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My name is Helena Bertinelli. My father was Frank Bertinelli, head of the Bertinelli vampire clan. He had an iron grip on the supernatural underworld of Star City - until out of fear that my human fiance would take me away from him and the family business and put a hit on my lover’s head.
Michael was the one good and decent thing in a life full of corruption and power through fear. Finding him in our home with his throat torn open, the life gone from his blue eyes, nearly destroyed me. But instead, I put that rage to good use.
I hunted down the hitman who killed my lover.
I took down my father’s top enforcers, one by one - until only my father was left.
And then I killed him, too.
With the Bertinelli clan in shatters, there was now a mad dash to fill that void of power in the Star City underworld. And whatever peace I had hoped killing my father and his acolytes would bring me wasn’t to be found. With the new chaos among Star City’s supernatural covens bleeding out to impact the lives of its human civilians more than ever, I knew I had to make things right.
So I work in the shadows to undo the wrongs my family has done and to keep the city’s monsters in line. I am no longer Helena Bertinelli, vampire princess of Star City’s underworld.
I have become The Huntress.
-
If Helena had to be completely honest, the whole researching and scouting part of her work was her least favorite part of her self appointed job. Chasing, fighting, intimidating, killing - all that she was good at, she enjoyed. Thrived on it. The daily mundane tasks of ensuring she was going after the right people, knew any and every detail to ensure her missions were a success, that sort of thing?
Not her style.
Patience had never been one of her virtues. Michael had teased her for it plenty of times - but unlike her father, he considered it a severe character flaw, Michael had found her impatience amusing and adorable most of the time and was happy to be the patient one in the relationship.
Helena missed that. Missed having someone who loved her despite - or even for - her flaws. Missed hearing Michael’s laugh or watching his brow furrow in concern over an upsetting story on the news or listening to him ramble about the book he was currently reading or venting about something frustrating at work that he was having to deal with.
She missed him.
For a long time she thought she was destined to be alone after Michael was taken from her. After taking out all the people that insisted they were family, they were the ones she needed, but did all they could to isolate her.
That was until one Felicity Smoak came into her life. Or - more appropriately - until she saved Felicity’s life from gluttonous incubus taking advantage of the tech girl’s inebriated horniness. Despite the haze of the incubus’ pheromones and all the alcohol she had consumed, Felicity ended up remembering a lot about that night, and being good with computers and faces, traced the trail back to Helena.
And despite Helena’s initial annoyance at a human figuring out she was the Huntress, it was kind of nice having someone in on her secret life. The fact that Felicity loved challenges, research, and a lot of the other aspects of the job that Helena found inanely boring? Well, that was a bonus.
“Got a theory on who Merlyn contacted the scary shadow demon assassins over. And it’s not based on any research yet, more just blind luck that I paid attention to the gossip mags while waiting to check out at Walmart,” Felicity rambled upon entering the clocktower headquarters. She held up one of said gossip magazines mere inches from Helena’s face as she sipped reheated blood from her ‘#1 Boss’ mug.
Courtesy of Felicity, of course. She’d thought it was hilarious.
Helena pretended she hated it for a week.
‘Merlyn heir disowned for dating CNRI’s top lawyer.’
Beneath the headline was a photo of one Tommy Merlyn - son of a wealthy businessman with more skeletons in his closet than most supernatural monsters - walking down the street with a woman of similar age. One Dinah Laurel Lance, a woman Helena had crossed paths with as herself and The Huntress. Not only a lawyer with a reputation for going after the corrupt - both human or otherwise - but also the daughter of one of Star City’s top detectives.
Definitely not someone Malcolm Merlyn would want his son getting close to.
Helena grabbed the magazine from Felicity, studying the picture closely. “For once, these things might actually be helpful.”
“Right?” Felicity replied, passing by to grab a water bottle from the fridge before heading over to her computer station. “That’s what I thought. Still embarrassing to buy one of those things, though. You owe me.”
