A/N: lol guys I'm not dead and neither is this story. I'm finally updating after like, 9 months or so. I'm so sorry for the delay. I promise I've been trying to write this out. It's been really hard getting into it but here I am ready to pounce. Thank you all for reading and for still sending reviews even during the long absence. I read every word you write to me and I love it all. Thank you!

Special thanks to Musicnutftw who has endless and routinely encouraged me to keep working on this fic and chapter through her wonderful patience and support.

Here we go:

Mark stared at the screen after Victoria named the entity they'd just seen. She'd reversed the video just enough to stop it on the frame where the being stared at the camera. It knew where to look. It knew it was being watched. It had chosen to show itself.

She wondered about that.

Hiei hissed in a breath behind her, shooting a quick phrase to Kurama who crossed the room to hover behind Mark, bracing an arm against the wall to leverage himself so he could see the screen too. He spoke back to Hiei, his tone just as quietly harsh. Mark looked between the two of them and shifted uncomfortably.

"Did you want to review this more in my room? Where there's a little more space?" He offered to Victoria, who finally broke eye contact with the screen.

She thought about it for a second before suppressing a smile. Turning to him she allowed him to see the lift of her brows. "It might take a while. Are you okay with having company all night?"

He looked at her mouth, then nodded. "Yeah, I think I'd like that actually. Then we could really hash out the details, you know. Go slow. Frame by frame."

"I don't think that's wise." Kurama interrupted them casually. "Victoria, you're going to need rest. These sorts of escapades take a lot out of you."

"Okay, mom." She rolled her eyes. "I think I'll be okay."

She nodded to Mark for him to gather his things and she slipped off the bed too.

Kurama watched them for a minute before glancing to Hiei with brows raised. Hiei shook his head, huffing. Victoria turned to eye them both.

"What?" She demanded.

"No one said anything." Kurama told her coolly.

"You didn't have to." She deadpanned. "What is it?"

"Could you at least tell us where we're supposed to eat before you run off?" He responded easily.

"Order room service."

"Maybe we should go over it with the crew as a group." Mark suggested suddenly, eyes connected to Hiei's. That crimson glower made him shift uneasily. "It might save time."

"I mean, we could. Or we could go through it now. Together." She pressed.

"Group is good." He nodded to her. "I'll see you later, Vick. Get some sleep."

Then he left. Hiei immediately loosened up in his absence, body posture softening some. Victoria pressed her lips together, looking between the two boys and shaking her head.

"Seriously?" She demanded of them. "You two little cockblocks need to relax."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What's a cockblock?" Kurama asked, puzzled.

"It's someone who makes it their damn job to prevent someone else from having sex." She jutted a finger toward his face. "I don't know what you two are up to, but I don't appreciate it."

Hiei smirked at her, head tipped to the side. She pinned him with a vicious glare. He looked to Kurama and then chuckled to himself, rolling from her bed to throw himself onto the couch.

"I hope you wake up with neck pain." She muttered.

You need a nap. He signed to her with his eyes closed, content with his choices.

Kurama, Hiei and Victoria sat around the round table in the hotel room, situated by the window in the morning, the curtain pulled shut to protect them from the glaring sunlight. She went through the list of items on the table, the ones they'd be combining into the pomanders they would be making to bolster everyone's chances of safety. Herbs, salt, small chips of stones, muslin bags. It had been amazing watching her pull so many items, which seemed unrelated, from her duffel bag and assigning them each a designated and important purpose.

"St. John's Wort?" Kurama clarified, examining the bottle of capsules Victoria had handed him.

"Has few good uses. It can help lift your mood, for instance but it interacts with birth control so I don't recommend it. But for us, it'll provide much needed protection. We're going to add it to the sachets." Victoria nodded. "Along with good ole fashioned salt."

"And the bread?" Kurama glanced at the bakery fresh loaf Victoria had picked up early that morning when she'd gone out for her supplies.

"Could be protection, could be an offering. We'll see how the day goes."

Hiei listened to them talk and then looked down at the ingredients on the table. It didn't seem like much to him. In their world ground herbs and salt wrapped in a bag wouldn't serve as anything other herbs and salt in a bag. There was no magic. He found it incredibly interesting that Victoria could derive power from such innocuous things. Interesting and strange and a little disconcerting. But this morning she was teaching them how to harness that power too. He was eager to learn.

"If we were dealing with an actual spirit, salt would pretty much do the trick. You'd cleanse with some herbs or a spray and that would be that." She went on. "But we aren't dealing with a spirit and so we have to take different measures. Had I known what I was walking into I'd have been better prepared. It is really important to me that you two understand you don't need to come. This could get dangerous."

"Is this a demon?" Kurama asked because he knew Hiei was wondering too. "It didn't look natural."

"No. It's not really a demon, per se." She made a face before chewing on her thumb's nail bed.

Hiei and Kurama exchanged a look, both of them frowning.

