Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

               It started when Lauren passed out.

               Her vision had narrowed, at first, she thought it was just because the cave was dark, until it was a pinprick, and then nothing at all. Then she was falling. It was an odd feeling falling. She had no say in the matter and yet she aware this was not ideal. Then she was wet, and cold, and someone was pulling her up. They were warm, and oddly smelled nice.

               When she opened her haggard eyes again, she was staring up at Kieran, famed assassin, subordinate, and chronic pain in her ass, who looked oddly concerned. That lasted for moments before his face broke out into a more characteristic grin.

               “Going for a swim, mon amour?”

               “You’re funny,” she said as she tried to push him off, and promptly almost lost her balance causing her to grab harder onto his arm. The world was spinning. She was not a fan of how it was spinning.

               “When was the last time you slept?” he asked. He was being serious. That was different and a little concerning.

               “I’ve slept,” she muttered knowing that was a lie even without her skill.

               So, did he. Kieran had cocked his head to fix her with an almost withering look. “You’re sleeping here.”

               “No,” she said pushing off from him and this time being able to stand on her own. “I have work tomorrow. And the maids will be concerned if I don’t come home.”

               Kieran rolled his eyes. “This isn’t your first all-nighter and there’s a pool, woods, and most of the city between here and your uncle's house. You won’t make it.”

               Lauren was too tired to protest though some part of her wanted to say, ‘Just walk me home then.’ Or 'I'm a police officer I'll be fine.' “Fine,” she muttered, “But aren’t you tired too?”

               “I am.”

               “And where are you going to sleep? The floor?”

               “The bed.”

               Lauren paused. “With me.”

               “That is what it’s sounding like.”

               Lauren sighed deeply. “If you do anything, I will shoot you.”

               Kieran laughed. “Darling, you need to be more creative.”

               “I’m too tired,” she admitted before shaking her wet sleeves. “Do you have something dry? I don’t want to catch a cold.”

               Without hesitation, Kieran tugged his shirt off and handed it to her. “Are you going to be alright? You look unsteady.”

               “I’ll be fine, Mom,” she said before untucking her shirt from her waist and finding even more water. “If you look, I’ll shoot you.”

               “Yes, yes,” he said dryly as he walked away to see if it could make the twin bed more comfortable.

               His concern had been genuine. He had been looking at the board, planning their next move, when she had vanished from beside him. His first thought was that she had hit her head, but he had observed no blood, so now he was just angry. He was angry that she could have been hurt; if this had been a night when they were out looking for leads, she could have fallen from a roof, or passed out when questioning someone. He was angry that she did not seem to care about herself. And he was angry that he cared more about her than she seemed to care about herself. He was angry that he cared about her at all.

               It was hard not to. She was funny, and charming, and beautiful, and smart. He could admit he admired her a little. She was capable and good at her job which made her easy to work with. He would even admit he enjoyed working with her. It was novel, fun even. Bantering broke up the time and gave him something to look forward to, and that made him nervous. Their partnership was based on mutual need and could collapse as easily as it was formed. And caring about her made him a kind of vulnerable he did not allow himself.

               Still he found himself grabbing an extra blanket and small pillow and tossing it on the bed excited and nervous to sleep next to her. He reasoned with himself that if she did not care why did he care, but he was finding it difficult to hang on to that.

               “Finished?” he asked as he threw one of the pillows into the corner nearest the wall a bit more aggressively than warranted

               As way of an answer, Lauren rested a hand on his arm and pressed a mass of folded wet clothes into his hands. “Do you have a place to hang these?”

               First, he was startled that she’d managed to sneak up on him, an assassin, probably because he was internally monologuing, but as he turned over his shoulder to look for a place to hang her clothes he was startled again. It had not occurred to him what shirt he had given her. The shirt in question was low cut and held together at the collar with a series of ties that crossed the empty area, which meant most of her cleavage was available for viewing, as was most of her bare legs up almost to her hip because it had ridden up when she’d smacked him on the arm.

               This was a terrible decision and it was going to kill him if his pride did not first.

               “I’m not your maid,” he said despite taking the clothes from her.

               Lauren gave him a cheeky grin before crawling into the bed and draping the covers over herself. “Act like my mom. Be my mom.”

               Kieran sighed before taking the wet clothes and going to find somewhere to drape them.

               Having the covers over her made Lauren feel less exposed. Not that she felt all that exposed in what she was wearing, she had nightdresses that were shorter, but this felt different. She laid on her back and stared into the dark brown on the cave roof. Already she could feel her eyes getting heavy. She would have to sleep more. She did not want this to be a habit. She already had too many habits with Kieran she was not sure how she felt about. Glancing over at him, he had found places to drape her pants and shirt so they would be dry by tomorrow morning, she found herself lingering on his back. Where he had been cut was already starting to scab and scar, and at the time she had been surprised how few scars he had considering his line of work. He took care of himself, unlike her. Yet another of his many infuriating habits, like not taking anything seriously. Lauren pulled the blankets over her face to block out the thoughts until the room began to darken and she felt the bed sag as Kieran climbed into it.

               It was dark enough she could barely make out the lines of his figure, but she could feel his warmth as she shuffled over pressing herself nearer the wall to give him room. He consumed the available space until she could feel his back against hers.

               “Remember, if you do anything, I’ll kill you,” she said with a yawn.

               “I know. Go to sleep, Lauren.”

               “Good night, Kieran.”

Chapter Text

This had been a terrible choice.

In her delirium last night Lauren had forgotten that come the next morning she was going to have to crawl over Kieran because he was between her and the floor. Still, that was not the first thing she noticed because when she woke up, she had his arm tangled to her chest and her head resting against his shoulder. She’d paused in concern before slowly letting it go to see if he was awake. He was not, thank God.

Getting back to how she was going to get out of the bed Lauren glanced suspiciously at his face before swinging one leg over him and attempting to reach for the floor with her foot.

Her attempt was prevented by a hand snaking around her waist.

To her horror, she looked down and Kieran was indeed awake, if blearily so.

“Darling, are you trying to take advantage of me?” he purred.

Narrowing her eyes at him Lauren leaned down, bracing herself on the wire bed frame, before purring into his ear, “Do you want me to?”

Getting no response other than a brief tightening of the hand on her hip, Lauren slipped out of the bed and sauntered off to collect her clothes and dress.

Kieran, however, was in agony. This was going to be a hard morning, and Lauren might have known how hard if she had shifted her hips a little further down. He had not slept. He had tried. He had slept some, and the brief naps had been comfortable, blissful even, but overall she had been excruciatingly distracting. At some point, she had rolled over and placed her hand on his chest and that had been fine, not ideal but fine. Then she had grabbed his arm and pulled it to her chest so he could feel in detail the curve and weight of her breasts, and that had been fine, absolutely fine. But then she had rested her head on his shoulder, and she was so vulnerable, and so open, and he said he would not take advantage of her, she had made it very challenging.

As she walked away Kieran glanced after her and promptly looked back up at the ceiling. He tried to think of unsexy things like the messenger’s stupid mask, and paperwork, until he was confident his problem would be less noticeable. When he did swing his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, he kept his head low. Lauren still barked, “Don’t look,” at him. “I’m not looking,” he said adding, ‘There’s nothing worth seeing,’ in his head where he was more confident that would not come out as a lie.

He made his way over to the chest of drawers where put pulled out a loaf, jam, and butter before fixing one for himself, and one for her. “Will you be back later today?”

“No,” Lauren called as she finished with her trousers and started on her shirt. “We’ve almost gone a plan of entry, so I made other plans.”

