Finally, Jordan and Drake seemed to be turning the last page to their quest. They knew for certain that Jade was near to being in the time that they had just arrived, and strangely enough not because of Drake connecting with her thoughts, but rather because they had caught Damien telling Dane about it. They had no idea when she might come, but they had concluded that it was best to wait it out. They were watching Damien's every move and word from the shadows, waiting for him to give himself away to them.

Jordan handed Drake a glass of deep purple wine, "Here," he smiled with that unkind smile of his, bared teeth just showing, "this will probably be a long night."

Drake took the glass but didn't raise it to his lips as his eyes followed Damien across the polished marble ball floor, where he was dancing with Lyra. His eyes didn't seem as if they could leave her for even a second.

The music was moving around them and with them. It was all too obvious that Damien was oblivious to his apparent feelings for Lyra and he seemed slightly apprehensive because of it. However, her smiles led him on.

"You don't find it suspicious?" Malik growled to Dane from behind Jordan and Drake.

"No, father," Dane sighed as if they were having a familiar conversation.

"Alastair is trying to turn Damien against me - us with that girl," he growled, his eyes probably wandering over the floor with the two.

"Damien, doesn't know that he feels anything towards her," Dane spoke confidently, "you've made sure that he is oblivious to most of his feelings," he paused, "however, you are right to be worried because he will realize sooner or later."

"Later, I hope. Surely, you could talk some sense into him before that happens though," Malik snapped.

"I will not interfere," Dane put down his foot.

"That may come back to bite you in the heel my son," Malik muttered.

"Dance with me Dane," Petra's voice resounded randomly with its usual sweet charm.

"All right," he sighed and the two moved past Drake and Jordan towards the dance floor. Only a small grumble escaped Malik's tightly closed lips.

"Shouldn't we be looking for Jade?" Drake growled at Jordan.

"Not at all," Jordan tilted his glass down slightly from his parted lips so that he could speak with the rim of the glass resting in his mouth. He smiled cockily, "Where on earth would we even begin?"

Drake returned the smile with burning anger, "You're right."

"Don't become angry with me," Jordan shook his head, tilting the glass back and swallowing the rest of its contents in one gulp. "After all, I'm just here to help you."

"Yes, of course," Drake sighed, "but this is taking forever."

"All good things in time, Drake," Jordan laughed. Drake bit his lip furiously, realizing how drunk Jordan was.

"Besides, from what we heard, Damien has only seen Jade, so she isn't exactly stuck here yet," he smiled, "we are very close though. I suppose."

Jordan giggled, "That's the spirit!"

Drake nodded frustratedly. He hoped that Jordan's head wasn't so high in the air that he would give them away.

"Oh, well here we go," Jordan laughed obnoxiously, pointing with a clumsy hand to the center of the dance floor. Drake turned his eyes, biting his lip at the scene in front of him. Damien had leaned forwards and was now gently kissing Lyra, one hand on her waist and the other just touching her chin. A single tear was slowly drawing a line down his cheek. Drake released his lip from his teeth.

"Is he crying?" Drake almost barked.

Jordan smiled and began to laugh, almost loosing his balance and falling over, "He's just given himself away. The one thing that he'd said he'd never do in a million years."

Drake crossed his arms around his chest watching. Damien had hardly pulled away when Malik grabbed him by the arm, pulling him even further from Lyra. Damien glared up at Malik furiously, while Malik began to berate him. Drake could hear it from where he stood.

"You will not undermine me," Malik hissed and when Damien rolled his eyes, he lunged forwards, grabbing his arm tightly and pulled him closer, "do you hear me Damien?"

Damien squinted his eyes at his father and opened his mouth as if to yell at him, but it was Dane's voice that filled his open mouth. "Father, please, you-"

"What is going on here?" Alastair grumbled, having walked up to the trio with crossed arms. Dane flashed his eyes irritatedly at the time traveler.

"Nothing," Dane grabbed Malik's arm and tried to pull him away.

"I wish," Malik jerked his arm back to his own side and turned back to Alastair, "you would not use that girl of your's to turn Damien against his own family."

"Turn him against you?" Alastair repeated him slowly, very coldly and with raised eyebrows. "I don't want him so much as looking at my daughter yet alone kissing her-"

"I-" Damien began angrily, trying to step into the conversation swirling around and about him.

"She's far too young for you," Alastair snapped at him, "I don't want you using her like you do everyone else, Damien. You cannot have her. I will protect her from you until the bitter end."

"Protect-" Damien tried once more, sounding concerned.

"Then we are on the same page," Malik grinned.

"Not quite," Alastair snapped, looking down at Malik as if he were a stain on the rug, "you have no right to tell me how to deal with Damien in my own house. If I decide that it is fine for Damien to pursue my daughter then so be it and you will not stand in the way because you hardly exist to me."

Malik pursed his lips, grinding his teeth persistently beneath them. Finally speaking, "I wouldn't cross me if I were you-"

Alastair laughed at that, "What will you do? Curse at me? Throw some trash my way?"