"Do you think she's ready for this?" Hiei asked, not particularly caring that Victoria glared at him for hiding the conversation. He didn't have any choice. Kurama didn't use sign and Hiei wasn't about to reveal the fact he spoke English. She was just going to have to suck it up for the moment. If they were really walking into a dangerous situation that required precautions like this, then he wanted to know she was up to the task of making it back out.

"She said she was. We have to have a little faith." Kurama smiled. "You're feeling confident, aren't you?"

Victoria offered an iffy gesture with her hand and Kurama's smile wavered into something forced. Hiei snorted.

Can I have two of these then? Hiei requested, offering a dull wave toward the ingredients. Victoria shrugged.

"Let's get to work." She announced and began the process of showing them how to make the sachets they'd keep on them during this ordeal. "Hiei, I want you to keep that necklace on until we're headed home, do you understand?"

He narrowed his lids at her.

"Just do it." She demanded, rolling her eyes. "This creature isn't like Dorian, or like a ghost, or the demon I faced before. This is something else. And it will not hesitate to fuck with you. I want you as protected as possible."

"Do you happen to have a second necklace then?" Kurama asked seriously, eyebrows raised.

"No. We'll ward you in a different way, Kurama. Hiei requires stronger efforts than you will. When we got to the house felt what was happening the same way I did. You didn't react like that. I think the rift cracking for a minute triggered an opening in him." Victoria explained loosely, focused on the task of assembling her sachets. "I'm not taking fucking chances with this one."

The memory of Dorian's mark burning her forehead when she made her deal with the demon during her last excursion haunted her. She couldn't face him again so soon. Handling this would require more finesse to avoid catching his attention. Not that she warned the boys about her thoughts. She didn't want to alarm them.

Besides, it's not like they were in any position to do anything about it.

"We'll go grocery shopping on the way. If you're going to come with me you might as well make the most of it. We'll pick up a cooler for you too. I have plenty but you should have your own in case you ever decide to go out without me."

The entire crew leaned against their various vehicles, chatting in the heat when Victoria's truck rolled up. The minute she cut the engine Mark strolled over with a smile that barely concealed his anxiety. Still, he found it in himself to scan Victoria over when she hopped out the cab, something she and the boys noticed. It brought an easy grin to her lips as she reached over and extended one of the sachets to him. Kurama unloaded the cooler from the bed of the truck while Hiei stood there with arms crossed over his chest, scowling.

"Thanks." Mark accepted it readily, his fingers grazing hers as he curled them around the gift.

"Looks like you told the crew." She commented, looking through the cab windows to where the others loitered.

"I had to. I didn't want that thing showing up and hurting someone." He told her. "No one wants to go in there now. We're sort of at a standstill. The producers are suggesting letting you work then have everyone else go in and do a false ending."

"We've done that before." Victoria nodded. "Why do I feel like there's something else."

"No one wants you to do this off camera, especially not alone. So now we're stuck." He slid his hands into his pockets. "Or we were until I volunteered to set up a few stationary cameras. It'll give the crew peace of mind, and maybe we'll be able to use some of the footage."

"You don't have to do that. This won't be like the demon Mark. The thing that's in there, it is not bound by the same laws. I don't even want those two coming in but they won't accept no for an answer. This is out of my depth, I've never had to handle something like this before. If I mess up anyone in there could be-" Victoria wrapped her arms around herself, bringing her thumb up to her mouth again.

"Hey. I've done a lot of these sorts of things with you Vick, and that makes me feel pretty confident in saying that the only the chaotic powerful being that matters in that house is going to be you." He offered her a grin. "And I'm going to be there to watch you kick this thing's ass."

"Thank you." She loosed her arms from around her middle. "There's just one problem."

"What problem?" Brandon demanded, rounding the van to stare at her. "Are you saying you can't do this?"

"I'm saying it might take time." Victoria wrinkled her nose. "I'm going to need to figure out the best methodology for getting rid of this being. We're not talking about a cleansing and chants and salt to fix this. This is going to be a process."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Brandon demanded.

"Can I help?" Mekenzi walked over, concern creating lines around her mouth.

"Maybe." Victoria nodded to her. Then she focused on Brandon. "It means what it mean, Brandon. This isn't a one and done scenario. We're dealing with a trickster. This isn't a malevolent spirit. It's an actual chaotic entity with it's own rules and powers and energy. It's in there for a reason and it's not going to leave quietly or serenely. There's no blessing this thing out of there. And it's probably not going to reveal itself in any tangible way until it's ready to."

"Fuck." The crew all muttered together.

"Also, I need iron. Horseshoes, spikes, whatever anyone can dredge up. Go to any local antique shops and bring me what you find." She advised. "I might be stuck playing this thing's game by it's rules but I don't intend to lose."

"Brandon and I will go to the shops." Mekenzi volunteered. "Mark will stay with you and your friends."

"Well then gang, let's split up."

Kurama and Hiei moved through the house together, spreading lines of black salt in front of all the doors and windows after they'd set Kurama's groceries in the kitchen. Not that salt had proven effective before. Kurama wondered if this was just busywork to keep them out of the way. Hiei wondered if there was more to this than Victoria was letting on. The weight of the necklace around his neck helped ease some of his anxieties though. Kurama's sachet remained firmly in the front pocket of his jeans.

