Disclaimers: I own nothing to do with Underworld. If I did, it would be Mr Sheen in those leather trousers :P

Dedication: for mellowenglishgal, coz she sat with me, not getting a word in edgeways and her tea getting cold, while I rabbited on about my idea. Love ya sweetie!

So, this is my version of 'what if Sonja never died?' Sonja never told Viktor she was pregnant so he never killed her (basically I was watching the film ROTL and Viktor's line that if Sonja hadn't got pregnant, her transgressions could have been swept under the carpet got me wondering ... so what if she hadn't told Viktor?) May have a 'cute' flashback to Sonja telling Lucian he's gonna be a daddy later. With have to give it some thought.

Hope you guys enjoy. R&R as always!

Chapter One

Selene followed the unsuspecting human through the streets of Budapest. He never even sensed her silent presence – she had been tracking things that would give this human yelp nightmares centuries before he had been anything more than an idea.

She saw the human heading towards the Metro station. Locking eyes through the deluge of rain with the vampire across the square, Selene gave a slight nod. Immediately the male vampire, Nathaniel, melted into the crowds. Knowing he would be where required Selene did not bother to track him, although she was one of the only two beings abroad tonight who would be able to.

Or so she thought. Twenty stories above her, the lycan Raze was perched like a gargoyle on the very edge of the building. The drop below him was not what made his brow furrow – even a newborn babe of his kind could survive that fall. Provided they did not land on their head. No, it was the vampires' purpose that concerned him. They had been unusually active of late, even more so than the darkness heralding winter should have allowed.

Filthy bloods, Raze thought. The war is over! We won! Why do they insist on continuing the feud? If Viktor wanted to keep his little race of 'true' vampires separate then fine, there were many covens of vampires and werewolves that wanted to do that. Lucien and Sonja had said they would not force anyone to co-exist that did not want to. And it was not Raze job to make them – he was a soldier, not a diplomat. He did not arrange where they lived, he just arranged where they died if they attacked each other. Secrecy was paramount – it was bad enough they were the stuff of legends, they did not need to make the humans anymore aware than they already were. Not with the weapons these mortals had created in the last century.

Shaking his head, Raze concluded his musings. They were thoughts he had had many times, and he would have them again no doubt in the years to come. Just give me something pale and cold to kill. Preferably close range and pissed off. He clenched and unclenched his fist – it had been awhile since his last fight and he was looking forward to getting back to fieldwork. Looking up, he saw Trix balanced on the stone railing of the clock tower. He was busy taking pictures of the vampires. If it did not give them a clue to the vampires' purpose it would at least ID the corpses. Oh, yes, Raze smiled, there will be corpses.

Trix finished his recon task and look to Raze for further instruction. Raze lifted a large hand and brought it down sharply in a small gesture that should have been lost in the distance that separated the two of them. Instead, Trix nodded and stepped off the ledge. Raze did likewise, enjoying for a second the thrill of plummeting 300ft knowing you will walk away unbruised.


Selene leant seemingly casually against the pillar in the metro platform. She looked at Rigel briefly. He returned the gaze with a half-smile of anticipation – he had been injured by a lycan on his last mission and had spent the last week healing. He was itching for payback.

Just remember the mission comes first, Selene thought. It would not do to return to the Ordoghaz without the prize and disappoint Viktor again. They had been tracking this one – Michael, Selene thought, he has a name – for a week now and Viktor was getting impatient.

The boy – Michael! – began to descend the stairs to the platform. Selene slid round the pillar so she could see him better. Longish brown hair, lean form, hazel eyes. Kind eyes, she thought before rebuking herself for focusing on such an insignificant – and, frankly, unhelpful – detail.

Not to mention soaking wet. The hood, like the rest of the jacket was cloth and did nothing to the rain but absorb it. All in all, he was unremarkable. Apart from the sweet eyes.

I'm getting old, she thought. Interesting how old women act like young, giggling schoolgirls – with the right incentive. Except I'm neither young nor giggly. I'm a six hundred year old warrior immortal with a pair of Berettas strapped to my thighs. Which was somewhere Mr Michael Corvin had no chance to going.
Pity, it's been a while. And he looks like he'd be good. Well, no worse than some of the others she had had over the centuries.

