He was overpowered. The thing was plummeting down on him from the despondent sky, dark clouds moving faster and faster, but not nearly as fast as the Raum demon. Its long, dark body was crouched and ready to pounce, billowing through the air, like a large soft ball, making loud, hissing sounds, its teeth snarled in its dark, circular mouth, eyes narrowed and sinister.

They travelled in packs, Kurt knew that. He cursed under his breath as he reached to his waist and pulled the seraph blade out of its holster. He raised his arm, the thing coming closer and named the blade.

"Barakiel!"

The blade sprang to life, lighting up and glowing in his hand. He clenched his teeth, ready for the collision, for the creature to lunge at him, for the tentacles and the serrated teeth. He'd done this a thousand times before, he just wished it hadn't been a Raum. Raums were just so messy and Kurt was not dressed for this type of dirty work. He made a mental note to never wear his best boots in this God forsaken place again, before twisting the seraph blade across the demon's tentacles.

Three of them hit the ground, black blood spraying every where, a penetrating sound escaping its lipless mouth.

"By the Angel," Kurt breathed, the blood had left large, black spots on his pants and was spreading like spilled ink.

He threw himself side ways, landing painfully, his elbows skidding through the grass. He dodged the grey-white, slender body, as it swung its remaining tentacles in his direction. It missed, its body spinning, more blood seeping out of the little red hallows on its skin, sounds like a roaring panther echoing through the air. Kurt took this as an opportunity to poke the blade through. He stabbed the demon through its centre, sending loud yelps out of its wide mouth. Kurt twisted his arm, slicing the demon from its mid-section all the way out and then back the opposite way, the top half falling away from the bottom half, blood splaying every where.

Kurt groaned, looking down at his attire, now soaked through, dark smears covering every cuff, every hem, every damned inch of his favourite boots. Why in the world had he worn a white shirt? He reached into his belt again shaking his head, not believing this was happening. He pulled his stele out this time and used his teeth to tug his sleeve up his arm, careful not to touch the fast drying blood covering his clothes.

Kurt hated this stupid place. He wished he was back in Idris, where it was protected by wards, keeping the demons out. He'd gone outside Idris every now and then, it had been part of his training as a Shadowhunter, to hunt demons, rid them from the world and send them back to whatever hell-hole they'd originated from, but every time he left home here, it seemed he came face to face with some red-eyed, sharp-teethed, scaly, disgusting creature, catching him unawares. Who knew Ohio was so flush with so many of those filthy things?

When he finally had his sleeve all the way up, he pressed the cool stele to his clammy skin, beginning to trace an Iratze healing rune across his arm, face twisted into a grimace, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Watch out!"

He spun around, dropping the stele, then felt a dead weight fall on his body, tentacles sliding around his arms, the razor sharp teeth piercing through his skin, his body twisting at the sudden pain, sending tremors up and down his arms. He tried to slide his arm lower, to try and grab the seraph blade now back in his belt, but it was too difficult, the demon's hold on him too strong. He struggled and thrashed and cried out, but it was no use. This was it, he was done for.

He felt the energy slowly fading out of his body, feeling nauseous, his head spinning. The pain was almost too much. He was slipping away, he could feel it, his power depleting, rapidly. He was about to give in, allow the slumber to consume him, when he felt the grip loosen on his arms, the blood beginning to flow back up through his veins. He turned, lethargically, still dizzy from the heavy blow. He looked around, just as one of the creature's slimy tentacles plummeted through the air and landed in a sticky, dark puddle on the ground beside him.

He felt his heart beat speeding up, wondering just what had killed a Raum right in front of him and if he should fight whatever it was or run away while it was distracted. He raised his eyes, searching out what had to be a Greater demon, to have taken a Raum clean out like that, but when he looked up, his eyes didn't find scales, or claws, or four sets of eyes. Instead, standing there in a bright sheen of illuminating light, was a human boy, a Shadowhunter boy.

Kurt sat there, in the dirt, awestruck, eyes wide as saucers and stared at the boy in front of him. He watched as he lowered the blade, light slowly spilling down off of his face and placed it back at his waist, the light disappearing. Kurt felt dizzy. He hadn't been attacked like this in a long, long time and he couldn't remember a time he had been this injured. Well, it was entirely possible that he had been injured like this before, but he couldn't quite remember, not right now, when he felt so weak, a dull pain in his legs, his arms burning violently.

"Don't close your eyes," the boy said, falling to his knees beside Kurt, who had somehow ended up flat on his black. "Concentrate on something, just don't close your eyes."

Kurt looked up at the boy's face, through half-lidded eyes, the world blurring around the edges. He knew the poison was seeping through his veins, he could feel it, almost like the blood inside his arms was bruising beneath his skin. Concentrate on something? Concentrate on what? he thought, watching as the boy produced a stele. He shivered as the boy began rolling his sleeve up again, which had somehow rolled down during the shuffle with the Raum.

He had exceptionally thick eyelashes, this boy. They stood out in a canopy above his hazel eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, as he concentrated, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. Kurt kept his gaze locked on the boy's long lashes, as he felt his fingertips on his skin. Then came the cool touch of the stele, followed by the familiar burn, the boy delineating an Iratze on Kurt's dead arm. He flinched until the burning sensation frittered away and the relief set in, the pain bleeding out of his body, his strength returning in large amounts.

Kurt sat up, as the boy leaned back, pushing the stele back inside his belt. He kept his eyes on the boy's lashes, as he shook his arm, now completely healed, only looking away when the boy's eyes met his.

"Um," Kurt said, abruptly, lowering his eyes to his arm, still bending it, experimentally, even though he knew good and well that it was now perfectly fine. "Thanks," he finished, quietly.

The boy stood up and brushed dirt off his thighs, so Kurt stood up, too.

"No sweat," the boy said, then looked up, eyes meeting Kurt's. "I'm Blaine."

He held out a hand, which Kurt took, carefully, his hand cool against Kurt's sweating one.

"Kurt," Kurt told him, shaking his hand, firmly.

Blaine's lips twisted upwards, forming a smile and Kurt couldn't help smiling back, Blaine's eyes, the colour of tiger stripes, on Kurt's blue-green ones. Blaine's hand fell out of Kurt's then and Kurt allowed his arms to drop to his sides. He remembered then, that he must look like crap, covered in black ichor, grass stains on his shirt, mud stains on his pants, his boots fit for the trash.

He looked up at Blaine, who was dressed entirely in black. His long-sleeved shirt was cotton and tightly fitted. Black swirls peeked out of the collar, shining and prominent against his sallow skin. He was wearing dark, Shadowhunter boots, his pants tucked neatly inside the tops. His pants were leather and also very well-fitted, outlining all the right areas very nicely. Kurt swallowed hard, averting his eyes from those areas, not wanting Blaine to catch him gaping.

"So," Blaine said, now holding a Sensor. He was moving it through the air, watching it, ensuring it did not vibrate, a sign that there were no more demons in the vicinity. It didn't budge. "I've never seen another Shadowhunter around here, much less one even close to my age. At least," Blaine paused, pushing the Sensor back inside his pocket. He raised his eyes back to Kurt's, a small smile playing on his pink lips. "Not one stupid enough to turn his back, having just killed a Raum. Don't you know they travel in packs?"