"Okay, the cameras are set up." Mark announced to Victoria as she studied the limp ferns on the window sill.

Her fingers came back dry as she prodded at the soil. Her lips pursed in thought. These plants had been thriving the day before. Now they were withered and looked as though they hadn't been cared for in weeks. She hummed to herself, rising to her feet.

She wandered around the room, tracing her fingers over the fabric of the couch back as she walked passed. The thrumming, potent, undercurrent of darkness resonated through her fingertips. Inhaling deeply through her nose she tried to pinpoint the strange smell that was desperately working to trigger a memory long forgotten in her. Her memory or someone else's?

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced to the side to glimpse the mirror reflecting her face back to her. For just a second, fleeting, she'd seen someone smiling behind her. A flash of eyes and teeth. Then just her. Squinting she stood in front of the glass which was anchored against the living room wall surrounded by family pictures. The frame was ornate, her nails scratched at the stained wood and she could tell it was old. Expensive.

"This is new." She told Mark calmly. "This mirror. They must have put it up recently."

"Do you think that's the culprit?" He asked, staying close to his equipment.

"No." Victoria mumbled as she leaned closer to the glass. "But I do think it's interesting. Mirrors are seen as portals in a lot of cultures. Gateways. The in between, if you will. That's why you cover them when someone dies, to prevent their soul getting trapped. This mirror is old, I'd bet it still has silver as the backing for the glass."

"Why's that important?" Kurama joined them.

"Because demons don't like silver." She frowned. "That's why the rumor about vampires not having reflections came out. Silver is considered a holy metal. They can't touch it, according to lore. Therefore they couldn't be reflected in it. Nowadays we use aluminum. It's cheaper, easier to mass produce."

"And that means?"

"It means that the silver chain Mekenzi is wearing to protect herself is a placebo. It won't keep anything at bay in this house." Victoria continued moving on, able to assert a more complete inspection of the house. "Are the cameras rolling?"

"Yeah. They'll be feeding to the computer. I'll have to change the batteries throughout the day." Mark nodded.

"Good. Put these on the cameras and stands." Victoria pulled a handful of mailing labels out of her back pocket, a sigil scrawled in black ink on each sticker. "For protection."

"Do these work?" He asked her.

"So far." She began to move to the kitchen when Hiei stepped in her way. They met eyes and sneered, looking around. "I know."

His lips pressed together.

"Was there anywhere you felt particularly unsettled?" She asked him.

This whole house is a, frowned unable to form the word he wanted with his hands so he turned to look at Kurama. "Tell her this place is a cesspit of rotten energy."

"Hiei says this house is full of bad energy." Kurama coated the words with a little more tact than how they'd been offered to him.

"That's not what he said." A voice breathed against Kurama's ear, so quiet he couldn't be sure it wasn't his own thought echoing. Spinning around the redhead scanned the area beside him, stance widened and eyes narrowed.

"Kurama?" Victoria's voice demanded his attention.

"I thought I heard something." He explained quietly, not turning to look at her.

"That's what happened to Brandon." Mark reminded him. "Did you feel anything?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to wait outside?" Victoria asked him, but her tone suggested she knew his answer already so he just loosened himself up so he could look at her, shaking his head. She offered him a nod in return then aimed herself toward the kitchen.

The room looked immaculate. She studied the scratches in the plaster on the wall, the gouges in the floor. The spacing was wrong for fingers, too wide. Also there were only three lines on the floor in a row but six on the wall. It was like the trickster couldn't decide who it was trying to present as. All this attention seeking but no clear aim or design.

"Kurama I need your help with something." Victoria called to the redhead who made quick work of getting into the room. "I don't want to ruin these people's paint. Can you use chalk to draw this symbol of the windows and doors of the kitchen?"

She produced another of her mail-label sigils, showing him what she needed him to replicate. While he looked it over she went to her duffel bag and grabbed black chalk.

"Will it have the same effect?" His eyes met hers. "I don't have your power."

"Make it work." She told him. "Draw it, picture it radiating protective energy whatever that looks like to you. Focus on it. It'll work if you want it to. Put your hand over it when you're done drawing and imagine yourself giving it power. Don't give too much or you'll get dizzy. I think you can do it."

"Why me though?" He frowned.

She tossed him a grin that touched her eyes. "Because you're taller than me."

He blinked then chuckled and nodded.

"Why just the kitchen?"

"So you can cook up whatever it is that you're going to make. Just be warned, Grams has never lost a cooking competition in her life." Victoria teased. "I'm going to go upstairs and explore some more."

In the living room Hiei eyed Mark, watching him apply the sigils to his equipment with diligent care. Mark looked up at him from where he crouched, brow pinched. Hiei remained impassive, neutral.

"Did you want to help?" Mark asked him.

Hiei turned on heel and left the room to join Kurama in the kitchen.