"Quit it!" Damien snapped all of a sudden, "I know," he paused, "I know what he is and I don't care for him anymore than you do, but just because you are more rich and have more power does not mean that-"

"That I am superior to him?" Alastair questioned him, answering, "Of course it does. Look at yourself. How much you have improved given some time away from him and the filth he lives in," he paused to smile, "or isn't that what you wanted me to believe?"

Damien frowned, realizing what Alastair was getting at. "Obeying someone when you have more power and berating them are two different things, completely."

"Hmm," Alastair smiled, "I don't see that. Forgive me," he turned to Malik, "I've interrupted your conversation with your son, please don't let me intervene my good sir."

He then took his leave, giving Damien one last gentle smile as if mocking him while he left him to Malik's torture. Damien merely shook his head. Alastair had only intervened to simply price a point? He wasn't going to fight for or against Damien?

"Strange guy," Malik muttered with a raised eyebrow, "but any ways, I just want you to stay clear of that girl, all right? Or you'll force me to end it myself."

Damien smiled at him almost in a pitying way, "What are you so afraid of father?"

Immediately Malik's face brightened with tomato like redness. Drake could just imagine steam blowing out of his ears. He lunged out once more, grabbing Damien's other arm, squeezing tightly. Damien let out a soft hiss, bending his arm at the elbow trying to relieve the pressure. When Malik finally let go to snap, "You will obey me," Drake could see where blood was beginning to seep through Damien's white sleeves on his forearm, no doubt from where Malik had previously 'punished' him.

Damien nodded quickly, shielding his arm from Malik with his other. Drake had never seen Damien's face contorted with fear. It made him seem far less revolting somehow.

"Speak, boy for God's sake!" Malik snapped.

"Yes!" Damien sputtered, "yes father," he paused to regain himself, "but about Lyra-"

Malik threw on a wicked smile, "I hope that I won't have to make it any clearer to you that you are mine. You are my property since I procreated you. You are no more than my slave. Get it?"

Damien sighed, "Yes."

"Enough," growled a boy not much older than Damien, who had walked up to the two. He wore a pair of golden rimmed glasses over his bright blue eyes.

Drake glanced at Jordan, "Know who he is?"

He only received a well expected laugh and with an irritated nod, shifted his attention back onto Damien.

"E-Emerson," Malik sputtered, his eyes darting to the tall boy. Drake frowned. Where had he heard that name before or rather when?

"You've given him enough grief, sir," Emerson remarked politely without even looking up at Malik, but rather spending the time to examine his fingernails. There was a book beneath his other arm. He threw on a smile, which changed his entire demeanor, from dead serious to cheerful as his eyes lifted up, "Come on, it's a party. We should be enjoying ourselves! Here," he held out a drink with the hand he'd previously been examining.

Malik took the glass slowly and without giving Damien a second glance or thought, turned to leave.

Emerson laughed casually as he watched Malik walk off, confused. "He really isn't too bright is he?"

"I appreciate the thought," Damien muttered in a low voice, "but I don't need your chivalry."

Emerson put two fingers to his glasses to slide them back up the bridge of his nose. "And I will try to respect that, but how can I help myself when you and your miserable father are completely destroying this party? You do realize that this is a political event, right? As in I have certain goals for tonight and you, my dear friend were interfering."

"Hmm," Damien smiled angrily, "my bad."

"I'll let it slide," Emerson replied coldly, "just keep your stained hands away from my sister."

Damien smiled cockily, "Or what?"

Emerson who had turned his back on Damien to leave, stopped dead in his tracks, tilting his head back. "Or what?" He managed to repeat Damien in his terrible shock.

"Yes, or what?" Damien laughed. "You have known me long enough to realize that I won't simply lie down to be the rug beneath your feet."

With one swift movement, Emerson took a step closer to Damien to loom over him, "I believe that I miscalculated your intentions tonight," he laughed at himself, "you, my friend, are here to start fights, with your father, with Alastair . . . with me. Quit it."

Damien laughed along, letting his lips curl into a furious snarl. His hands were in two tight fists. It wasn't hard to predict what would happen next. Drake waited apprehensively for the hotheaded Damien to swing one closed fist at Emerson, when suddenly from behind him Dane grabbed the arm, holding him back. Drake bit on his lip, again the Damien he knew would have kept his calm. Only when Damien was worn too thin to control his temper or was faced with something that no one even he couldn't react in any other way than anger, would he let his blood boil.

"Damien," he said softly so that Drake had to strain his ears just to make out his voice from the crowd's. "You're bleeding badly. Come with me and we'll bandage you up."

Emerson raised his eyebrows and glanced down at Damien's bloody forearm and then below it to the ground where a small pool of it lay. He frowned letting his eyes drift into the crowd to Malik. He sighed, "Here, I'll-"

"You've done more than enough," Dane snapped at him, "just go and finish your business. He's my brother and I will take responsibility for him. Just stay the hell away from us for the rest of the night."

Emerson scowled, "Yes of course, my friend, but do keep your pet monster away from my darling sister or you'll have me to deal with." With that said he left.

"You really are terrible at making friends," Dane sighed as he led Damien away.

"That may be so, brother," Damien smiled guilefully, "but we'll see."