"Your master must be very pleased with your dedication." It was just idle chatter, really. Whether or not he was telling the truth or thinking highly of himself wasn't important. Again, he was too eager to help. She never liked those who were too willing to lend a hand. The hands and feet that rushed first always had something else hidden in their sleeves. "…Alright then. Let's get on with it." Already the desire for vengeance was waning as she saw the other's desire to begin. Whispers of reservations, doubts chattered away in her mind. Was she having second thoughts? Wait and see; that was what she would do. Yes, just like always.

She never said more than that as they went towards the place, but she wasn't blind enough to think she would be doing the world a service. 'Saving lives' by taking them…what an oxymoron. First, she needed to reclaim that which was hers, then take what she was after. When this was all over, it would just be a bad dream.

The hideout came in view, the banner with the crow's skull clear in the moonlight. It was quiet as dusk had fallen and silence wrapped like a cover over their steps. It was the same as she had last seen when the wagon drove away. There were no guards to greet their arrival, as the cult probably didn't mind any wayward visitors from entering at their own risk. Shiloh was a step behind Logan, seeing how he was the one who wanted to start with the retribution. Once they went in there would be no turning back. Mentally she wasn't prepared. She had nothing else to defend herself with but her own mind, but would that be enough? Grimly she mused that technically she wouldn't need to worry about combat…the man had that covered. 

When this was over it would just be a bad dream. A bad dream which would wash itself away in the shadows and moonlight.

It was not difficult to see that she did not believe his words about his Lady.  Not that it really mattered.  That was not the important part of what was about to happen.  It was her permission to go about his work that Logan needed to hear, and once he got that permission, a grim smile crossed his face and the vampire bowed to her.  "As you wish, mi'lady," he said, the serious tone remaining in his voice so that she would know he was not mocking her in any way.   The weight of his words and actions would be on her shoulders, and Logan turned away before she could see the cruel glint in his eyes.  He was going to enjoy this.

The entryway was unguarded, and Logan stalked through, eyes and ears open for the first sign of trouble.  The first was a guard dozing at the top of the stairs leading into a meeting room, and Logan shoved his hand over the guard's mouth.  He stared into the man's eyes, then shoved him past the girl and towards the stairs.  "He has no part in the murders and kidnappings.  It is not in his eyes," he explained quickly and quietly.  The lad fled down the stairs, and for a fleeting moment, Logan hoped he would find a new path in life.  He had yet to take a life, and there was still time for him.  But his thoughts turned to the voices beyond the door, hearing them plan for the next batch of people to come through, who would be taken to the slave pens, and who would be killed.  People being categorized like cattle…  It reminded Logan of the Order, deciding who would be killed or saved based on simple characteristics. 

There were a half dozen of them left, the rest having gone with Lady Blackwell on her ill fated trip.  Logan quickly surveyed the situation, eying each person in turn.  The three drawing weapons decided his first action.  In the blink of an eye, three daggers flew from his belt, pinning a piece of clothing to the walls behind the trio.  The three that were pushing each other in a panicked attempt to flee were his next target.  A woman and two men, he could tell they were the brains of the operations.  "Well now, you're the lovely people who have been terrorizing this part of the city?  Well, no more of that.  I won't even ask how many innocents you've killed and sold.  I can hear it in your words.  Enough that your fellow man means nothing to you but coin.  A real pity.  Death has come for you, I may even visit you in the Circles you end up in," Logan said, the cruel grin spreading across his face.  One man was gutted, and left to die slowly on the floor.  The second man had his throat slit, spurting blood all over the walls and the woman who was now screaming.  And it was she who became his next meal.  "You, my dear, are still quite… appetizing despite your many sins.  But that will not save you," he growled before drinking deeply from her neck.  The terror in her eyes told Logan that she knew she was being punished, and that this was no random killing.  It had a purpose.

She was dropped to the ground twitching after a short sword bit in to his arm, and Logan only turned and grinned.  "I'm already dead, you know.  I would think the blood drinking would give that way," he said with a laugh as he jerked the sword out of the woman's hand.  She was clearly one of the enforcers, not a screamer like the woman who was still twitching on the floor.  Gods only knew how many people she had killed.  She reached for a metal studded club, but Logan was faster, especially flush with fresh blood.  The short sword was jammed into her gut and twisted, and Logan spoke again.  "Perhaps your own blood on your hands will lend weight to all the blood you've spilled.  Think about that as you die," he said coldly, then stepped away from her.  There were two left, both men, and both stepping towards him with weapons drawn.  It was time to make them confess their sins as well.

After they entered the hideout, she had slipped away from Logan to search for her stolen belongings. She had no idea where they had been thrown, hopefully they weren't auctioned off or taken as personal trophies. Tracking them down wasn't difficult as she had to trace her own aura. Sneaking past people and breaking into one of the locked rooms she found her knapsack. A quick count made her sigh in relief. Everything was accounted for. Even the silver, surprisingly but she could care less about the money. Sneaking back out she was searching for the way out when she heard a terrible scream. It was the same screams that the guards who had dragged her into the wagon made, that same pitch of shrieking terror. Then there were other sounds. Sounds of a struggle that was futile, like a slow suffocation.

The worst part of it all, was Logan's words. With her senses, she could hear every syllable with perfect clarity. There was the sound of something begin stabbed, but no mention of pain. Seconds later there was the tell-tale grunt of a weapon finding its way into its victim and the ragged gasps before death. To Logan and anyone else nearby they would only hear what was being said, but Shiloh heard more than that. Voices, whispers–all panicked and frenzied swirled around her head as the dying criminals writhed in their last moments. 