Oh, he had almost looked forward to seeing her. “Going on a terrible date, are you?” he teased. Great idea, handle the problem he was having, and the small pang of jealousy with something that would make it worse.

He heard her make a noise of disgust in his direction. “No, if you must know, I’m meeting a friend from work. They said they hadn’t seen me in a while, and I thought spending time with them would make them less suspicious. Why do you ask?”

“Just making conversation. But that sounds like a good idea.”

“So glad you approve,” she said as she handed him his shirt back and picked up one of the slices and inhaled it. She lingered for a moment, like she planned to do or say something, killing him with the anticipation before she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

And then off she went. And there he was holding the shirt, stilling warm from her skin. Kieran leaned his head back and groaned into the empty space, “She’s going to be the death of me.”

Chapter Text

                She was gone by now, on her way to work; she’d be late if she didn’t hurry. Why did he know that? She’d be far enough away she couldn’t hear him.

                He slipped himself free from his trousers and hissed softly when he found himself at half-mast. A couple of slow strokes and he was up to his full length and twitching with anticipation. How she hadn’t noticed he had no idea.

               Or maybe she had, and somehow that was better.

               Kieran braced himself against the dresser as he imagined how this morning might have played out differently.

               In this sequence of events she still straddled him, leaned down and pressed her breast to his chest, and teased him, but this time he kissed her. And she returned the feeling.

               He captured and worried her lower lip, his hands digging into her hip while the other brushed back the curtain of her hair to pull her into him. He felt her go stiff with shock at first before gripping the bar above his head and deepening the kiss, teasing his teeth with her tongue as she did. It was his turn to be shocked and grinned into her lips.

               Eventually, she was straining her neck and she pulled back and pressed her face into his hand. “Don’t laugh at me,” she muttered her bottom lip darker and swollen.

               “I would never do that,” he said as he dragged his thumb over her lips, and she bit it. “Ow,” he hissed until she readjusted her hips and knees lower, and found his aforementioned problem.

               A flush spread over her cheeks, dark as her hair, before she grinned and ran her tongue over where she’d bitten him. “You enjoy it.”

               He did. He absolutely did. Would not change a thing.

               Emboldened she ground her hips into his until she drew out a groan from him. Her underwear had been among her wet clothes so there was nothing under his shirt, nothing between them. She ground until he bucked his hips and his hand had fallen to her collar where he fumbled with what to do with it next.

               Lauren knew what she wanted from him and grabbed his hand and placed it at the edge of her shirt between her legs, meaning clear, “Take this off.” Using his other hand for assistance he slid them up her curves until he was pulling the shirt up over her head and discarding it off the bed. She was beautiful, and she wanted him.  

               He reached out to cup her breasts and she grabbed him by the wrist and moved his hands to her hips, and her ass. He dug his nails in and she bucked. She was excited enough for the both of them.

               Sliding a hand between her legs she grabbed and guided him in. Inch by inch she sunk until he was fully sheathed inside her. She had moaned and covered her mouth, and her blush with her hands, and her chest with her arms. Once she settled down to the bottom her confidence seemed to return, and she began to rock.

               She drew moans and soft gasps from him as he rose to meet the occasion.

               They went on until her pace began to slow and she was panting a little in exhaustion, and bracing herself with her hands against his stomach.

               Letting go of her he pushed himself up and promptly flipped her flat on her back.

               She landed with a whoomph and made a noise of surprise and annoyance.

               “Having trouble, darling? Maybe you should hit the office gym more,” he teased as he pulled her legs over his shoulders.

               Lauren frowned and gazed up at him defiantly her arms raised lazily over her head. “I’m sorry have you had to use all of your core strength in a single sitting?”

               “Touché,” he countered before sliding back into her and they were both lost in it again.

               He only snapped back in when he heard her breathily call his name. “Kieran. Kieran I… I’m going to..”

               “Cum, for me, darling,” he growled before he felt her legs shake and a howl of a moan erupt from her lips.

               He wasn’t far behind, but he managed to pull out enough that he could decorate her stomach with his seed.

               Disheveled and satisfied was a good look on her, but she wasn’t there.

               He cleaned the cum from his hand with the shirt and promised himself to launder it later. If he couldn’t get ahold of his feelings this was going to make for a difficult partnership.

Chapter Text

Lauren arrived to work on time, though not as early as she normally would to beat the rush to the coffee machine and get a jump on her paperwork. Kym had even beaten her and already she was being chastised my William for her lackluster completion of paperwork.

               “But it’s boring,” she complained.

               “But it’s necessary,” he shot back.

               “Good morning,” Lauren said to the general office before heading over to her desk to begin filling out reports.

               Spotting her Kym maneuvered away from William to hover at her desk, causing him to sigh in exasperation and heading over to Lila to see if he couldn’t find even more for her to do, or to find something to keep her busy. “Good morning, Lauren,” Kym said as she took a quick inventory of Lauren’s outfit. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before, part of a uniform, so she hoped no one would notice, but leave it to Kym to be perceptive. “Didn’t you where that yesterday?” she asked with innocent curiosity.

               “No,” Lauren lied blithely as she sat down and shuffled her paperwork to begin sorting what she would need to do before their patrol this afternoon.

               Kym wrinkled her nose at the monosyllabic answer and grinned. “You look like you’ve slept better than you have in a while, whatever you were doing.”

               Lauren’s shock betrayed her as she blinked up at Kym. Weirdly, that felt true. For once she’d felt rested even without the coffee rushing through her veins. There wasn’t a constant low-grade headache making her vision blurry, and sensitive to sound. She hadn’t had a nightmare last night, for the first time in as long as she could remember. She hadn’t woken up screaming. She’d slept well. Next to Kieran. Next to the Purple Hyacinth. Next to a member of the Phantom Scythe and source of most of her nightmares. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

               Her glazed over eyes must have given her away because Kym laughed. “You’ll have to tell me about it later.”

               Right on cue William appeared with the additional paperwork and dropped it on her desk with a whump.

               Kym turned around and pouted. “No! This is harassment! I’m never going to finish all of that.”

               “Not with that attitude,” William said heading over to his own desk.

               Kym stuck her tongue out at him. “Sorry, Lauren. Looks like Mr. Kill Joy here is ruining our date.”

               “I heard that.”

               “I did say it to the general room.”

               Lauren laughed. It felt good to laugh. “Next time,” she assured her.

               Armed with that Kym returned to her desk and the peaceful hum of business settled in.

               ----

               After work, after patrol, and yet even more paperwork, Lauren bid Kym goodbye, who was still hunched over her pile like an accountant during tax time. She wasn’t sure what to do with her free hours. She’d been looking forward to spending it with Kym. Between work and Lune, she hadn’t had much personal time and it would have been a nice change of pace.

               Lucky for her William caught her at the bottom of the stairs while he was shaking out his umbrella.

               She looked out the glass of the door to the APD to see rain falling in buckets. It was almost as if the universe itself was conspiring to make her wet.

               “Did you forget your umbrella?” he asked.

               “I didn’t check the weather,” she admitted regretting not taking an additional coat yesterday.

               “Do you want to share mine,” he offered, “We’re going to same way.”

               Lauren sized up the offer, before nodding. It’d been a while since she’d spent time with William, and she’d missed it. “If you won’t mind.”

               “You will get wet,” he assured her, before opening the door and they were both hit in the face with a wet wind.

               Lauren sighed. “Somehow I feel like we’d get wet either way.”

               The silence was companionate, but eventually Lauren broke it by asking, “How is your mom?”

