Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I was having a hard time getting this final chapter written. Next time I'm going to write a whole story beforehand so that I can just chop it up into chapters. :)
Turning away from the dock she walked back towards the warehouse. With every step she took, her vision returned to it's normal fuzziness. It was interesting how her vision had become so sharp during the fight. Henry would warn her that the demon marks had caused it which, according to him, automatically made it a bad thing. She agreed that the demon marks themselves were a bad thing. But she couldn't bring herself to say that everything they caused was bad.
She was almost to the warehouse when she heard movement approaching from behind. Before she could even turn around she was knocked face first to the ground. The sound of gun shots from in front of her caused her to quickly cover her head. It seemed as if she were now being attacked on two fronts. A heavy weight landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her, as large hands circled her neck and began to squeeze. She tried to free herself and, over the sound of the blood rushing in her head, could hear other people trying to help her. Just as her vision had turned black with blue speckles the pressure on her neck released itself and she felt the warmth of blood soak into the shirt on her back. She took several deep breaths trying to restore much needed oxygen to her own blood.
"Vicki, can you hear me?"
She slightly raised herself from the ground and nodded as Henry's face floated into her visual range. She watched as he reached over her and rolled the body off of her. Turning to her side, she looked into the face of the now dead Phillipe. She imagined in just an hour, his body would be nothing but ash. The only thing left to haunt her would be her memories.
"Thanks," she whispered raspily to Henry.
"You're welcome though at the time I wasn't sure how happy you would be to see us. You fought us to get away from your office."
She saw Mike walking towards her with a distinct limp and a bruised face. His gun was resting in his hand hanging loosely down by his leg. That answered her question about "us" but still didn't cover the "huh" portion.
Henry took the time to fill her in. She apparently had left her sofa bed and wandered out into the main part of the office where he and Mike had been brainstorming. When she hadn't responded to any of their concerned inquiries, they had both approached her. Mike had been knocked out cold by her unexpected attack and when Henry tried to stop her, she had stabbed him in the gut. While not deadly, the injury had been painful and it had been awhile before he could move enough to rouse Mike. They had tracked her to the area just in time to see her walking away from the dock.
Now that Vicki was standing on her own two feet she was able to catalog the aches and pains throughout her body. All she really wanted was to go back to bed and forget everything that had happened. She looked at both the men before her and felt her heart clench. They both meant so much to her and yet someday she knew she would have to choose one over the other. But that was a matter for another day. For today she would be grateful that they all had survived. Touching each of them lightly on the shoulder encouraged them to start walking with her away from the dock,
"Let's go home. We've won this time."