her shoes weren't supposed to be crimson, were they?

"So... can you just fry all of them so we can go to our respective homes now?" He asked wearily, dropping his right arm to hang at his side just like his useless left arm, "Or do you prefer leaving enemies alive so they can come after you again down the road?"

He was tired. Not quite dead tired but when he finally made it to bed there would be no dreams tonight. Of course that was assuming he could fall asleep with the pain that was radiating from his arm. Not for the first time in his life, Paul briefly considered the idea of forcing his resurrection power through self-inflicted means simply for the healing and renewal it would provide but he immediately shook it off. That was the wimpy way to go. Pain was something that made a person grow it wasn't something that a person should try to escape from. His arm would heal after it had been set by a doctor and he would learn a lesson from it. "And a suggestion for us both to remember... dodge blows from heavy objects, don't block them."

"One."

Lori bent her knees carefully so that she could maintain her balance on her heels as she crouched toward the floor. He was surprisingly calm for the last man standing. Groans did confirm that others in the rooms ere alive, but no one else seemed to have any fighting spirit left… except ol' smokey, here.

"You leave one alive. To tell others." She didn't take her eyes off of him. Her heart was still rushing adrenaline through her veins, getting her body ready for the fight to come.

Nobody said she would leave him alive.

Her fingertips brushed metal and she caught up the knife that she had been reaching for blindly. And then she threw it. Hard.

On almost any other day Paul could have defended himself or at least knocked the knife away so that it only hit an arm or shoulder or something. He had learned to protect himself on the streets, in the military, and even in organized martial arts. Dodging, blocking, or knocking away was second nature. Of course this wasn't any other day. This was today and Paul was tired from an hour long run followed by what amounted to a bar brawl. He could actual feel the muscles in his legs quivering ever so slightly just to keep him standing, at least he could until a knife suddenly sprouted out of his chest.

Looking down Paul just shook his head as he felt everything suddenly beginning to drain way which each beat of his heart. "What is it with me and knives?" He wondered loud enough for the woman to hear as he slowly collapsed to his knees, "This is the second time... third if you count me."

The stain was growing on his shirt as he looked up at the blond that he could credit with his fifth, or maybe it was sixth, death. His eyes were calm not trying to pass judgment or even ask why. Death was a part of his cycle and to be honest, this wasn't even one of his more impressive deaths.

"I thought you were out to kill humans... not mutants." Paul said coolly even though his voice was already beginning to weaken. Not wanting this to drag on any longer than necessary he slowly lifted his right hand and drew the knife out before dropping it to the floor in front of him. Suddenly his body lost its strength and he found himself sprawled out on the floor. It was interesting that this time his death could be credited to another mutant. All his previous deaths had been due to either an accident, a human, or suicide but never another mutant.

He'd have to track this woman down... same as he had that mugger so many years before. With that last satisfying thought, he thought no more.

He looked surprised. They always did when the knife actually stuck. More often than not a thrown knife was deflected, but a hard thrown knife had staying power, killing power.

Lori's lips twisted up in a mangled version of a smile. "Prove it." She watched that one until the life was gone from his eyes. It didn't bring her any joy, but she settled for grim satisfaction. More empty words of a dying man. And now she had a serious mess to deal with. Which one had she thrown her coat at? She might let that one live if he hadn't stained it too bad.

---

Some minutes later, Lori had made neat, almost surgical incisions across several throats. Even throats that did not require it of her. It didn't hurt to be careful. She raffled through wallets, collected a few things and wiped down what she thought might need wiping down.

The lone survivor had a little present in his palm. A cut semblance of the mark of the Order. He had a couple other presents too. She had curled his unmarked hand around the knife that had made the cuts and gifted all the cash she had collected in his wallet. She had taken his driver's license and put it in her own pocket in case she needed to find him again.

Lori had considered torching the place as was her natural inclination. Instead she had posed all the dead men around the survivor. They would watch him with unblinking eyes until he woke up. When he did wake, he would remember those weren't the only eyes watching him.

Satisfied, exhausted and no longer feeling frustrated with her current strifes, Lori found her suit coat outside laying across a trashcan lid as if it had been carefully placed. She slipped it over her clouded shirt, scrubbed at her cheek and put her hands in her pockets before strolling back onto her patrol route. The rest of her clothes were black.