               “The usual.”

               “I see…well, I’m sure her health will improve soon. With everything you’ve tried something had to work.”

               Her answer was met with silence that veered into uncomfortable. Luckily, a harsh gust of wind blew the umbrella and sprayed both of them.

               “Do you want to duck in this coffee shop?” he asked.

               “Desperately,” she replied already heading for the door. It was the same one from her terrible date months ago. So much had happened since then it felt like years.

               It was the same small shop, but warm and dry, and a pleasant change from the squall outside. While William shook out the umbrella and hung his coat, Lauren went to the counter and ordered them both coffees. She’d known William since they were children. She knew how he took his coffee. Ever the efficient pair while she secured warm drinks, he found them a table in the bustling but not crowded café front. It seemed they were not the only ones deciding the weather the storm indoors.

               William had taken the seat nearest the window with his back to the door since he knew Lauren was more comfortable being able to see the whole room. It was one of her quirks. One of several.

               “You didn’t have to buy my coffee,” he said as she sat his cup down and settled into the seat across from him.

               “It’s a thank you for letting me share your umbrella,” she said as she lifted her coffee to her lips, took a sip and promptly burned her tongue. “Ow!” she hissed and stuck out her tongue.

               William laughed. “You still do that!”

               Lauren pouted. “That is not my fault. They make the coffee too hot.”

               He continued to laugh at her.

               She was so absorbed in their conversation she missed the dark figure moving past her outside the window. She barely registered the bell of the door as it opened and closed. It wasn’t until she heard a distinctive voice that she perked up and stared at horror at the man at the counter. Kieran White was ordering a coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world.

               He noticed her too, after he’d removed and shook out his long coat and hung it on the coat rack, when he’d scanned the room to look for a seat. When their eyes met there was a brief look of surprise before his lips settled into a grin.

               She narrowed her eyes.

               “What?” William asked noticing her look and looking over his shoulder to find the source.

               “Nothing,” she said despite rising from her seat. “I’m going to get some ice.”

               He wasn’t satisfied by the answer but accepted it anyway. “I’ll be here.”

               “Thanks,” she said as rested her hand on his shoulder as she passed.

               Kieran made a face. Honestly, he looked like a drowned rat.

               Lauren didn’t address him directly, in fact she walked right past him and asked for a cup, before carrying on to the bathroom. Kieran took the hint and followed.

               When they were out of hearing range Lauren stopped and shoved Kieran up against the wall. “Why are you here? Are you stalking me?” she hissed.

               “Hello to you too, mon amour,” he said dryly, not the slightest bit threatened by her mug. “And no. I’m here for coffee. I do have hobbies outside of you.”

               Lauren glared but couldn’t detect a lie in his words the cheeky bastard. She didn’t believe this was a coincidence. Kieran was too meticulous for a coincidence.

               “You should get back to your date. He’d be jealous if he found you scandalizing another man in the bathroom hallway.”

               Lauren gagged. “Oh. No. Oh. Oh. No. He’s like my brother. I told you I wasn’t going on a date.”

               Kieran made an unreadable face at her. “I don’t have your lie detector powers, darling.”

               She was a little hurt he hadn’t believed her. Sighing, this was pointless, Lauren released him and walked towards the women’s bathroom. “Fine. Enjoy your coffee.”

               He would, but not as much as he enjoyed her walking away.

               By the time she got back to her seat Kieran had already gotten his coffee and was seated at a table not too far away from her own, not that any table was that far away in the small café. She’d had to walked past him and she’d glared while he ignored her, despite the small grin she saw on the corner of his lips.

               “Did they not have ice?” William asked as she settled down into her seat.

               “The ice machine was broken. I got water from the bathroom.” When she took a sip now the coffee was a reasonable temperature. It was actually pretty good coffee. She might even come back if this wasn’t rapidly becoming a hot spot for awkward moments in her life.

               William’s face was unreadable. Finally, he said, “The stuff Kym was saying back at the office, you do look like you’ve slept for the first time in a while.”

               Lauren groaned. “Not you too.”

               “It’s true,” he said. “We’re worried about you. I’m worried about you. Since the Purple Hyacinth almost killed you you’ve been different. We never see you outside of work. I’m worried you’re going after him on your own.”

               What would William say if she told him he was sitting right behind him, and she’d lied when she’d said she hadn’t seen his face, and that the good sleep she was being congratulated on was because for the first time she’d felt safe because there was a bigger monster in her bed than out in the world.

               Lauren glanced in Kieran’s direction and read tension in his shoulders. She imagined nothing read on his face as he calmly sipped his coffee. Fragile as their alliance was if she hadn’t called him out in the square, she wasn’t going to do it now, not when she was already this deep in it.

               “I wouldn’t do something like that,” she said and the relief on William’s face was palpable. “I’ve just been busy. Almost dying’s renewed my commitment to finding who killed Dylan.” It wasn’t a lie. Everything she’d done with Kieran was to find who had hurt her friend.

               William placed a hand over hers, startling her. He gripped it firmly before adding, “You would tell me if something was wrong, right?”

               “Of course.”

               “Good. Now tell me about this guy. Do I have to break his kneecaps?”

               An inconvenient blush stained her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

               “That’s the same shirt you wore yesterday. You stained it with your pen.”

               God damn it.

               “Did you seriously think no one would notice?”

               Honestly, yes. “You spend too much time with Kym. She’s starting to rub off on you.”

               “That’s hurtful.”

               “She’s your friend.”

               “She’s a menace. But come on. Who’s the guy?”

               “There’s no guy!” Even without her lie detector powers it rang hollow.

               William fixed her with a look.

               She sighed. Fine. Protesting wasn’t making her look any less guilty. Giving a small glance toward Kieran, who’s ear she could feel pointing in her direction, she said, “Fine. There’s a guy.”

               “Thank you. So, what’s he like?”

               “Are you going to go big brother on him?”

               “That remains to be seen. I haven’t gone big brother on any of your other dates.”

               “True but they did that to themselves.”

               William laughed. “I can’t believe they keep calling your eyes pensive.”

               Lauren made a face of disgust. “Please don’t remind me.”

               “I will not. It’s hilarious.”

               “You’re rude.”

               “Stop stalling and tell me about him.”

               Lauren mock glared at him and sighed. “Fine.” Choosing her words wisely, not to inflate Kieran’s ego, or draw too much scrutiny, she said, “I met him while I was looking for information about Dylan.”

               “Is he nice?”

               “He’s…challenging.”

               “Do I need to break his kneecaps?”

               Lauren laughed. “No. No. He’s not mean or anything. He can just be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Lots of times.

                “What’s he do?”

               “He arranges flowers.” Not technically a lie.

               “You’re dating a florist?”

               “I did not say we were dating. That was you.”

               William gave her a dry look. “Fine. Spent the night with a florist. Are you going to introduce us?”

               Lauren was almost offended on Kieran’s behalf with the tone William was taking about him. “No. We’re not serious. I don’t even know if I like him all that much.”

               “Well he sounds great.”

               “Don’t be rude,” she said as she smacked William’s arm.

               “I’m not!” he protested. “I’m glad you’re happy. And honestly I’m happy to stop hearing about your terrible dates.”

               “God, don’t even start with me.”

               The rest of their coffee was finished in banal chatter without interruption from one Kieran White. By the time they were done the wind had died down enough it wasn’t buffeting the glass making the rain more manageable. Lauren bussed their table while ignoring Kieran, before helping William collect their things. She left with him under his umbrella laughing and chatting as she crossed in front of the window and vanished out of sight.