Michael looked up as he got to the bottom of the escalator. Standing there, looking alluring in the jeans and jacket that clung to her (admittedly great) curves thanks to the rain was the woman of his dreams. At least she would be, if he ever had the time to dream. Being a doctor was round the clock work. Still, she was a babe, and looking at him.

Don't be a loser and look behind you to see if her very large, very scary boyfriend is standing behind. Just smile and keep going. And whatever you do, DON'T fall on your ass like the last time a pretty girl batted her eyelashes at you! After that not-so pep-talk, Michael raised his eyes to the girl again and gave a small hi-I'm-a-nice-guy-not-hitting-on-you-just-smiling kind of smile. The babe looked at him. She had looked interested. Now she just looked sad. That bone deep kind of sorrow that never fades, just gets easier to hide. Michael wondered who she had lost.

Selene shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She decided she did not like this guy's eyes after all. Oh, cute and all with they're lost puppy that can see right through to your soul thing going on. She hated the feeling that this pup could see to her soul – that was a dark place, with many secrets and pains and many, many victims waiting to drag her beneath her sorrow and never let her resurface. May be I should take a holiday. Go to Hawaii and watch the sunrise. Selene was not really suicidal, but, just occasionally she wondered what would happen if she just did not fight back. The world would not end. Viktor would mourn her, certainly, but would find her replacement within hours of her passing. He was not the type to let emotions get in the way of his mission. And, to be honest, she was tiring of this mission. No matter how many they killed there would always be more vycans – those that believed the vampires and lycans could co-exist.

But they could not. Lycans were animals. They needed to be put down like the mangy dogs they were. They destroyed lives, tore apart futures, slaughtered families. They slaughtered my family. For all they're 'we can live together peacefully' bullshit, they forgot the humans. The ones who had no business in this infernal conflict. Selene had never taken a human life when another way was possible. She was not perfect – that choice was not one she always had – but she was better than them. Those lying, two-faced bureaucrats that extend the hand of friendship while sundering innocents with the other.

She watched as the human walked away from her murderous gaze. Oh, well done Selene! He's really going to talk to you now! Now that he thinks you're some kind of PSYCHOPATH! She gave a small growl and straightened up. She hadn't liked this mission from the first. Viktor knew that. She was a warrior, not a whore. Not only that but she had been a warrior so long that she did not know how to be a woman anymore. Women nudged and enticed. Warriors pointed a gun at your head and made you come with them. Selene knew which way she was more comfortable with. And it had nothing to do with thongs and fluttering eyelashes.

She sighed and moved away from the column. Viktor had said to do whatever necessary to get Michael to come with her. Just bump into him, act stupid and see where it goes, Selene ordered herself. If in doubt, act like Erika. Yeah, because she would be able to pull that off!

A train roared into the station. Michael headed for it. Two men were following him – one was big and black, looked like he should be playing American football. The other was Caucasian, much slighter than the other, closer to Rigel's physique. Selene made a dash for the train – she knew who these fuckers were.

Raze caught sight of the blood bitch heading for Corvin. Sorry, bitch, the blood bank is closed! Raze hefted a modified Uzi and took aim. Selene saw him out of her periphery and dived behind another cement pillars as the bullets slammed into the wall, barely missing her.

Selene threw off the long hoodie she wore. Twin Berettas were strapped to her hips. Selene grabbed them, took a breath and spun round the pillar, firing on sight. Her bullets smacked into the smaller lycan – Trix, she thought his name was, though she did not much care. He stumbled back, right off the platform on the tracks.

One gone, one here.

Blam! Selene watched horrified as the larger lycan turned away from her. Rigel was standing behind him, smoking gun in hand. Raze did not look happy at being shot in the back.

'FUCKING BLOOD!' Raze roared, firing round after glowing round into Rigel.

Where the hell's Nathaniel?!

As if in answer to her unspoken plea, Nathaniel tore round the corner, clattering down the stairs to the platform. He arrived just in time to see Rigel stumble.
What the -?!! Nathaniel watched as Rigel – disintegrated? He looked as though someone had dragged him into the sunlight, but there was none of that down here. They were 30 ft below ground. In HUNGARY. IN OCTOBER for fuck's sake. This should not be happening!