She looked like hell, but the blonde had seen executives walking down the street that had looked more harried simply because of the economic downturn. No, she would finish her patrol if no other reason than the fact that it took her in a round about way back to the Sanctuary. In an hour she could have Riley on phone and a nice long shower.

Blue eyes stared unblinking and unseeing at the lone survivor as he slowly came 'round. His muffled shrieks and scream would have woken the dead if it were possible and there was no way he could ever have a night of unbroken sleep in the foreseeable future. From now on whenever he closed his eyes he would see other eyes staring back out at him, sightless and devoid of emotion. With broken sobs the man stumbled out of the room, leaving behind the circle of death that he had awoken in.


***

Some time later the room was suddenly illuminated by a flash of brilliant flames. The flames crackled with an intense heat, scorching the bodies that lay next to where the flames had suddenly burst into existence. A few minutes later the flame flickered and died leaving behind a dusting of ashes and a body laying upon them.

Slowly Paul moving into a sitting position, and then a standing one. Stretching he flexed the muscles in his left arm, smiling grimly at how everything felt perfect once again. Tiredness was gone, broken bones were miraculously whole, and he felt all over like a new man. Looking around him he took a moment to ponder exactly how the crime scene investigators would explain this. Five bodies posed in a circular shape with a sixth spot in the circle simply covered by ash.

"Why did he deserve burning?" Paul mimicked their questions aloud as he glanced around the room for the supplies that he would need to successfully get out. His own clothes had been torched due to his rebirth and he didn't particularly care for stripping the dead. Noticing a torn, dirty, moth-eaten blanket in the corner he strode over to it and wrapped it around his shoulders. It wasn't clothing but it would do for now. "And a little memento for my blond friend." Paul added as he reached down to pick up the knife that lay on the ground with a blanket covered hand. Wrapping it within the folds he turned and walked toward the door.

Moving out of the building Paul began to make his way down the alley ways, eyes alert for his next opportunity. He was almost giddy from the youthful exuberance and strength he could feel coursing through his body. It had been some years since he last felt this good but he was most certainly going to enjoy this. Speed... strength... passion... they all lay before him begging to be taken up and released upon the world. Though it was difficult to control all of the youthful hormones that were rushing through his body there had been plenty of time to practice over the years. Pleasure would be enjoyed at a later time but first business had to be dealt with.

***

A pair of worn boots only half a size two big led up to torn and tattered pants tied with a length of rope around the waist to keep them up. A wife beater t-shirt tucked into the pants while a ripped and shredded leather jacket covered his bare arms. Approximately fifteen or twenty bucks in cash were tucked in his pocket and the knife, with its handle wrapped by shredded pieces of blanket, was carefully concealed in the jacket's inner pocket.

It didn't take a lot to encourage the transient to donate to a worthy cause and revenge was the most worthy of all. Along with clothing Paul had collected the information that he was looking for. A blond lady wearing a fancy duds hung out at the place with the golden doors, according to the man on the street. And that was where Paul intended to find her.

***

Moving down the street toward the golden doors Paul watched everything closely. He hadn't seen her walking anywhere and so that probably meant she was inside but could he be sure? Was it a smart decision to simply go in and ask for her? Deciding that an aggressive approach was the best one Paul simply strode toward the doors. Noting the sign next the door Paul's mind suddenly made a connection. "Sanctuary... so the Order and the Sanctuary are connected. Very nice."

Continuing forward Paul opened the doors and stepped inside, muscles tensed for action and lips curved into what he hoped was a relatively pleasant smile.

The electric elemental entered through the garage so that Lisa would not have to say that she had told her so. She scrubbed at her nails briskly and stopped at a wall outlet before she changed out of her nice clothes and into the coverall. The clothes went into the incinerator, atop already piled ashes and, since she was already dressed for it, Lori let inspiration take her back to her pet project, the electric motorcycle. Did she really need an alternator?

Lori had disassembled the thing down to its frame again before she realized that Lisa did need to know that she was back. If the Order Leader disappeared for any amount of time, Lisa was sure to gather up a hunting party.