"Cool." Mark muttered, shaking his head as he went back to his work completely unaware of the grinning figure who stood behind him, watching his actions closely once Hiei had gone. Slowly it lowered itself to mimic his crouch. "I don't care what she says, his eyes are fucking creepy."

The trickster tipped it's head to the side that sharp-toothed grin growing wider.

Mark stiffened, whipping his head around to find himself alone in the room. Nostrils flaring he searched the space with his eyes. Quickly he finished up his work. Trying to not seem as spooked as he felt, he exhaled slowly and kept his movements controlled while he got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen, where Kurama tiptoed to write above the entryway in chalk, casting a sigil like the one on the cameras.

"Where's Vick?" Mark demanded, unnerved.

"Exploring." Kurama answered, distracted. "Can you please be quiet? I'm trying to not mess this up."

Victoria found nothing of note in the bedroom or the guest room or the sewing room. The beds were made, the rooms were intact. If anything was out of place she didn't catch it. She took pictures with her phone as she walked through the halls, the rooms. Not that she expected to see anything. When she got to the bathroom her hand hesitated on the handle before she twisted it open. The sound of gasping breathes, splashing water, feet slipping against porcelain, kicking trailed through mind. Stress clenched her stomach. Fire hit her lungs. The desperate, constricting panic of being thrust into danger with no warning, of not knowing if you'd get out of it.

What a horrible, terrifying experience.

They were going to sell the house, she knew intrinsically. Even if she managed to clear this place they were still going to uproot their lives and find a new home that wasn't tainted by fear. Except that fear would follow them, she knew from experience.

The door opened under her guidance and she stepped into the bathroom as the echo of the attack faded. It had left a mark on this room, stained it like the mold growing in the grout between the out-of-date pink tiles making up the bottom half of the walls. She took a picture, focusing on the mold. It didn't touch the slate grey paint that colored the walls from midway to ceiling, or the white trim around the window above the tub. She made a note in her phone to ask about whether it had been there before. A house that was so pristine, so full of life and well cared for, it surprised her that something like mold would go untended. The black fanned out from the white clawfoot tub across the walls. The grey click-wood floorboards were unaffected. No mold near the white porcelain sink, or across the soft white counter.

She inhaled and then turned to the tub.

Carefully she made her way over and, with her shoes still on, she climbed into it. Laying with her eyes open she looked up at the ceiling, her phone clutched in her hand.

Why?

Why had it decided to try to drown one of the owners? What had happened before that? How long had activity been going beforehand? Had they failed to report details?

Why escalate only to retract?

Loss of power?

Loss of interest?

She continued to stare at the grey ceiling, attention unfocused as her thoughts whirred with a battery of questions.

What was the goal?

In her experience, spirits were like criminals. They very rarely committed harsh offenses only to backtrack and stick to misdemeanors. This thing could have killed someone but then it settled with just whispering to Brandon? To messing with Mekenzi? To watering plants even though it had a full, corporeal body?

It obviously had the power. Where was the commitment?

"Victoria! Goddammit! Open the door!"

Mark's panicked cry broke through her reverie, followed by the sound of him pounding against the bathroom door. She sat up slowly, eying the bowing wood.

"Victoria!" He called again, trying at the handle. "Open the fucking door!"

She climbed out of the tub and made her way to the door. "It's unlocked, Mark."

"What?" He stopped his pounding at the sound of her voice. She looked at the lock.

"It's unlocked." She repeated. "There's no reason you shouldn't be able to open the door."

"Well, I can't." He huffed, out of breath. "I've been trying to get your attention for like three minutes. I thought you were in trouble."

She reached forward and twisted the handle. The door opened easily for her, revealing Mark's wild eyed stare. He rushed in and grabbed her, yanking her out of the room. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her as she wondered about the reasons behind the event. He panted for a few seconds then slowly released her.

"I don't think it wants to kill anyone." She explained thoughtfully as he stepped back.

"That's bullshit. It threatened Brandon. It tried to drown-"

"If it wanted to kill anyone they'd be dead. Do you know how strange and rare it is to have a fully corporeal entity? It wanted to scare everyone." She cut him off to explain.

"Why?"

"I don't know." Her eyebrows came together then. "I don't know yet."

Hiei stood in the hall down from them, chest heaving. He held a kitchen knife in his hands, eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked from Mark to Victoria where they remained, boring into her and demanding an answer for a question he had no articulated. He'd heard the commotion, the yelling. He was ready to deal with whatever was happening in the only way he knew how: through force. Mark turned and spied him, stepping back with alarm wracking through his form.

The front door opened up and they all stared toward the source of the noise. Voices followed, Brandon and Mekenzi announcing their return. The three of them let go of the tension that had immediately seized them.

"Did you bring what I asked?" Victoria yelled to them, not moving.

"Yeah, we got it." Brandon yelled back.

"Do you think it'll help?" Mark's question came out quietly.

"Of course I do. That's why I asked for it." She told him, nodding toward the stairs. "Let's go."