“Hhm,” was Helena’s only - and very noncommittal - reply.
“Of course, Boss, going to put actual work into proving my hypothesis right, Boss.” Felicity threw in a mock salute for extra, melodramatic affect. “But if Tommy M is getting chummy with Lawyer Lance - and I mean, who’d blame him? She’s gorgeous - then Malcolm M, I mean if he’s told Tommy anything about what he’s up to, or hell, maybe he’s just worried she’s using his son or taking him away, and he’s definitely the type to pull a...well, I mean, you know. You would know,” she trailed off, voice dipping down to an awkward whisper when she realized what she was implying and to whom.
Helena swallowed, gaze zeroing in on the picture - on Laurel. “You’re right. I would know.”
-
The League of Shadows was an organization only the wealthiest and cruelest contacted for assassinations. Its members had all once been human, but for whatever reasons - revenge, hate, a need for power or just a desire to kill so strong it was undeniable - they had pledged themselves to the Demon’s Head and let his essence corrupt them. No longer human, they existed in the shadow plane.
Untraceable, unkillable, once they took a contract they did not stop until it was fulfilled.
Not even her father had sunk to the level of using them. But Malcolm Merlyn had. Which meant whatever he was planning - it was something huge. Something that Helena had to ensure never came to fruition.
But saving Laurel Lance came first - which meant Helena had to figure out how to kill a shadow.
“I don’t get it. Normally you want to just go straight for the Big Bad and hope there aren’t any - or at least not many - casualties on the way. Why the sudden focus shift to Lance? Not that I’ve got a problem with it. Being an almost casualty myself I actually dig the change in priorities,” Felicity rambled through Helena’s earpiece. “...is it because of what I said earlier? I’m really sorry about that, by the way. Sometimes my mouth runs way ahead of my brain and I wind up saying things that are a little insensitive.”
Helena sighed. “No, it’s not.”
“Okay, good. ...are you sure?”
“...Maybe a little. But it’s not just that, so don’t beat yourself up over it. Truth is, I know Laurel. Not well, but we’ve crossed paths - as Helena and as Huntress. She's a good person, fighting for real change, for people who genuinely need it. I don’t want to see the same thing that happened to Michael happen to her.”
“So it is because of what I said.”
“I already felt this way before your mouth ran away from your brain, Felicity.”
“Okay. Well, I’ve confirmed that Merlyn did contact the League after it became public knowledge that his son and Laurel were dating, which was only a day before you ran into the scout. So if the League’s reputation of taking care of contracts in a week or less holds true, you’ve got two days to stop the shadow assassin from making an example of Laurel. Which, normally I’d say ha, as if you needed two days, but these guys…”
Helena snorted. She could practically hear Felicity shuddering in her chair. “You get the heebie jeebies too easily for this line of work, Smoak.”
“Yeah, yeah. So far I haven’t found much on the League, beyond reputation and conspiracy theories from wackjobs on 4chan. But, if you killed Malcolm, wouldn’t that make the contract null and void?”
“Unfortunately not.” Helena shifted on her perch on the roof across from Laurel’s apartment, watching as Tommy Merlyn left the building. Her gaze flickered back to Laurel’s window, the kitchen light turned on as the other woman moved around, fixing tea apparently. “Once the League has taken a contract, nothing stops them from seeing it through. The only way to stop a Shadow is to kill them or for Ra’s al Ghul himself to break the contract. It’s why my father never committed to hiring them. Not that he ever regretted a hit he ordered.” The familiar bitterness that always accompanied the memory of her father crept into Helena’s voice as she spoke. “But he hated the idea that he wasn’t in control of a contract.”
“Yikes. So, this is really, really bad.”
“You could say that.”
“Then what’s the plan?”
“Kill the unkillable.”
“Oh. Obviously. Why didn’t I think of that? Duh, Felicity.”