               Left alone in the café Kieran finished his coffee. He didn’t normally consider murder outside of assigned tasks, but he almost wanted to make an exception.

Chapter Text

             Two days later Lauren was sitting at her desk at the APD fuming. Kym had been called away to help the new recruits with shooting drills, William was giving a report in Hermann’s office, Lucas was in the archives getting paperwork, so the office was filled by only her and Lila who was working in relative silence. Lauren, however, was not.

            After the third of fourth overly aggressive removal of a staple, Lila asked, “Is something wrong?”

             Lauren looked up unaware how much noise she’d been making with her annoyance. “I’m sorry was I disturbing you?”

             "No,” Lila said shaking her head. She wouldn’t call her and Lauren friends, but they were friendly as one was with a coworker. “You seem angry. Did something happen?”

             Had something happened? Well, Lauren was pretty sure she was being bullied.

             After their coincidental meeting, that Lauren swore wasn’t a coincidence, Kieran had been even more intolerable. She’d been sitting trying to read some documents they’d recovered and he’d leaned over her, blocking her light, crowding her space, taken it from her hands, and when she’d tried to get it back from his he’d used his height to hold it above her reach. She’d threatened to kick him. He’d marveled at the novelty of a new threat. He’d even asked her if he was a florist now, and when she teased him back saying, “What makes you think I was talking about you?” He’d made a face she couldn’t read. He’d been very quiet and even more annoying after that.

              Finally, when they’d fully finished the plan for scoping out Flemings, much earlier than she’d planned, but later than they could of if he hadn’t been interfering, she’d been packing up her things and he’d offered to walk her back.

              “No,” she’d said as she shouldered her coat and tapped her gun. “I’ll be fine.”

              “I insist.”

              She’d glared. “Kieran, I’ll be fine.”

              “You passed out two days ago,” he countered.

              “And I have slept since then. I will be fine Kieran. I walked myself home before you, and I can continue to do so.”

              He’d made a face, the same one from earlier, and said, “Alright. You are after all a capable officer.”

              She was not fond of the tone he was taking with her. “I will see you tomorrow then when we meet back here.”

              He nodded. “Make sure to sleep. It’s going to be another long night.”

              “Yes, Mother.”

              That earned a laugh and some of the tension went out of the interaction.

              “Is someone bothering you?” Lila asked looking concerned.

              Lauren wondered if William had shared about her mystery man. She doubted it. If it were Kym the information would have already made rounds around the office, but William wasn’t the kind to gossip. Lila’s question was one of genuine concern. It was touching, and Lauren hesitated to answer. In two days she’d talked more about Kieran than she had in months and it wasn’t a trend that boded well for her, but the opportunity to shed light on their interactions with someone who wasn’t invested was temping.

              “I’m having trouble with one of my friends,” she admitted finally. She wasn’t sure if she’d call Kieran a friend. Partner sure, but heavily invested acquaintance seemed more correct.

              “Is it Will? Kym said you two left together yesterday. Are you having a lover spat?”

              Lauren gagged. “No. No. Absolutely not. Someone else.” Just the thought of considering William romantically was repulsive. She’d kissed him once when they were twelve, and they’d both agreed it was not something either of them wanted to repeat.

              “But it’s a guy?” Lila continued.

               Everyone in this office was invested in her personal life apparently. Possibly because she was the only one with a personal life but still.

               Finally, Lauren sighed. “Yes. He’s being incredibly annoying. He keeps taking my things and holding them so I can’t get them, and laughing at me, and trying to walk me home when I’m perfectly capable.” Having said it out loud the last one read as a little petty to her ears.

               Lila laughed. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry I don’t mean to offend you. He sounds like he likes you.”

               Lauren stared at her like she’d grown two heads.

               Lila seemed to cave under the scrutiny. “He sounds like my cousin. He pulls on a girl's hair in class when he wants her attention because he likes her.”

               Lauren stared down into her paperwork as she absorbed this information. Kieran might like her, romantically, and was flirting with her like a little kid. Given the little information she knew about it him, and admittedly it wasn't much, because it was fine when he dug into her personal life but that apparently that wasn’t mutually ok, it made sense if he’d flirt it’d be like a little kid. What she was struggling to swallow was that he might be flirting with her at all, let alone that he might romantic feelings for her. Unpacking all the things he’d said and done, all the teasing, and the touching, and the care, and sleeping in the same bed, and asking if she was seeing someone it dawned on Lauren that he might actually have feelings for her, and she was blushing.

               “I’m sorry. Was I out of line?”

               “No,” Lauren said, too quickly. Her voice came out as harsh. “I…just. Thank you for the new perspective. It shed a lot of light on my situation.”

               Lila seemed to accept this, and nodded before returning to her work.

               Lauren couldn’t. She sat there shuffling paperwork and pondering what to do with this new information, and the developing blush she was feeling spreading over her face.

               By the time Will returned most of the blush had tamped down but it was still noticeable under her eyes. Will noticed. “Are you feeling alright?”

               “Mm,” Lauren asked looking up from her final report. “Yes. Why?”

               “You looked distracted.”

               “Oh,” she said as she put the final file in a folder and stood up to take it to the archive. “No. I’m fine.”

               “Harvey’s funeral is tomorrow.”

               Lauren stopped. She’d forgotten. It’d been over a week ago, but she’d managed to actually forget that her own coworker had been killed in the office by the Phantom Scythe. How heartless was she?

               “I remember.”

               “Are you doing alright?”

               “Are you?” she asked. This was his squad. If anyone would feel Harvey’s death it would be William.

               William’s face turned to stone, unreadable, before he said, “I’m fine.” He was one of the few people she could never tell if he was lying, worse than Kieran. She knew he kept everything inside him and it would break him eventually.

               “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” she asked resting a hand on his shoulder.

               A small smile crossed his lips. “I promise.”

              “You better,” she said better tapping his shoulder and walking off to the archives. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

               ----

               Back at the cave, Kieran was sitting on the bed as Lauren changed into the maid costume. “Does it always take you this long to get ready?”

               “I don’t know if you had time to look at this thing,” she hissed from underneath the skirt as she pulled it over her head, “but it’s a monstrosity.”

               “I did have to carry it,” he admitted. Stealing it wasn’t terribly hard. Neither was lightly poisoning the maid, so she’d have the day off. Details he had not shared because they weren’t relevant.

               Finally popping her head out Lauren said, “Then you should know.” It itched too. “I don’t know you designed this, but I hate them.”

               Kieran laughed. “Someone enjoys it.”

               “Is that someone you?” she said as she walked over into his vision. Her hair was still down so she hadn’t fully adopted the maid persona, but all the same, it did fit her remarkably well.

               And it looked good. Almost too good. “One of many I’m sure,” he teased before handing a pair of glasses. “Though you might want to hide those murderous eyes of yours.”

               Lauren took them and held them in her teeth while she fixed her hair in a bun. When she was finished, she complained, “I can’t believe I’m who has to do this while you get to drink in a bar.”

               Kieran grinned. “I can’t be in two places at once, darling, and besides, I wouldn’t look nearly as good in this as you do.”

               She rolled her eyes. “Please know. I hate you.”

               “I know,” he said, and the fact that he wasn’t lying hurt her feelings just a little. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the information she’d absorbed from Lila earlier.

               “Well let’s get this over with then shall we,” she said as she headed to the cage door of the cave.

               “That’s the spirit.”