He followed her lead, as did Hiei. When the walked into the kitchen the savory smell of food tickled their noses. Mekenzi was watching him work with high interest.

"Is that a spell?" She asked.

"No, it's victory." Kurama responded, though his lips pursed. "Or it would have been if I hadn't messed up the batter. Trial one is a failure."

"What are you even trying to make?" Brandon's tone earned him a cool green-eyed stare then silence. He made a face and Kurama shot him another look.

"I'm beginning to understand some things about your relationship with Victoria." Kurama told him brusquely.

"You don't need to be here." Brandon shot back at him.

"And so it seems, neither do you."

"Ha." Victoria laughed from the kitchen entryway. Then tossed Kurama a winning smile. "What delicacy are you going to wow us with, Kurama?"

"Okonomiyaki." He answered her, distracted. "I messed it up. You can have this one."

"Thanks buddy."

"Attempting this with western ingredients is proving more difficult than I had originally thought." He pulled his mouth to one side, glaring at the pan he was using. "I'm glad I'm practicing."

"It still smells delicious." Mekenzi offered with a sweet smile and a quick fluttering of her lashes.

Hiei outright laughed from beside Victoria, pushing his way to the kitchen island, claiming one of the bar stools so that he was positioned across from Kurama. Kurama rolled his eyes at his friend's antics.

"I appreciate the sentiment. Hopefully you continue to feel that way as the night wears on because I fear I am far from done." He pursed his lips. He looked to his laptop and read through the recipe again, the screen full of characters that only Hiei could recognize. "The yams you have here seem to be entirely different than what I need. They are far too firm."

"Bastardize it." Victoria suggested.

"I don't even know how to begin doing that. Mother always used a traditional recipe." He frowned, turning toward her. "I wish there was a market where I could get the actual ingredients I need like actual katsuobushi, yamaimo."

Victoria began typing on her phone then sent him a link through text, which he studied with furrowed brow. "There. Bastardization. And in the meantime if we can find a store that sells what you're looking for, we'll pick it up. Until then work with what you have Mr. King-of-Improvisation. I trust in you."

"It took me three weeks to make sweet tea." He reminded her, as she'd reminded him.

"But it only took you one try to create a functioning sigil." She shrugged.

He smiled for her and nodded. "You're right. I'm short-changing myself. If anyone can make this dish, it's me." Then he stopped and turned back to face her. "Did I really apply it correctly the first time?"

"Like a natural." She nodded.

"So what's with the iron?" Brandon interrupted hotly. "Building a railroad?"

"Ah, come on Bray Bray. You should remember this." She jutted her bottom lip out in a fake pout. "I'm disappointed in you."

"I'm waiting." He stared dully.

"It's a ward. Iron is a powerful metal." Victoria waved her hand.

"Oh, you mean like, against fairies." Mekenzi nodded. "I've read about that."

"Sure. Like that." Victoria shifted her attention back to Brandon. "It's a precaution."

"Will it work? You said silver was meaningless. Why would iron be different?" Mark asked, genuinely curious. "Different culture? Or what?"

"Different creature." Victoria surmised instead. "Iron brings good luck. Particularly horseshoes. It's best if you don't buy them but as long as they're used, it'll work out. It can also deflect and protect against evil."

"Can we use it to drive this thing out?" Brandon questioned.

"I don't know. I don't think so. At this point I'm not convinced we can do anything about it at all." She toyed with the wood grain of the island, tracing it with her fingertips. "It doesn't make sense. All these behaviors with no obvious goal."

"Is the goal important?" Kurama asked.

"It is." She nodded. "The goal is what's keeping it here. If it's not the owners, not the house, then there has to be something else. And what about the plants?"

"The plants?" Brandon scrunched up his face. "What about them?"

"This being watered them. Those plants were healthy yesterday. We have video proof of it tending to them. And yet, now, they're nearly dead. Why? Why go through all the trouble of scratching up the walls and floors and watering plants? It hasn't scratched anyone. It just let the plants wither." She focused on the rings in the veneered wood.

"Maybe it just wanted attention." Brandon joked. "Like a kid throwing a tantrum or something."

Victoria stopped moving her hand.

She'd had a similar idea, hadn't she? That maybe this was all attention-seeking. She just didn't know to what end.

"Then what caused the tantrum and what is it trying to get out of it?" She spoke mostly to herself. "Once we can answer that question, I think I'll be able to do something more."

"We'll let the cameras run overnight." Mark told them all. "We can check them tomorrow."

Kurama, in his new apron he'd bought at a nearby superstore and with his hair pulled away from his face, peeled leaves from the washed cabbage, preparing them so he could cut through the thick vein running down the center before chopping the greens into half-inch pieces. His okonomiyaki had been steadily improving and he was certain that this test batch would be the best. He had a notebook full of notes on the alterations he'd made to the recipes he'd hobbled together. The slices of pork belly he'd procured were already in the skillet waiting to be topped with the fluffy mixture he was about to craft.