“I’m turning this off if you’re going to keep being sarcastic,” Helena snapped - though she knew it wasn’t fair. Her tech girl was raising a damn good point. Helena was talking about something that, if it had ever been done, Ra’s al Ghul had done a thorough job of erasing that fact. But then again, the Ra’s and the League were known only to those closest to the seedy underbelly of the supernatural world. Even then they were still shrouded in mystery - would it really be that hard to hide a part of their history they didn’t want anyone to know? “Sorry. This hits a little close to home.”
“No, you’re right. Wasn’t being very helpful. But - where do we start?”
Time to bite the bullet. Felicity wasn’t going to like this.
“You start by initiating the panic switch and fortifying the clocktower.”
“...Helena, that will cut me off from you.”
The concern in Felicity’s voice affected Helena more than she was comfortable with. They worked together, because they believed in Helena’s mission. That was it. They weren’t friends or partners. Or at least, that was how Helena had tried to keep things. But she was lonelier than she would ever admit out loud. Which is why, “I need you to be safe, Felicity. And until this League threat is neutralized, you’re in danger. They don’t like being interfered with, and I can’t take the chance they’d go after you to stop me. Laurel can’t afford that risk.”
The other end of the line was quiet for several seconds. For once, Felicity kept her mouth in check with her brain, but Helena knew that she was thinking over all the different arguments she wanted to be saying right now. None of them could be justified though, they both knew it. “Okay,” she finally replied. “Initiation panic room defenses now. Helena...be careful.”
Helena swallowed, watching through Laurel’s kitchen window as she headed towards her living room, flipping the light switch off on the way. “I will.” She turned her comm off.
-
The option of going to Laurel’s apartment and telling her what was going on was the best one for Laurel’s chances of survival. Waiting until Tommy was long gone and Helena was certain Felicity was taking the proper measures to protect herself was as much time as Helena could risk taking. Waiting until the assassin was there and gave away the fact put the odds even more severely in their favor.
Certain the coast was clear, Helena lept from her perch across the street over to the roof of Laurel’s building. Within seconds she was creeping silently down the fire escape. Once at Laurel’s floor, slipping in was easy - the invitation myth might have been simply that, but turning into a fog was fortunately not.
Helena solidified once she had traveled through the ventilation into Laurel’s apartment, standing in the darkened kitchen.
The television was on in the living room still, but footsteps to her left let Helena know Laurel had gone back to the bedroom or bathroom. Moving quickly but quietly, Helena waited outside the bedroom door until Laurel emerged from the doorway. Helena’s left hand covered Laurel’s mouth as her right arm pulled her in close. “Don’t panic. I’m here to help you. Malcolm Merlyn has hired the League of Shadows to kill you, and we do not have much time, so I need you to not scream or fight me, all right?”
Laurel was tense in her arms, breathing harshly through her nose - Helena could even see the whites of her eyes - but slowly she nodded.
“Okay. Good.” Helena slowly released her hold on Laurel, letting the other woman pull away and turn to face her. “I’m sorry for scaring you, but I had to make sure I got to you first. I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe, okay?”
“Why?” Laurel asked, looking her over. She was clearly rattled, but the few times she had been around The Huntress before, it had always been to offer or ask for help. “What the hell is the League of Shadows, anyway?”
“Unfortunately, the best in the business when it comes to hired killers.” Helena pulled Laurel further into the hall, out of sight from any outside vantage point. “As for why - you’ve helped me before. And I’ve helped you. Isn’t that answer enough?”
Laurel studied her in the dim light of the hallway, illuminated solely by the shifting light of the TV. “No. It isn’t. The people you’ve helped whenever we work together, you’re always after something. There’s a reason. I want to know the reason for me. Why not just go after Merlyn? I know he’s got to be on your agenda.”
“How would you know that? Tommy tell you what his dad is up to?”
“No,” Laurel shook her head, arms folding over her chest. It was a protective move. Her gaze kept flickering towards each end of the hallway. “But he knows his father is up to something. That’s...that’s why we’ve been seen together. We aren’t dating. Not anymore. But we’re still close, and Tommy - he’s certain Malcolm is planning something, something that could be dangerous to a lot of people, and he wanted my help.”