               Once they entered the city they parted. It wasn’t a good form for espionage and a stakeout to arrive together. It ruined the mystique. So while Lauren was enjoyed breaking and entering Kieran was enjoying a drink.

               He’d arrived earlier, found a spot where he could see the full bar no matter where Flemings decided to sit, and still enjoy the conversation with anonymity.

               He didn’t have to wait long. Flemings arrived not much later and took a seat at the bar. A bold choice.

               His company took longer, but when she did arrive Kieran took a larger sip of his drink. This was going to present a bit of a problem.

               Ex-girlfriend was a strong word to describe his relationship with Belladonna Davenport. They’d fucked more than once, and they were friendly, or as friendly as you could be when you worked in the same arena doing the same thing, but she wasn’t someone he willingly spent lots of quality time with. Not like Lauren. So as soon as his stakeout concluded Kieran got up and tried to leave, and promptly got caught.

               “You know it’s not very polite to eavesdrop, Kieran,” she said in a honeyed tone.

               Quickly the concern he felt melted into good-natured charm on his face. “Crumbs,” he admitted with a shrug. “There’s no hiding anything from you Belladonna Davenport.”

               It was a telling conversation, and one in which, he both ingratiated himself to Belladonna, and hopefully to Lauren. It reminded him why he’d stopped spending time with her, but he’d learned who’d killed Lauren’s coworker, so he could make good on that promise to her. And hopefully, earn some brownie points in the process.

Chapter Text

“You heard me. You can’t walk, I will not carry you across the entire city. And there are no cabs at this hour of night, especially not in this district. Call your uncle and tell him you’re staying at your friend's house or whatever if you must,” Kieran said before grabbing her ankle to prove his point.

               Lauren yelped and with her good foot kicked him in the face.

               “Ow,” he said having caught most of the blow with his arm. “And after I carried you all the way here too.”

               “You’re being an ass,” she snapped ready to kick him again but he stood up and out of range. She glowered at his back.

               She was sleeping her, with him, again. Despite her best wishes, it had become a habit.

               Looking down at the floor from her seat on the table to collect her question she asked, “How do you feel about me?”

               The question seemed to catch him by surprise because he stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “You’re a capable officer and a valuable member of this partnership.”

               That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “Do you have romantic feelings for me, Kieran White?” She said it almost as a challenge staring him in the eyes.

               Brief shock went through his face before he turned away and closed the medical box. He was thinking, rapidly. He’d guessed what she’d been driving at with her first question but thought a noncommittal answer was enough, and he couldn’t lie to her. Exasperated he finally turned back to look at her and glared back. “I do. What about you?”

               It was her turn to be shocked. Her face burned as she looked away to the floor and dug her hands into her dress. She wasn’t sure. He was frustrating, but she enjoyed and looked forward to his company, and he wasn’t bad on the eyes, but—

               Lauren felt something brush against her foot and looked up to see him staring down at her. He was serious. She tried to look away but he caught her cheek and implored an answer.

               “I…I do,” she said finally and wanted to drown in the blush that had overtaken her. “So. What do we do now?”

               Kieran grinned. “I have an idea,” he teased before tilting her head up and pressing his lips to hers.

               She hesitated for a moment, and she could feel him pulling back before she grabbed his collar and pulled him in. She held him until she couldn’t breathe and the world returned to focus.

               He pulled back and laughed as she rested her hand on his shoulders. “Somehow I figured if I kissed you it would be in a closet hiding during a stakeout.”

               It was Lauren’s turn to laugh and she cackled so hard tears formed at the corner of her eyes. When she could take a full breath of air she rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Kieran, I can’t feel your legs.”

               “That good?”

               She laughed. “Cocky, subordinate. But no I’m pretty sure the edge of the table is cutting off blood flow to my legs.”

               “Oh.” Kieran leaned down and in one swift motion, Lauren was up over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

               “Hey! Put me down!” she snapped as she tried to whack him in the back.

               Her blows were ineffective as he carried her towards the couch. “You can’t walk. And I can’t have you bleeding over everything.”

               “You patched my arm!”

               “Details,” he said with glee before depositing her flat on her back on the couch and crawling over her.

               He leaned in to kiss her again, but she stopped him by resting a hand on his shoulder.

“What?”

               “Can you help me out of this dress?”

               “You want me to take off your dress?” he asked incredulously.

               “It feels like it’s trying to peel my skin.”

               Sitting back, he shook his head and went, “Alright,” before rolling the heavy skirt up and sliding his hands under the fabric. He ran his hands down her knees and thighs while she shivered up to her waist. “Lift your hips for me.” She lifted her hips a meager amount and he chuckled before sharping tugging the skirt up over her hips. She glared; he grinned. He ran his hands up her sides before finally pulling the dress over her head and tossing it onto the floor above her.

               Now she understood why he’d been incredulous. With only underwear and a bra on, she felt underdressed.

               Still, she didn’t think about it long before he was back kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck. She’d groaned in pleasure when he’d found a soft spot on her neck and nipped hard enough to bruise.  

               “And you said you didn’t like me,” he teased in her ear.

               Lauren used her uninjured arm to gather his hair and pull his head back so she could say, “I don’t,” before planting a kiss on him. She confused him even further by tugging his shirt free in the back.

               Snaking out of her hands he pulled back and his shirt of and sent it over the arm of the couch. He had started on his belt when she sat up, reached out, and pressed a hand over his.

               She was flattered, out of breath, and flushed enough that it was a strong contrast to the linen of her bra, and she could see the painful hardness straining in his pants but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for more than what they were already doing. And he seemed to understand that.

               He let go and gathered her up into his arms and his lap before flopping down on his back with her landing on top of him. She glowered at him as he grinned and brushed her hair away from her face and out of his. “Much more comfortable.”

               With hesitation, but driven by a competitive streak, Lauren shifted her weight so she had more easy access to his hard-on and tentatively rubbed it through his pants.

               It was shock she got first and a tight groan, before he grabbed her hand and brought the inside of her wrist to his lips. “That’s enough of that,” he said as he scraped his teeth of her pulse.

               “Why?” she asked embarrassment burning in her cheek.

               “Honestly, you were making it worse.”

               She laughed. “I’m flattered then.”

               “You should be,” he said before resting his hand on the small of her back.

               After a long comfortable silence, she yawned and said, “I should go to bed.”

               “You should. You have work tomorrow.”

               “Don’t remind me,” she groaned softly despite not getting up.

               There was another long silence before she finally sat up. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

               He looked at her quizzically. “Now you’re embarrassed.”

               Lauren picked up the pillow at the end of the couch and threw it at him. “It’s weird sleeping in your bed without clothes.” And then after a pause, she added, “Are you…joining me?”

               He would kill for the way she looked right now. He shook his head before pushing himself up causing her to stand so he could get all the way up. “No. It’s not exactly a bed for company. Besides I need to go get your clothes from the cave.”

               “And yet the one in a cave is a twin.”

               He shrugged and lead her to follow into the bedroom where he pulled a shirt out of the dresser and handed it to her. “Do you need anything else?”

               She shook her head. “No. That should be it.”

               There was a beat of uncomfortable silence when he turned to leave before she grabbed him by the collar pulled him in and kissed him. She surprised him enough his lips lingered after hers even when she’d pulled away.

               “Good night.”

               “Good night,” he said before leaving and closing the door behind him.