He placed a majority of the chopped cabbage atop the flour already prepared in a bowl on the counter, reserving the rest to use as a topping.

"You're getting faster." Hiei noted watching from the island.

"It's becoming habit." Kurama responded easily, smearing flour over his cheek as he used his forearm to wipe his face. "Practice makes perfect as they say."

Hiei made a noise of casual agreement, looking around the room with disinterest. How many more days of this were they going to have to endure? Couldn't they just go home already. Granted, the hotel room meant he had his own place to sleep. And the unit was full of cool air. Still, it didn't make up for the weird sludge-like feeling that coated his skin every time he entered this disgusting house. It clung to him. He detested it.

Perhaps this is what Kuwabara had always called the 'tickle-feeling'. That strange and aggressive sense of otherness.

He was not a fan.

Kurama ignored him diligently, grating fresh ginger into the bowl. He went about chopping the scallions next taking the time and putting in the effort to cut them in thin, even slices. He'd watched several videos on the proper way to use a knife in the kitchen. Next came the eggs, he cracked two into the bowl, added some sesame oil and went about vigorously stirring the mixture to incorporate some air so that the end result would be fluffy.

"What do you think she's doing?" Hiei asked, staring into the hall that joined the kitchen and living room.

There was nothing on the cameras the day after Victoria had made her proclamation of what they were facing. The overnight feeds were empty of activity. Another strange tally mark for her to account for.

"Maybe it gave up." Mark suggested with a shrug after the third day of inactivity as they changed the batteries in the cameras while Kurama and Hiei waited in the kitchen.

"No." She assured him quietly. "That's not it. That's not how it works."

"Maybe the iron worked then. Ever since you put it up there's been nothing." He pressed.

"Something isn't right about it." She paced through the living room again. It all looked the same. Again she took pictures so she could compare them to her last set and to the originals taken by the crew.

"Nothing is different Vick." Mark told her.

"I know."

She walked over to the window sill where one of the horseshoes leaned against the glass pane. The flowers had continued to wilt, their soil dried through. She took pity and picked up the full watering can, carefully tending to each pot. When she turned back around she tipped her head to the side.

"They must watch a lot of TV." She decided.

"What?"

She gestured to the couch which had two definite indents in the cushions where people had sat in the same spot for years. Rummaging through the pillows she produced the remote and turned the television on. "Let's see what they watch."

"Why?" he blinked.

"Because I'm nosy." She shrugged in response. Then she lowered the remote after accessing their DVR, her eyes moving toward the cameraman. "Kitchen. Now."

She ushered Mark into the kitchen, then opened the kitchen window to yell for Mekenzi and Brandon to join them. Hiei stared at her as though she'd lost her mind, Kurama grousing because this distraction might make him burn his food.

"I know what it wants." She explained to the room.

"What?" Mekenzi asked, attentive and wide eyed. "A sacrifice?"

"What? No. Well, I think no." Victoria shook her head. "It's us. It wanted us to be here."

"Us?" Brandon stared at her. "Why?"

"I don't know." She admitted. "Just. Come look at this."

She led them all back to the living room, where the TV remained on and displayed the DVR saves. It was filled with episodes of the show, including the one Victoria had last helped in. That was one was queued three times throughout the recordings. Kurama and Hiei studied the screen with high interest.

"So the owners are fans." Brandon shrugged. "That's why they called us."

"Look at the dates." She walked over to the screen and pointed. "Some of these saves happened after they left the house. In fact some of these happened while we were here."

The sound of clapping sounded from behind them, causing everyone to spin around.

Victoria pulled two of her mail-label sigils out of her pocket from a fresh batch she'd made that morning. Her finger slid along the edge and she hissed at the paper cut that formed before an idea clicked in her brain. She moved behind her two boys and peeled the backings off the white paper. Her hands pressed the sticker sigils against Hiei and Kurama in the places easier for her to reach. Kurama's adhered to his apron on his chest, Hiei's planting on his forehead. Her blood smeared over the paper, her eyes pinching closed as she willed the ruby liquid to deepen the charm. Protect them from all harm. Her fingers tingled where they pressed against the labels. Kurama gasped. Hiei's breath caught in his chest. When she released them it was only because she was sure that the work had been done.

The pressure of the house shifted, changing until it consolidated into a point just in front of them all. A form grew from nothing, taking shape and filling out before their eyes. And then there it stood. Brown curly hair fell into eyes whose shade seemed to shift inconsistently above a grin that spread uncomfortably far across the face, as though the cheeks had split in the birth of the expression. Dressed in cuffed jeans, in colorful sneakers, in a graphic t-shirt it regarded them all.

"Now we're getting somewhere." The voice was slick, but warm. Wet clay that promised to mold into whatever one could create.

"Do something!" Brandon hissed to Victoria, who stepped up from between Hiei and Kurama to stand in front.

"You can go." The trickster told him. "I don't need you anymore."

"This is my show!"

"Was. Now it's mine. Bye." It waved and Brandon barely got a chance to shout before he was yanked out the front door by an invisible force. "As the kids say, this bitch empty. Yeet."