Helena tried to ignore the way her chest fluttered at the revelation that Laurel and Tommy weren’t an item. That wasn’t why she was here. She told herself that wasn’t something she even cared about. “I’d say Tommy is onto something - Malcolm has to be up to something big if he’s hired the League to take you out of the picture.”
The hair on the back of Helena’s neck raised. The feeling of being watched - hunted - was suddenly overwhelming. She reached over, flipping the switch to the hallway light. “Laurel, I need you to be quiet and do exactly as I say.” Helena looked to each end of the hall, eyes moving to each space where shadows collected.
The darkness in the kitchen doorway seemed to come alive without warning, spreading into the hall, the bulb in the overhead light shattering as if overheated from an electrical surge.
Helena yanked Laurel back to her with one arm and moved in front to shield her. Her free hand grabbed the crossbow hidden by her coat, rising and firing at the gust of air coming towards them. The darkness dissipated like fog, letting the shifting like of the television break through for a moment before it solidified and took form.
The assassin held her arrow in one hand, thumb pushing at the middle till it snapped in two.
Behind her, Laurel whispered, “Shit.”
Helena couldn’t have agreed more.
“Come and get her,” Helena snarled, pulling a second crossbow out and firing both at the assassin, anything to keep him focused on her and not Laurel. She could still hear Felicity asking her what that plan was - but that was the thing. She didn’t have one. She had no idea where to start when it came to killing a Shadow. All she knew was that she had to keep Laurel safe and alive, by any means necessary.
The assassin was relentless and strong , stronger than anything Helena had crossed paths with before. Every hit she landed seemed to have no more effect than the touch of a feather, while every strike the assassin dealt her nearly knocked the wind from her lungs.
They were backing her into the other end, trying to herd her to the corner of the hall and Laurel towards the bedroom door - trying to position them the Shadow could move between the two of them. The worst part was that it was working, and Helena could not manage to counter or throw the Shadow off course.
And that was when she felt it - smooth, cold silver, slicing through her outfit, her skin, her flesh. Helena looked down where the thin blade had pierced the lower left side of her abdomen, the cool metal burning her blood, poisoning it every second the assassin held the knife inside her. Dazed, Helena could only feebly try to push the Shadow away from her or pull at the hand holding the weapon.
Silver itself wasn’t fatal to her kind, merely rendered vampires weak, sick, nearly paralyzed that it was considered a death sentence.
Helena glanced over at Laurel, trying desperately to make her mouth form the words to tell Laurel to run, go out through the window, call her father - anything except stand there, staring at what was happening in horror, more vulnerable every second that ticked by. Instead, all she could do was watch, helpless, as the assassin held the blade in place and turned, its other hand grabbing another weapon from the darkness of its robes.
Fear, confusion, anger all flashed across Laurel’s face as her gaze shifted from the blade buried in Helena’s abdomen to the Shadow - and then there was only focused rage as Laurel’s whole body tensed, bracing itself for something, her mouth opening wide to scream.
The shriek that tore itself from Laurel’s throat was inhuman - piercing and shrill, a death wail that shook the entire apartment, that seemed to dissolve the Shadow back into smoke and fog. It was unlike anything Helena had ever heard and the only thing she could make out, her ears ringing with pain from the sound.
The hand holding the dagger was gone - and so was the force holding Helena upright. She collapsed to the ground, gasping in pain as Laurel’s scream faded into an echo that was nearly a physical presence in the hallway, the walls still trembling from its force.
Vaguely, Helena realized Laurel was crouched at her side, pulling the blade from her and pressing a hand firmly to the wound, asking Helena if she could hear, if she was still there, asking - pleading? - with her not to fade out. Despite the weakness and pain coursing its way through Helena’s veins, she smiled wryly at Laurel. “I didn’t think you cared.”