               Once the door was closed he raked his hand through his hair and down his face. What the hell had just happened? Still, in shock, he walked over and sat down in the middle of the couch. Her dress and his shirt were still tangled up on the floor. He’d told her how he felt. She’s reciprocated. He’d kissed her. She’d kissed him back. They’d made out and she’s been into it. And now he didn’t know what to do with himself. Some part of him wanted to handle his problem but wasn’t sure if she was asleep yet, and so he decided to ignore it and hoped it went away like all of his other problems, before getting up. He still had to clean the blood in the entryway.

------

               The next morning Lauren woke up with a start when she realized where she was, and what she’d done. She buried her face in her hands in embarrassment as if she could dig a hole deep enough to crawl into. She’d kissed Keiran. She’d made out with him. Touched him.

               When the internal screaming wore off enough that she could take stock of her surroundings she noticed the crutch and smiled. Thoughtful of him.

               Using the crutch she poked around the room enjoying his collection of books. She was surprised by how many he had. She wondered if he’d read them all. She’d have to ask.

               “Kieran?” she called into the main body of the small apartment when she’d opened the door. He wasn’t there. It didn’t look like he’d slept at all.

               Since he wasn’t here, she poked around his apartment until she settled on the stack of charcoal drawings. She said expected that. Pushing some around she saw pictures of people from the park, or cafes, or other public places. Maybe he had just been at the café for the coffee because it’s done a remarkable likeness of it. It was so strange that he had normal hobbies.

               Moving on around the room she found a locked door. She was trying the door nob and debating what could be behind it when the heard the front door open.

               “Honey! I’m home!”

               Lauren’s lip quirked as she fixed him with a deadpan look. “Good morning, subordinate. Where have you been?”

               Kieran took her in, mussed hair, bruised lips, and wearing his shirt. “Oh. There you are. I see you slept well.”

               “Obviously more than you did.”

               “Lauren, your face…”

               “Huh, what- Is there something on my face?” she asked rubbing it off.

               He threw the bag of her clothes at her face and walked past her to the kitchen. “You still had pillow marks on your face.”

               Lauren glared at the bag before dropping it and rummaging through for her uniform. He really had brought it.

               “How’s your injuries?” he asked as he grabbed an apple to distract from the conversation he very much did not want to have about last night.

               “The stitches still sting a little, but at least it didn’t start bleeding again. And my ankle isn’t killing me anymore, so I’ll be fine.”

               There was an uncomfortable silence where he tried to inhale the apple before coughing. “There’s a cab waiting outside for you. I already paid the driver.”

               “Hm…thanks.” Was he not going to mention last night? Were they not going to talk about it?

               “If I ever find out you’ve looked through my things while I was out know that I might have to kill you. And go put on some decent clothes before you go to work. People might get the wrong idea about your job.” How long could he avoid this conversation?

               Lauren picked up a can and clocked him in the back of the head before storming off to the bedroom.

               When she reappeared, she was dressed in a more serious uniform. “Thank you for everything, and Kieran, I enjoyed last night. I’ll be leaving now.”

               He was preparing to start breakfast and smiled under his breathe. “So did I. I’ll see you later.”

               “I’ll see you later.”

               He heard the cab take off and rumble away while he began eggs. Then he heard a knock at his window from a blackbird with a familiar ribbon around its leg.

               Horror and rage shot through him with equal measure as he opened the window and retired the message before sending the bird flying.

               “Tower. Tonight,” it read typed on a piece of parchment no longer than his pinky.

               He crumbled it, before flattening it back out and producing a match from one of the drawers. He struck it and allowed the flame to consume the note in the bowl of his sink.

               Being with Lauren he’s been able to forget what he was, what he is. Perhaps it was best he remembered. Perhaps it was best to remind her what he was capable of.

Chapter Text

                It was into the wee hours of the morning when he finished. He deposited the last purple hyacinth in the pool of Anslow’s blood and backtracked down the stairs that were slick with it. It ran from floor to floor following him as it always did as he made his way calmly but quickly out of the tower. Someone would notice soon. An entire tower where prisoners were kept couldn’t go silent without someone noticing, and it would serve as a potent and effective message. Kieran was good at his job.

               He was exhausted. He’d managed a nap once Lauren had left but it was hard to sleep in his apartment. He’d gone to the cave and had been somewhat more successful there without the brightness.

               He was sore. Sure, he worked out, practiced, trained, but twenty, thirty, he didn’t keep track, he didn’t care how many, policemen put a bit of a dent in his efforts. They weren’t hard to kill. If he did his job well, they wouldn’t even notice him.

               He was covered in blood and it was wet, and sticky, and it itched. He’d have to scrub this coat and even then, he wasn’t confident he’d be able to salvage it. Thank god for heavy cleaners.

               He didn’t head into the city. He didn’t go to his apartment. He wasn’t Kieran White, currently, he was the Purple Hyacinth, and the Purple Hyacinth was in need of a nap. He knew he wouldn’t get one. He was shaking.

It would have made it to the papers by now. She’d have seen it. Would she come directly? No. She’d too dutiful for that. She’d finish her shift. It wasn’t like he was hard to find. Funny how the police could never find him. He was after all good at his job.

               He was shaking when he opened the cave door with the key. He had to will his hand steady, not that it shook. It felt like all of his muscles were trembling, but his hands were perfectly fine. Of course, they were. He was good at his job.

               Inside the cave, he pulled off his jacket, vest, shirt, and pants and tossed them into the water. He didn’t toss his boots, leather would shrink, and he couldn’t afford another pair, before plunging in himself. He scrubbed the blood out of his hair, off his face and skin. He scrubbed the clothes enough that he could launder them without concern before hauling himself back out and toweling himself off. He got redressed. He hung the clothes to dry.

She’d be here soon. She’d be pissed.

               Once he was dressed, he sat, he tried to draw the coffee shop from memory. He couldn’t get the lines straight. He kept breaking the charcoal.

               It’d started raining. That would have been helpful a few hours ago. Mores the pity. He’d need to move the clothes up so they wouldn’t be touched by the rising water.

               He tried reading. He knew the passage by heart, but the letters kept blurring. It was frustrating. He kept reading it, over, and over, and over, until they formed words, sentences, chapters, and the shaking stopped. He’d gotten two chapters in before Lauren arrived like an avenging angel.

               “Well well officer. What a delightful surprise.”

               “Kieran,” she snapped, more of a warning than anything, through gritted teeth.

               He chuckled as he put down the book and got up. “Want to grab a cup of coffee and chat about our days? I’ve been craving some! Had a pretty late night, you know.”

               Lauren could have broken her teeth how hard she gritted them before stalking over to him. “I know what you did last night.”

               “You do? You know, it’s not really nice to spy on me-“

               Lauren slapped her soaked coat down. She was soaked to the bone. “You brutally slaughtered dozens of innocent people at the tower and murdered everyone we exposed!”

               “My, my, news travels fast! Am I famous yet?” he asked with a dry laugh. He knew the answer. He was the reason sane people didn’t go out at night.

               Lauren closed the distance between them and grabbed him by the collar to drag him down to her eye level. “Is this a joke to you!” she snapped before pushing him away, pushing him off balance. “How the hell could you do this? How can you be so nonchalant?! After what you did mere hours ago! How can you even bear to live with yourself with so much blood on your hands?”

If it hadn’t been the rain, he might have mistaken the water running down her face for tears.  

“The leader may order you to strike but there’s not a shred of remorse in you.”

Don’t look at me like that. Don’t bring them into this.

“Just how heartless are you?”

               You should know Lauren. I tried to kill you when we first met. I killed two people when we first met. You knew this. This isn’t new. Why are you surprised? Stop looking at me like you’re disappointed.

               Nothing read on his face. Stones show more emotion.