Mark gripped his camera tightly, swiveling from watching Brandon get pulled out of the house back to the trickster, a look of fear and disbelief marring his features. "Did that demon just say yeet?"

"Not a demon." Kurama corrected quietly.

"I was wondering when we'd finally get to meet." It focused on Victoria. "I'm a big fan, really. Can I have your autograph?"

It produced a pen and paper out of nowhere and Victoria glanced down at the offerings before shaking her head slowly. "I'd rather not sign anything."

"Smarter than you look." It flashed it's teeth and then disappeared.

Victoria thought about it for a second then turned to the television screen to assess the episodes saved. Her eyes scanned through the titles as she walked away from the others.

"Shit." She uttered, annoyance entering her tone.

Victoria was not necessarily alarmed, just incredibly wary as the trickster popped back into existence beside her. She didn't turn to look at it, instead focusing on the reflection cast in the antique mirror on the far wall. It was inches away from her face, exposed teeth parting so that a warm breath could graze her cheek. She chose not to react, to keep staring forward.

It's eyes glinted and it turned it's head to look in the mirror too.

"Vick." Mark's voice shook as he spoke. "Vick, maybe we should go."

"No." She remained firm in her stance.

It disappeared again, enough to give her some space to move. Hiei and Kurama looked at one another and then Hiei shook his head at her. Brandon stood in the doorway, furious and dirty with a scrape on his head. He went to step into the house and the door slammed closed on him, despite him yelling obscenities from the other side.

"Do you still think my energy is a cesspit?" That voice spoke from behind Hiei as the trickster leaned over him, it's fingers grazing his collarbone until it found the chain of Victoria's necklace. "You and your little trinkets and ideas of protection."

Red eyes widened as his pupils shrank, an overwhelming rush of power colliding with Hiei's senses. He hadn't felt anything like it since being thrust into this plane. Nostrils flaring he fought with himself, lip pulling back to reveal his own teeth as he slowly moved his head to snarl at the creature. The necklace hit the floor, unclasped. Hiei spun, hand clawed and ready to strike. The trickster's eyes flashed brightly it's fingers going for Hiei's throat. And then is hissed, gone.

Hiei panted reaching over to back against Kurama's side, eyes darting around to pinpoint the next attack. The redhead lowered himself slightly, practiced stance coming to him easily as he began searching the room.

"Victoria." Kurama spoke her name like a command.

"It can't hurt you." She told them with all the certainty in the world.

The trickster's face hovered in front of her own, it's feet on the ceiling, looking her in the eyes. It's dark curls hung loose, it's clothes all obeying the laws of gravity that it chose to so blatantly disregard.

"Is this what that beast sees in you?" It asked, eying it's scalded hand. "Dorian is such a peculiar thing."

"Dorian?" Her eyes pinched for a second.

"Indeed."

"I don't think he sees anything but an annoyance in me." She shook her head carefully. "Perhaps a meal."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong. His kind does not hold a human so close for no reason." The trickster appeared on the couch, lounging as it regarded her, that ever present smile faded some as it tilted it's head. "Dorian is watching you. But why? What does he have on you that demands such attention? You don't look that interesting. Just a human, really. Maybe a little more powerful than the rest but in comparison, you're still just another mortal."

Victoria angled herself to stand between it and the others, chin tucked down just slightly. It tapped a finger against it's cheek.

"Or is it." A pause. "That you have something on him?"

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You think I have something on Dorian?"

"I saw your deal." It gestured to the television. "I love your work. It's so crass that it's charming. Sincerely, I am a fan."

"Thanks, it's nice to know I have a new demographic to reach." She squinted. "Why are you bringing up the deal?"

"Because something about it wasn't right. You were awfully strong for a moment. Stronger than you actually are." It assessed her. "Or, stronger than you were. You're stronger on your own now."

It's eyes flashed, that ever-shifting color fading to black for a moment before morphing into something else.

"You have something he wants. What could that be?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" She wondered. "Why did you pick these people?"

"Cannot. We run in different circles, if you catch my drift." It explained then grinned again, wide and empty. "I like their taste. They were an easy choice. They fit the image these hopeful fools love to portray on the show. Down to earth, but superstitious enough to see ghosts. A nice enough house to cause doubts. And they watched the show."

"Easy to manipulate." She nodded. "It worked. I'm here. Am I here because you want these questions answered? Or was there another reason?"

"I suppose I wanted to see you with my own eyes, away from certain possessive demons."

"You're scared of Dorian." She searched it's face, confused. "Why?"

"Not so much. Just intrigued by his actions. He's been spending an awful lot of time around you. Hovering. Watching. Waiting."

"That's is the worst thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you." She flattened her expression.

"You're welcome." It's eyes lit up. "What do you have on Dorian?"

"No idea."

"Hmm. I believe you. I think you don't know, which is all the more interesting. You hold a secret only Dorian can claim, that's unusual. He's protective of you, you know. He warns others to stay away. So I've heard. I'm an expert in not heeding such warnings though."