---

Jack, a long and lanky gentleman in a pinstripe suit who stood so tall that he was in danger of scraping his skull against door frames, adjusted his detachable head. He had been called to the lobby because it was supposed to be his turn roaming the streets. Since the landlady had taken his turn for him and because Lisa had not been able to convince their spitfire leader from running off alone, he had been sent out after her.

Only, for such short legs, the woman could really move quick when she was in a temper. And according to Lisa, it had been her temper that had chased her out of the Sanctuary that it's namesake offered. Since he had come back empty handed, Lisa was shouting at him.

She never noticed the man that opened the golden door and very nearly got Jack with the door.

After a perfunctory glance the skeletal man waved the gray haired fellow in with a grin. The guy looked as ratty as the day Jack had strode in on his long legs.

"—did you look for lightning out of a clear sky? Bent light poles? Cars—"

A soft clearing of the throat cut into Lisa's words. No one cut Lisa off. The secretary's eyes zeroed in on a short blonde in a gray grease monkey's coverall.

"Just wanted to let you know that I was back."

Apparently Paul had walked into the middle of an argument and he paused, using the distraction for his own purposes as his eyes quickly swept the room. Tall, skeletal, dangerous looking man being yelled at by a spunky woman. Apparently the Sanctuary must be full of those types because this woman probably would fit in perfectly with the blond.

Someone's throat was cleared and six eyes all focused on the speaker. It was the blond but something had happened to her clothes as well. Was it possible to fry cloth with electricity? "I'll have to research that." Paul thought to himself as his right hand slipped into his jacket.

Now it was decision time. Did he take full revenge by taking the woman's life in exchange for his own, accept that it was an honest mistake on her part, or choose something in between the first two options? His fingers closed around the blanket covered handle and as his arm began to withdraw he knew what choice he had to make.

"Next time, listen when someone says they're a mutant." Paul spoke in a lecturing tone as he whipped the knife toward the wall approximately three or four feet away from the blond, "Your next accidental victim might not be so understanding."

OK, so maybe he wasn't being understanding, maybe it was more curiosity. If the blond and Mr. Skeleton were any indication about what he could find at the Sanctuary then it might be just what he was looking for. Maybe someone here would be a person he could support, or maybe they'd just be more idiots like so many he'd run into in the past.

"I'm Paul McCoy. Anyone else care to offer up a name?"

Shock. And not her usual electrical kind. She... watched him die.

The knife flew wide and she wouldn't be bothered by it anyway. Not now that she'd had an electrical snack.

Lori watched the life slide out of his eyes. She slit his throat for good measure. She had moved his body, his lifeless, soulless body.

Heh. Well if he was soulless, he had at least ended up in the right place.

Lisa looked angry enough to explode. Jack looked confused about what to do. Grab the knife thrower or assuage Lisa. Lori, on the other hand, started with a small self amused smile that turned into an actual rolling laugh. The red in Lisa's face drained to white. They were all a bit mad there, but maybe Lori's laugh had a hint more madness than usual.

"I guess." She chuckled and had to start again after the giggle passed. "You proved me wrong." Lori shook her head and went to retrieve the knife from where it had landed.

Once her back was turned it was like the secretary had been freed from looking between the man and woman and trying to discern what had happened. "You made trouble, didn't you?"

"I ended trouble." Lori's tone was hard and final enough that Lisa sat back in her rolly chair. As if Lori's words stung. The blonde pulled the knife free and inspected it. Yep. Same one. Not that she had doubted. That ruled out twin or face changer. He had to have actually been there to retrieve this. More gently she added. "There will always be more, but not from them, Lisa. Most of them," Her eyes flicked to Paul, "stayed dead. Just the same you might send out feelers for backlash."

"So... do you want me to hit him or something?" Jack shifted on his spindly legs.

"It wouldn't do you much good, Jack. This man died a little over an hour ago." It was not Lori's habit to announce murder even in her own lobby. "Would you care to join me in my office, Paul? My name is Lori Faust." Lisa's desk had a name plate and Jack was already shrugging his way back toward the cafeteria. This was not his business anymore.

The blonde tucked the knife under her arm and offered her hand to Paul, if he would shake it. "So? Immortal? Healer? Reincarnator? We have one here that can regenerate so long as there's a cockroach around... Not too sure about the details on that one." If the fact that she was wearing bloody stilettos and a coverall bothered her it didn't show. For all her demeanor she might as well still be in her business slacks.