Laurel gave her a look that Helena could only describe as a mix of frustration and relief. “You asshole,” she sighed, hooking an arm around Helena and lifting her to lead her into the bedroom.
“Laurel - the assassin -”
“Will get another earful if he comes back.” Laurel was carefully but quickly moving her clothing to see the wound.
“...you know, if you’d wanted to see me naked you could have just asked.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Helena teased, almost laughing. Most of the pain had receded - leaving behind the weak, near intoxicated feeling. “One question though. What...what just happened? What did you do?”
Laurel paused for a moment, glancing from the wound to Helena’s face. Did she know who the Huntress was? Laurel Lance and Helena Bertinelli weren’t friends, but they’d met a few times. Laurel had been there when Helena had come by to make a large donation to the law firm she worked at. Helena had been to any court proceedings that were connected to her father’s clan in any way, and Laurel had represented clients her father’s criminal enterprise had hurt. Was that why she was helping? Or was it just because she owed Huntress a favor?
Why did any of that matter? Why was that all Helena could think about, even more than the question she’d just asked?
“My mother was a banshee.”
Oh. Well, that explained that.
“Why are you so worried about me?”
Laurel smirked - but even her smirk was gentle and warm. “I’ve helped you, and you’ve helped me. Isn’t that enough?”
Helena groaned, eyes closing. She wished it was solely her annoyance at having her words thrown back at her, but the hunger for clean blood to flush out the silver-poisoned blood infecting her body was starting to become strong enough to take the place of the faded pain from the wound itself.
“Here,” Laurel said, voice soft, and grabbed one of the arrows from Helena’s quiver. The soft sound of flesh being sliced was instantly accompanied by the sweet, coppery smell of warm blood. A wrist pressed to Helena’s mouth, Laurel’s other hand gingerly cupping her head and lifting to help her better drink.
And oh, what a delicious drink it was. Helena could taste the sidhe in Laurel’s blood - that was intoxicating, almost more deadly than the silver because it was a sweet and addictive drug, one that vampires were known to go mad in their cravings for once they’d had a taste of it. Helena suddenly understood why, why vampires would literally walk into direct sunlight if they thought it meant satisfying the craving. Before Helena even realized she could move again she was clutching that arm to her, hands gripping like a vice and fangs piercing into the skin so she was latched to Laurel’s wrist.
“Shit, Helena, you need to stop,” Laurel whispered, pushing at her.
So Laurel knew. Helena almost reacted to that but, no, just a few more sips, just a few gulps more, she just wanted - no, she needed more.
“Helena, stop!”
Somehow the command got through to Helena. Maybe it was the edge of panic in Laurel’s voice, maybe it was the clarity of the silver fully purged from her system, Helena wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it was a struggle to pull her mouth from Laurel’s wrist and let the other woman pull away. Helena laid there, panting and hazy, her vision seeming to glow, her whole body vibrating with life.
Nothing had ever tasted as good as Laurel.
Nothing had ever so quickly filled her with shame, either.
“I - I’m sorry. Your blood - fae blood, it’s…”
Laurel shook her head even as she swayed, eyes closed as if she had to concentrate on speaking and keeping upright.. “No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. I should have thought it through. I’ve heard that fae blood can be like a drug for other supernaturals. Don’t worry about it, you stopped.” The pale sheen of her skin indicated Helena had not stopped soon enough though.
Damn it. Helena was supposed to keep Laurel safe - not get saved by her instead only to nearly do the job for the Shadows herself. “You should...you should call Tommy. If he’s with you, you should be safer. I’m not sure if you killed the assassin or if he’s just regrouping, but there will be more to come. I’m sure Malcolm put in that he didn’t want anything to happen to his son so with Tommy is where you need to -”
A finger pressed to Helena’s lips. Laurel still looked as though she had to concentrate on what she was doing, but her skin seemed a little more flush, her hands less shaky. “I am exactly where I need to be. You were injured, you went a little overboard. I’m fine.”