But it was. Nathaniel looked on helpless as Rigel became nothing more than a burnt out husk, his handsome features twisted in unbelievable agony. Goodbye, my friend, Nathaniel thought. And goodbye to you too, you mangy bastard! With that Nathaniel slammed himself into Raze, tackling him through the open door of the train and into the carriage. The screams of terrified mortals erupted around him but Nathaniel paid them no heed. They were inconsequential – their lives would be over in a matter of years anyway but Rigel? Rigel had been his friend, his comrade-in-arms, his brother for four hundred years. They had fought together, hunted together, whored together and now he was gone. Not without company, Nathaniel vowed. An appropriate Shakespearean quote came to mind, either thou or I must go with him. Either thou or I OR BOTH MUST GO WITH HIM!! Nathaniel slammed his fist into the lycan's face over and over again, all training, finesse and weapons forgotten. All he knew was that he wanted to inflict pain.

Raze grabbed the irate vampire by the collar and threw him over his head. The bloodsucker crashed through the other, not open, carriage door and on to the track. Raze pounced after him.

'Just you and me, bloodfucker.'

'That's fine with me, mongrel.' The vampire pulled two knives out of the waistband of his trousers.

'That's all you got? Two little toothpicks?'

'It's all I need.'

'You sure 'bout that?' Raze had the pleasure of watching his opponent's eyes grow impossibly wide at he realised his fatal mistake. He had moved away from mortal eyes. There was only him and a changing werewolf.

'Oh, shit.' If Raze was nig before, it was nothing to his size now. I guess it's me then. See you soon, Rigel.

Nathaniel's last thought was of the friend he had lost and the one he was leaving behind as 800 pounds of enraged, supernatural fur ploughed into him. Forgive me, Selene. May you do better than I. Raze's teeth crushed the vampire's skull, blood and grey matter exploding into his maw.

'Nathaniel!' No! This could not be happening! Not two in one night! Goodbye Nathaniel. I hope you find peace in whatever is waiting for us.

Nathaniel and Rigel. Both dead. One of them for one of us. It's not fair, but it's better than nothing. Selene slammed fresh clips into both her guns and headed for Trix, murder in her heart and the means to deliver it in her hands.

She jumped off the tracks where she had seen Trix disappear only a few minutes ago. Was it so soon? Death comes swiftly, even to immortals. She stalked along the tracks parallel to the train, heedless of the agitated mortals, craning down to look at her from inside the carriage. She knew that Michael Corvin could well be one of them. There will be time for him later. Once that lunar freak is dead! Selene reached the front of the train. Ducking down so Trix would not see her should he be standing there, Selene spun round the corner, guns pointed up.

He was not there.

Selene straightened up and heard something. Looking up, she saw the lycan perched on the top of the carriage. Selene pulled the trigger of both guns as the lycan leapt at her. The bullets slammed into him, knocking him backwards in midair. He smacked into the smaller carriage door at the head of the train. There was a crack as the lycan's head splintered the window. Selene stepped up to the dazed lycan slumped against the train. Planting one booted foot on his chest, she pulled the trigger, emptying the remainder of one of the gun's clips into the lycans skull. Blood, bone and grey matter splattered onto the front of the train. The occupants screamed, if possibly, even louder at the cold execution by the pale woman. Selene heard a roar and turned around the next corner so she was on the side away from the platform, facing a very pissed off, and changed, Raze. She emptied the remaining clip in the approaching lycan's chest. This did little to slow him down. Something larger then, Selene pulled four shuriken out of her pocket. Pressing the indented centre to activate the blades, Selene threw them one after the other into the werewolf's chest. Raze howled in pain and anger, but Selene ducked, crawling under the train itself, to the platform.

Finally, with a roar, the metro train pulled out of the station, taking her mission with it. Deciding discretion, not to mention freedom, was the better part of valour in this case, Selene ran for the stairs as Raze melted into the shadows.

Soon, they both vowed, soon I will repay you for tonight.

Author's Note: It seems a little backwards what with Selene being in a hoodie and jeans, not the leather cat suit and her tracking Michael not the lycans. All will make sense, I promise (I have a weird need to much flashback-ness so everything before this point will get explained).

Hope you liked! I have exams coming up so an update my take a while, but I had to get this out there.