'No! No!! Stay back! Get away from me you monster!!' 'Please oh gods no! Spare me I'm begging you–I swear let me go this time!' 'I don't want to die! No, not now! I'm not ready to go!' 'I beg you have mercy!' 'I can't die here! Help–somebody!' 'What?! How?! No, no this can't be happening! This isn't an attack from the Blood-Wolves' assassins!'

The memory of her last moments before being buried alive resurfaced. Why was she remembering this now? She wasn't supposed to feel sorry or pity them. Just hours ago they planned to sell her off to the highest bidder to either an assassin's guild or a gladiator ring. They were repaid for their actions…weren't they? The strong stench of blood was in the air, and the whisperings of shadows grew louder. Shutting her eyes she covered her ears as tightly as she could in hopes of stifling out the sounds. 

If he had tortured them, traumatized them, or even beat them within an inch of their lives she wouldn't have been bothered. Anything so they would learn their lesson and ensure that they never forgot. But now, she was coming to the cruel realization that she had inadvertently ordered a hit on an entire cell of cultists. She was starting to feel severely ill, and everything began to spin. This wasn't what she had wanted. 

They were trying to be brave, and Logan could almost commend them for it.  But they were cowards and bullies, only seeking targets they were sure they could beat.  Now, faced with someone who had so easily murdered their companions, they had to put on a brave face.  "Well, you can die here, that I promise.  And no.  Though perhaps I'll go after the Blood Wolves next?  Oh, a turf war!  Wouldn't that be delightful," Logan said with a vicious grin.  If one action would cause even more death and chaos, so be it.  And the souls in this town were all so corrupt, for the most part.  A plan was forming in his mind, pushed to the back for a few moments as he faced the last two before him. 

Drawing the dragonbone blade, he held it before him in a relaxed stance with one hand and beckoned with the other.  The pair seemed to know they would not leave without getting past him.  They charged together, one with an axe and the other with with a mace.  They were a bit better than the rest, Logan actually had to put effort into evading their attacks.  The sword wound smarted, but he could move past that pain.  The blade swung once, literally disarming the man with the axe.  The axe with his arm still clutching it fell to the ground, and Logan swung the blade once more to cut the man's throat.  He barely caught the arcing blow that would have come from the mace, and he dropped the longer blade in favor of his dagger.  The dagger found its way between the man's ribs and into his heart. 

Not that he was done with the deaths.  Oh no, he was only beginning.  Taking a cue from the terrified words, he wrote on the walls in the blood of the dead around him.  The Blood Wolves Are Next!  went on one wall, while The Red Crows Had It Coming! went on the opposite wall.  Then he had an idea.  Using his dagger, he cut out the intestines of two of those now dead wrote a final message on the floor.  The Onyx Bears Are Thieves and Cowards was in carefully laid lengths of intestine, and it would hopefully begin a lovely little war.  If only the woman had said no…  There would be so many more deaths now, especially given how proud the Bears were of their reputation for bravery.  Gods only knew who they would blame for the messages, and Logan did not particularly care.  They would turn on each other, and more death would come from one woman's decision to seek vengeance.

Stepping out of the room, he washed his hands in a barrel of water and quickly cleaned his weapons as well.  Then he went to find the young woman.  "My dear, the deed is done.  They died knowing their sins, and they will be a warning to others.  That is what you wanted, is it not?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk but soaked in venom.

Silence filled the halls as the stench of blood filled in the void. When he asked her the question, she said nothing. Sitting on the floor, staring ahead and through the walls vacantly she only blinked in reply. Of course it wasn't what she wanted. It was obvious now. She'd been lied to, misled. She knew when she'd been had, and it stung. 

'You should've known better.' Yes, she really should have. The whispers of shadows were quiet now. Even they knew the full weight and severity of her actions. Her error–though small, had been so grievous that they weren't even mocking her. Shiloh was sure Logan was smirking in satisfaction, even if she wasn't looking at him. "…You've done what you came here for. Shouldn't you be leaving?" The tone wasn't incensed or accusatory. She wasn't ordering him around, or trying to get her way. None of that mattered.

Just one small mistake, and disaster beyond her expectations had descended like a plague. Regardless of what happened after this, she would have to carry the weight of this night. It always boiled down to being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Just like back then… The other times didn't count, since she just happened to be around when they happened. But this time, she didn't have an excuse. It was her fault. Even if those people were the scum of the earth, it didn't justify anything. Now they'd never have the chance to change, because they were dead. Nothing had changed. The 'retribution', the 'judgment'–it was all for nothing. 

Her silence was all the answer that Logan needed to her, and he finally allowed the smirk to cross his face.  "As you wish.  I leave you in the charnel house of your own making.  Take your next steps as you will, but take the lesson you've learned here to heart," he said, unable to keep the smirk out of his voice as well.  Now, she knew him for the monster he was.  And she had given him permission.  There was satisfaction in his voice too, it was clear he had enjoyed the gruesome killings.  He offered her a final bow, then turned and left the room.  Logan had already decided he would wait around for a few days, just to see what unfolded between the gangs of the city.

As he walked through the streets, Logan let out a low chuckle.  Tonight had been very fruitful, and he knew more souls would find their way to his Lady.  And all it had taken was the choice of one person.