Helena swallowed. She was staring, dumbly, words not forthcoming as she took in the sight of Laurel, color returning to her cheeks and clarity to her gaze, that familiar confidence coming back and steadying her as the last of her tremors died down. She knew Felicity thought that when Helena looked at Laurel she was reminded of Michael - and in some ways, it was true. But more than that, when Helena looked at Laurel, she saw the woman she wanted to be .
It probably would have been a good idea to ask first - Helena usually was better about that kind of thing with any of her partners - but maybe that fae blood was still messing with her head, maybe it was the adrenaline crash, maybe it was the near death experience. Maybe it was just being this close, Laurel’s finger on her mouth, that Helena couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward, her hands gently taking hold of Laurel’s still lingering at her face, and kissed her. Quick, almost chaste, just enough to sate that curiosity that had taken hold of her. At least she had enough sense not to try prying Laurel’s mouth with her tongue without asking.
“Don’t,” Laurel started when Helena began to withdraw, empty hand cupping Helena’s cheek. “Don’t stop.”
Hearing that - after hearing Laurel shouting at her to stop when she’d nearly lost all control - broke what little resolve Helena had regained. She pulled Laurel over, until the other woman was on her lap, mouth to mouth while her hands finally combed through Laurel’s hair, cupped her face the way she’d been dying to.
“Helena,” Laurel moaned against her lips, her hands prying away the eye mask from Helena’s face.
This was a bad idea. The Shadow might come back. More might be on the way. They needed to go back to the Clocktower, make sure Felicity knew they were okay, tell Tommy Merlyn his father was out to kill Laurel - a million reasons why this was the worst idea, the worst time.
None of them mattered. All that mattered was Laurel. Feeling her, kissing her, tasting her. Helena wanted - needed - to touch every part of her, make her scream, know what she looked like when she came. The sexual hunger that often followed a feeding was tenfold after having the blood of a sidhe - Helena had known that for years, but she’d never experienced it. It was almost maddening.
Laurel wasn’t helping, wasn’t offering any protests, just pressing against Helena as if she could feel that same hunger. Maybe somehow she could. Maybe that part of her that was fae could feel what her blood had done to Helena, the state it had left her in.
“Fuck, I can hear your blood moving through your veins, how fast your heart is beating,” Helena whispered against Laurel’s throat, kissing the throb of her pulse.
“You should feel how wet I am,” Laurel moaned in response, head tilted back as though she wasn’t worried Helena might bite back in for another taste, that Helena could lose control again any second and just tear into that beautiful neck. “Does feeding on someone always get them off?”
Oh.
Oh .
That explained why Laurel was so receptive. Apparently they were both finding out that was a kink of hers tonight.
“No, but - plenty of people find it a big turn on,” Helena offered, ignoring how much more tempting Laurel’s throat had become. “I want to taste how wet you are. I want to know what you sound like when you come. It’s the worst timing in the world, but fuck it, I still wanna go down on you.”
Laurel gripped her shoulders, pinning her down to the bed. “Then shut up and do it.”
Helena couldn’t help but grin, fangs flashing. “Yes, ma’am.”
-
It was dawn when the private caller number sent Malcolm’s phone buzzing on the nightstand. His thumb swiped to answer, impatient to receive the good news that the contract had been fulfilled.
“Al Sa-her. The contract has been terminated. Ra’s al Ghul says the shadows will not eliminate the death herald for you.” The line went dead before Merlyn could protest - though it was futile. Ra’s al Ghul was not someone who could be swayed by others, let alone a wayward student’s confused attempts to assure that he had no idea Laurel Lance was anything other than human.
Malcolm set his cell back down on the nightstand and rose from bed, walking to the doorway to the balcony, where the rising sun was chasing away the shadows. He glanced down at the darkness he stood in and closed his eyes, concentrated. Opening them, he looked to ensure the trick had worked.
Indeed, he was no longer merely standing in the shadows. He had become the Shadow.
“Fine. If I have to do it myself, then I will.”