Loverman
 
There's a devil waiting outside your door
How much longer
There's a devil waiting outside your door
How much longer
And he's bucking and braying and pawing at the floor
How much longer
And he's howling with pain and crawling up the walls
How much longer
There's a devil waiting outside your door
How much longer
And he's weak with evil and broken by the world
How much longer
And he's shouting your name and asking for more
How much longer
There's a devil waiting outside your door.
How much longer
 
Gabrielle watched out the window, but she didn't know what she was looking for. Outside the moon rise was just beginning, and the world was light with its glow. "How much longer?" She thought impatiently. The room she stood in was large and unfamiliar to her, and she desperately wished Xena was there with her. She paced her now familiar course from the fireplace to the window. A low burning fire and the moon were the only light, causing shadows to caress the furniture in the room. Gabrielle could almost imagine figures in them.
 
The little bard shook the thoughts from her head. "You're here for a reason now stay alert!" The mental scolding did its trick and she made her way back to the window. She arrived at her vigil and stared again out the window, her green eyes searching for something she knew she probably couldn't see. Her hand fell to the table and the bundle of thorns that rested on it.
 
"Its hawthorn." The young girl said as she pressed it into Gabrielle's hand.
 
The bard looked at her curiously and started to speak, but the girl raised a hand. "You're here to help us. Please take it. It's protection." Then the girl had run off, disappearing around the inn.
Gabrielle knew the superstition behind hawthorn. It was supposed to guard against witchcraft, but the blonde woman didn't believe in something like that. She was a firm believer that the only thing that could protect you was you. Or maybe a six foot blue-eyed warrior. But still, being a bard, she knew that behind every myth or legend there was a small trickle of truth that breathed life into it. She kept the hawthorn.
 
Now the night outside seemed ominous, as it grew silent except for the howling of wolves in the distance. The air was still, and no other animal could be heard, as if showing respect from some unknown entity. The hair on Gabrielle's neck rose and she searched the landscape. "Nothing."
 
Leaving the window with a sigh, she made her way to the bed. In her hand she could feel the sharp pricks of the hawthorn against her skin. Without her warrior there it was the closest thing to comfort she could find.
 
A lazy howl pierced the night, causing Gabrielle to jump. The bard slowly forced her body to calm, and her eyes to drift closed. She settled more comfortably into the bed and willed her body to relax. And had almost succeeded when she footsteps echoing outside the door. Her breath stopped and her heart started pounding again. Something was coming.
 
There's a devil crawling along your floor
How much longer
There's a devil crawling along your floor
How much longer
With a trembling heart he's coming through your door
How much longer
With strain and the sex in his jumping paw
How much longer
There's a devil crawling along your floor
How much longer
And he's old and he's stupid
And he's hungry and he's sore
And he's blind and he's lame
And he's dirty and he's poor
Give me more, Give me more, Give me more, Give me more
How much longer
There's a devil crawling along your floor
How much longer
 
Gabrielle feigned sleep as she heard the door slide open, then shut as someone entered. She clutched the hawthorn painfully in her hand, to keep her body from springing up. "It has to think I'm asleep or . . . "
 
She didn't dare think what would happen. The truth was she didn't know. Somehow, her breathing remained even, and her body relaxed. She was able to open her eyelids slightly and search out the intruder to her room. It was only a shadow in the dim light. But she could see it moving silently toward the bed, stopping periodically to listen with a slight cock of its head.
 
She could feel its cold eyes on her, and yet she willed her body still, though her every instinct was to run. The bard felt a touch to her cheek. It was so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze, or a lover's caress. For her very life she remained still.
 
A rustle of cloth and the thing was kneeling beside the bed and leaning over her. "How much longer!" The bard's mind screamed the words, and still her body did not move.
 

There's a devil laying by your side
How much longer
There's a devil laying by your side
How much longer
You might think he's asleep but take a look at his eyes
How much longer
And he wants you darling to be his bride
How much longer
There's a devil laying by your side
How much longer
 
Terror has many forms, and Gabrielle was facing one now, but she couldn't see its face. She couldn't see anything with her eyes closed, so she had to rely on her other senses. The creature was leaning over her. Its breath came in short bursts and on it was the coppery tinge of blood. It was rank to Gabrielle's nose and she gripped down harder on the hawthorn in her hand.
 
Her whole body tingled with sensation, and every move made by the thing hovering over her was felt. It leaned closer, and she felt the sharp teeth that started to prick her throat, when the door flew open behind them, revealing a large leather clad warrior. The creature hissed loudly, and Gabrielle opened her eyes.
 
The sight terrified and intrigued her all at once. The skin was pale, and cold, with the appearance of never seeing the light of day. Two sharp teeth protruded from crimson lips. And pale, cruel eyes glittered in the dark. The creature turned back to her now, intending to finish its job.
 
Grabbing Gabrielle by the arm, he tried to force her backwards, but she let instinct take over, and swung the right hand that was full of hawthorn. The thorns connected and tore into the thin skin of the creature's face causing it to howl in rage and pain. The distraction was enough for Gabrielle to jump off the bed and run behind the warrior.
 
Xena's sword was in one hand, and the other lazed around her chakrum. The creature's eyes turned from its prize and focused on the warrior. It bared its teeth, and started forward. Only to be flung backward, by a chakrum hitting it full in the chest.
 
It was up again, and charging, lashing out with sharp claws. Xena pushed Gabrielle out of the room and turned into the assault, feeling the tear in her leathers. It only served to make her more angry. Her blue eyes flashed, like the steel in her hand. The sword made its own slashing mark and she felt the familiar crunch of metal on bone, but the body in front of her didn't fall.
Instead, it howled again in rage and pushed the warrior away. Xena flew back several feet from the blow. Her eyes widened at the strength displayed by the move. They were two predators now, each eyeing their prey, looking for the best and quickest way to kill. Two warriors who circled one another in the confined room looking for an opening to strike.
 
The thing hissed again and sprang at her. Its movements were almost too quick to see, and it took a considerable amount of her skill to dodge the attack. She rolled under it, ending up by the door again. A sharp prick in her hand brought her attention to the hawthorn Gabrielle had dropped. Xena's hand lashed out and caught the bundle, quickly wrapping it around her fist.
 
She stood and faced the creature again. Its knees bent as it readied for another attack, and this time Xena was ready. Again the creature's body came flying at her. This time she didn't dodge.
She would later say it was like getting hit with a speeding chariot, but at the moment there was no thought in her mind except for killing this thing she now fought.
 
Raising the hawthorn-wrapped fist, she brought it down hard on the creature's back. The thorns entered her own skin even as she felt them enter her enemies, and she heard its cry of pain. Again and again she swung her fist down, opening wounds in the creatures back, until it fell to the floor in writhing agony.
 
The warrior grabbed her sword from the floor, and stood over her fallen opponent. With the sword held high above her head she swung it down with as much force as she could, taking the creature's head. She nodded slightly when she saw it roll away from the body.
 
"Gabrielle."
 
The little bard came back into the room, from where she was watching outside. She had already sent for the reeve by one of the house servants. She entered the room slowly, avoiding the body, and making her way to the warrior.
 
The warrior's hand was dripping with blood from the hawthorn wrapped around it. Gabrielle carefully unwrapped the plant and examined the puncture marks, before winding her other arm around Xena's waist. The warrior slid an arm around the bard's back and pulled her closer.
 
The warrior's voice seemed loud in the silence. "The body will have to be burned."
 
Gabrielle nodded against her chest. "We won't be staying around for that."
 
The bard nodded again.
 
Out the window and to the east, the sun slowly began to rise.