               “Or do you actually enjoy it? Maybe it makes you proud to be the most dreaded assassin this city has ever known,” she shouted at him.

               “And what exactly would you do if I said yes?” he asked with a coldness she hadn’t heard before as he tilted his chin so he could examine her like a bug. “What if I enjoy watching my targets scream and squirm as the blood drains from their bodies? Beg for help as their lives wither away?”

               “You,” she said taking a half step back. “You disgust me. You’ve probably known for a while you’d have to kill them and yet you said nothing!”

               Would it have honestly mattered? If I’d told you you would have tried to stop me because you’re a good cop, and I’d have gone through you if I had to. I might care about you Lauren but I’m not dying for you to save the lives of criminals and cops. “I didn’t know we had to tell each other everything about our hobbies.”     

               “How can I trust you after this, Kieran?” she screamed.

                Thank god they were out of the city.

                “Hell what am I even doing with you?”

                 I ask myself that constantly.

                “It was stupid of me to believe you could be human even for a second. You’re nothing but a monster.”

               He wanted her to say it. Sure he’d gotten orders, sure he had to, sure there would be consequences if he didn’t, but he’d wanted to kill them. Somehow, someway, she cared about him, genuinely cared about him, and he cared about her and he hated it, because nothing, no one, could affect him. It slowed him down, made him vulnerable, made him forget—whatever he could do to himself she could do so much worse and he’d let her if it let him believe what he wanted to about himself. That didn’t mean he wanted to hear it. He trusted her. She trusted him. She was an idiot. He hated her.

               When she called him a monster it ripped through him and stole the last of his decency. He laughed, dark and long and low, while he covered his eyes with his hand. What kind of a face was she making? Horrified? She should be. Terrified? He wouldn’t be surprised.

               “You thought I was human? What a monumentally stupid mistake, darling,” he hissed as he pulled his hand back through his hair. The shakes were back. They were controlled rage now not adrenaline. “I’m impressed, actually. You must the only person delusional enough to believe that. You knew who I was when we made our deal. You should have known what was waiting for you,” he said as he slowly stalked towards her.

               She didn’t run. She didn’t cower. She glared, angrier than ever.

               “What did you think you’d find underneath? A pitiful hurt little puppy? A lost misunderstood sweetheart.” Sarcasm was rich in his voice.

               Now she stepped back as he leaned the way he had the night before when he kissed her neck down to her ear and hissed, “Oh please, Lauren. I am the Purple Hyacinth.” He reached out and brushed her hair behind her ears. “The reason sane people in the city don’t sleep at night.”

               In a fluid motion, he drew a knife and her eyes followed it and not him and he moved to hold her with his arm around her throat and his hand controlling her other hand. She always fell for this. She trusted him too much. She was too vulnerable with him. Did she seriously not think he’d hurt her? Was she honestly not afraid of him?

               “Let go…of me,” she said shaking now. Was it real now?

               “I ‘brutally slaughtered dozens of innocent people’ hours ago, didn’t I?” he purred into her ear, “But I’ve done so much better than that.” He had her full attention, unflinching, and unwavering, and she was going to listen whether she liked it or not. “I once carved a man’s heart out of his chest and mailed it to his loved ones. Murdered an entire family, sat their corpses up in the living room, and waited all night for the father to come home. Oh, the look on his face before I stabbed him…unforgettable.”

               She was shaking now.

                “Do you remember December 12^th, xx24, Lauren? I do. That was the day I killed so many people at once Hanbury street literally ran red with their blood. Must’ve been horrible to clean up.” He dropped her now. He was tired of confessing.

               With ease and nonchalance, he slammed her into the wall and pressed his hand around her throat. She should have left when she had the opportunity. He wouldn’t have followed her. He held her at arm’s length as he felt her nails dig into his arm begging for air but he wasn’t done.

               “Whatever the leader told me to do, I did it. I could strangle you with my bare hands and not shed a single tear,” he said looking at her now.

               She was terrified. Horrified. Surprised. “Why do you seem so surprised?” he shouted at her. “Like you said, ‘I am a monster.’ And I’ve always been like this.”

And just like that something changed in her face and he knew he’d given himself away, and horror, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a while shot through him. He stepped back, away, dropped his hand, and turned away from her to collect himself. He could hear her coughing. What kind of an idiot was he getting that angry? What kind of an idiot was he losing control like that?

               “But that’s not what this is about. Is it?” he said finally, softly, with a dryness meant to wound.  “You’re smart. You wouldn’t have agreed to a deal without being fully aware of the possible consequences. And you knew I couldn’t ignore the leader’s orders. If I don’t act like I’ve always done, he would suspect something is wrong. And then we would both be dead.” He turned to look at her now. This wasn’t about him so why was he taking it so personally. “You aren’t mad because I killed these people. You’re mad because I killed Anslow.”

               “What?” she said with a shock that encouraged him. “How can you say that? How can you say it like that’s all that mattered?”

               Exasperation crept into his voice. “This is about you and what you found in Anslow’s belongings. You’re angry because now, you won’t be able to get anything more out of him.”

               “How can you even claim that’s all this is about?”

               He laughed now. He was laughing at both of them. This was stupid. “How incredibly ironic! You condemn me for my crimes but who’s worse between us, Lauren? The ruthless criminal or the selfish hypocrite?” That was a challenge, begging for a fight.

               It got the rise he wanted, and her face twisted in rage. She bared her teeth, clenched her fist, and moved her lips as if she was going to spit venom back before it was gone, and she gave him nothing but an impassive, “Sure.” She then picked up her coat, and he watched her go.

---

               She walked, stubbornness propelling her, until she was confident, he couldn’t see her before she started running. She wasn’t confident he wouldn’t follow her, and she wanted to be as fast and as far away for him as she could manage. The trees didn’t matter. The rocks didn’t matter.

               He had choked her. He had tried to kill her.

               Lauren almost ran into a tree and leaned against it as she touched her neck. It was still hard to breathe. Hard to speak. She was sure it was bruised but she couldn’t stop shaking.

               “I’ve always been like this.”

               He’d planned to kill her, and he stopped when he’d scared himself. This bothered him. And she was going to know why.

               It was a long walk back to the 11^th district, made longer by the cold, and the rain. She didn’t bother to put her jacket back on. She held herself instead as if it might comfort her.

               She didn’t head straight home. She wanted friends. She wanted company. She didn’t want to be alone.

               She found herself outside of Will’s door and was about to knock when she stopped herself. In two weeks she’d involved Kieran more in her life that she had in months, and where had it gotten her. She wasn’t repeating that mistake.

               Instead, she headed to the patrol gym. Kieran had taken advantage of her. She’d been lax, weak, trusting, and it’d nearly killed her. She was rough with her hands as she wrapped her hands. She let the rage build inside of her as she stalked up to the boxing bag.

               Dozens of people just died because of us and he just—she cracked her fist into the bag as she screamed. We had a deal! Why didn’t he tell me anything! Did none of it matter to him!

                Another fist cracked against the bag and she could feel the arm with the stitches, his stitches, protest. He’s right. She knew. She knew this entire time I made a deal with the devil and yet she trusted him. She cared about him.

                Her muscles were screaming as she wet her fists with blood. You know despite everything she would have tried to understand. But that mocking distain—he didn’t even care did he! This meant nothing to him. I meant nothing to him. Why did I even bother? Did I really believe he might have been--?

                She could hear herself laughing.

                How foolish of her. He’s a monster. But she could admit he had a point, and she hated that. She’d failed. Again. Somehow more spectacularly.