"That's the overbearing asshole in him coming out. I imagine he isn't too fond of sharing his meat." She explained.

"It's not that. It's something else."

"Please don't take this to a weird romantic place."

"No, no. Not even close. It's something deeper but it's not that. I'll figure it out."

"And when you do?"

"I'll use it." This time the smile vanished completely, leaving only the strangely elusive eyes and lips pressed together as it's lids narrowed. "Causing trouble is sort of what I do. Dorian just happens to be a new game for me to play. Lucky me that my favorite TV star gets to be a moving piece."

She shifted as it moved, her brows coming down. "How do you even know about me?"

"I watch the show. I have for a while. I was so sad when you left, you were the only good thing about it. Then they brought in that one to replace you as though she could live up to your legend." It's eyes strayed to Mekenzi who tensed. "I want them to bring you back."

"I don't want to come back. I have better things to do." Victoria shook her head.

"I can keep finding reasons for you to return." That smile shifted back to her. "Maybe we can talk again. I can bring my season one dvds and you can sign them for me."

"Was I even in season one?" She turned to look at Mark who opened his mouth then shrugged uselessly.

"You were. Episodes two, three, seven, and nine. Consultation work. Your hair was longer then. And you wore more black." It beamed and for the first time it's expression read as something less than menacing. "Season three is my favorite. They finally let you do something useful. It all went down hill after that. All because someone couldn't be trusted to keep himself in check. I could kill him for you if you wanted."

"I'd rather you didn't. I can't be implicated in anymore murder cases." Victoria made a face of distaste. "How have you been watching the show? For like, literally years."

"In my apartment." It appeared beside her so close she had to step back.

"You have an apartment." She deadpanned.

"Of course I do. What, did you think I spent all my time haunting middle aged white people?" It grinned and then it reached out and brushed it's fingers over her arm, letting out a giggle. "I can't believe I can touch you."

"Hey." She jerked back. "You can't just go around caressing people."

"Caressing." It nodded. "Most people are terrified when I touch them. But you called it caressing. You know what, I know I'm totally fanboying right now and that's probably a lot so why don't you take my card and if you ever find yourself in need of a malevolent entity you can call me and I'll do whatever you ask me to do, to whoever you want. No charge. No deals."

"I hope you don't think this is rude, but you do understand why I'm literally never going to take you up on that, right?" She winced but accepted the card it extended to her.

It laughed. "You're so careful. I love it. It won't save you but it'll help."

"That's a really alarming thing to say," she looked at the card then made of a sound of intrigue, "Francis."

"You said my name." He sighed wistfully. "The iron was a nice touch but for future consideration it won't work on me."

"Noted." She nodded. "This says you're an author."

"Romance novels. Yes. I'm very popular under my pseudonym."

"Nice to meet you Francis the Chaotic Trickster Romance Author, but now it's time for us to end this interaction so I can go home and so the owners can come back. So, how are we doing this?" She pocketed the card and he watched that and then lifted his attention back to her face. "I'm assuming I can't actually banish you in anyway that matters."

"You assume correctly." He spun around and tapped his chin then pointed at her. "I've always wanted to be apart of one of those really violent expulsions. You know. You're yelling. I'm yelling. I throw myself against the ceiling, yell something cryptic and then poof I'm gone."

"Can we do that?" Victoria turned to Mark who had been filming their entire interaction. She received a shallow nod. "We can do that."

"I am so excited!" He bounced on his toes with that horrible, face splitting grin. Then he looked passed her to Hiei and Kurama. "No hard feelings boys. I mean, watering down your batter was just child's play and honestly, I wasn't actually going to hurt you. Her sigils are so strong though. I had to test it."

"You were the one ruining my batter?" Kurama hissed. "Victoria!"

She sort of just made a gesture like 'what do you want me to do'? And he grumbled, pouting.

"You should make it in front of the crowd you're going to serve. That'll really add something special, don't you think? An extra flair." Francis the Trickster kissed his fingers like a chef. "Delicious."

"I'll take it into consideration. Why don't you get banished so we can go home?" Kurama huffed.

Hiei outright glared at him.

"You're right. What are we waiting for?" He wondered. Then turned to Mark. "As they say in Hollywood. Action."

"Is it always like that?" Kurama asked as Victoria drove them home, the cooler and bags piled into the bed of the truck. The sun was setting on the horizon and they still had a couple of hours to go.

Victoria's hair was still disheveled from her staged paranormal eviction. She had her rings on again but Hiei wore her necklace, playing with it mindlessly. The radio quietly sang country songs to them even though none of them were actually listening to it. After a minute she decided to answer.

"No, it's almost never like that." She told him. "I guess my life is just getting more interesting."

"I can't believe that sonuvabitch ruined my damn batter." Kurama complained hotly. "All that work."

"At least you know you can do it now. And he's right, making it fresh will be a crowd pleaser." She shrugged. "That counts for something, right?"

"No."

"Yeah, I didn't think so."