                Eventually, when she’d stained the bag with her blood she collapsed and let the sob that been building finally rush out of her.

===

              At the same time, in a cave not to far away, everything was silent except the gentle lapping of the water. He’d let her go, like he’s promised himself. Still, he clenched his fist and struck the wall where she’d been standing with a scream and force that could have easily broken his fist.

              Fuck. Fuck her. Fuck the leader. Fuck himself. She was smart. She’d figure it out. And all of it. Everything would be for absolutely nothing.

              He stalked to the water and stared at his hands. He shouldn’t have gotten that angry. He should have controlled himself. He’d always, always, managed it before, and he hadn’t, and he’d hurt her, and she’d gotten under his skin. Did she see the same blood on his hands?

              He tightened his hand and grit his teeth. It wasn’t like he was going to get any sleep now. He might as well go report mission success, and have something good come out of this.

             The path to the church took him through the poorer parts of Greychapel, not that it couldn’t get much poorer than the Greychapel as a whole. He avoided almost everyone except a group of orphans in an alley he needed to pass through. They’d have been the same age.

             “Sir, a penny for the poor, please,” one asked.

             Kieran glanced around not as much concerned about getting robbed as someone seeing this kindness. He sighed. “Take this. It should be enough to feed you and your friends for the next two days.” He didn’t want to hear a response.

             The church was old, decrepit, but it had been beautiful and loved once. He glanced to see if he was followed before stepping inside.

             He made straight for the confessional and set in silence for a moment mustering up the Purple Hyacinth. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

Chapter Text

Lauren’s head thrummed with a headache from the blow she’d taken earlier and her eyes were still raw when she arrived at the precinct. Her whole body ached and her shift had barely started. She longed for the pain killers in her desk drawer and the pastry Lila mentioned.

Kym was chipper as always. “Oh! Here she is!” she heard her call. “The last member of our squad! Officer Lauren Sinclair! Lauren, meet the newest addition to our prescient Archivist Kieran White.”

She’d caught his face in profile and she’d felt her breath leave her and her heart jump into her throat. Her fist curled into a ball. Why was he here? What was he playing at? What had he done? He looked like an idiot in those glasses and he was wearing meekness like a wolf amongst sheep. She could feel how tight her throat was and slowly she let the tension go out of her body, but she could still taste blood in her mouth. “I didn’t know we were hiring a new Archivist,” she said in a voice that came out raspy.

Kym cocked her head at her before glancing back at Kieran, then at Lauren, who hadn’t taken their eyes off each other since they’d entered each other’s field of vision. “Well you know how Ms. Lawrence quit, so we needed a new one.”

Lauren hadn’t known she’d quit. It made sense. After Harvey died in the Archive they’d tried to scrub the floors but his blood had pooled and made a stain around the desk. Ms. Lawrence had complained about it constantly. She swore the Archive was haunted. Perhaps it was.

“Oh,” was all she said before walking over to Kieran and offering her hand. She could play at professionalism even if it killed her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Officer Sinclair.” Besides, it put her between him and the rest of the office.

He noticed. He noticed the tension in her shoulders and how her feet were spread apart enough that she could take or throw a punch. He noticed her knuckles were bruised and scabbed. He noticed the bruise on her neck she’d hidden with makeup. He noticed the dark spots under her eyes and how they were red.

“Kieran White,” he said furnishing a hand to shake hers. “I look forward to working with you. Officer Laddell was telling me you almost caught the Purple Hyacinth.”

Her hands didn’t linger in his. He wasn’t lying, but that didn’t mean she understood what he was driving at. “I think she oversells it.”

Kym returned and clapped a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “I do not! You gave use the first credible lead in years!”

“A man between the ages of twenty to thirty doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Lauren said dryly though she detected a hint of a smirk from Kieran.

Kym pouted. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I don’t want to distract you two any further. Thank you Officer Laddel for showing me around,” Kieran said stepping away.

Kym waved. “Not at all! Don’t be a stranger.”

That got a slight smile and a murderous look from Lauren. “I won’t. But I do admit to being a bit lost. Could you direct me back to the Archive?”

“I’ll show you. I’m walking that way,” Lauren said as she snaked out of Kym’s grasp and walk past him.

“Have fun!” Kym called while Lauren waved over her shoulder.

Once they were out of earshot Kieran dropped the persona and laughed softly. “Now I know why your precinct has such trouble catching people.”

Lauren didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him.

“Did you miss me, mon amour?” he asked teasing now.

She still didn’t answer, and she could hear the irritation in how he took in a breath.

“Are you ignoring me? Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

She did, but she was also smart and could guess. Lune was troubling the Phantom Scythe. That’s why the suspects were dead. This prescient had recently had a vacancy for a spy and an archivist provided access to information with little oversight. Kieran had proven himself to be loyal to the leader and his history as a gossip and skill as an assassin made him a good choice. The Phantom Scythe was frightened of Lune and they guessed correctly there was someone inside the police who was the cause. She would be surprised if the police didn’t have their own suspicions and an internal investigation wasn’t already underway. She knew why he was here, but she wasn’t sure what he thought he would find since Lune was dead. He’d killed it.

“Here we are, Mr. White,” she said cordially gesturing to the door of the Archive. “Do you need anything else?”

Kieran narrowed his eyes at her but shook his head. “No. Thank you, officer.”

Lauren didn’t answer but watched as he opened the door and sealed himself into his cell.

When she returned to her desk she could feel she was trembling. Maybe she would get a pastry to stave off the feeling building in her throat. Luckily for her, Kym had been called away so she didn’t need to immediately address any strangeness she might have observed. Luckier still from her desk she could see some of the hallways in front of the Archive. As she got to work she found herself glancing in that direction, but by the time she needed to leave for patrol Kieran hadn’t remerged.

The patrol was hell. She had wanted to stay back, citing illness, to ensure Kieran minded his own business, but she couldn’t. It would be the second time in a week and if her suspicion was right about not only the Phantom Scythe but the police itself searching for Lune she wanted to do nothing that would bring attention to herself. Besides, Kieran might not value human life but he wasn’t stupid enough to kill someone in the middle of the day, in the middle of the police station.

By the time she got back to the precinct, he was already gone, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her plan was to ignore him for as long as possible. She couldn’t win against him physically, or verbally, but she could certainly outlast him when it came to giving him the attention he was craving. If he wanted it he was going to have to work harder than that.
The next day was a silent one. Business proceeded as usual as if there wasn’t a spy in the midst of the precinct. Perhaps Kieran was still learning his new job. Perhaps she’d scared him. She doubted it. He was perturbed by nothing, not even decency.

On the third day mixed in amongst her files was a small note. It arrived when he’d delivered the files that morning to her desk. They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even exchanged looks, outside of the minimal necessary. Even the note itself was work-related. Written in his scrawl were suggestions of things to investigate regarding Flemmings and the port. She’d barely remembered under everything else that had happened in the past few days. Perhaps this was his attempt at an olive branch, testing the water to see if she was still willing to work together. Some part of her wanted to spite him on principle, but she found herself writing back her suggestion. It was curt. It was professional. It was enough.

Notes on files carried on back and forth until they’d assembled a plan to meet at the docks on Saturday to observe a shipment that was supposed to be coming in. They’d established a time and place to meet but they still hadn’t spoken face to face. Nothing had been resolved. It was going to need to be eventually, but she was going to hold out as long as possible.

When her shift was over on Thursday she hit the gym. Between Kieran choking her and the other assailant getting the drop on her and hitting her in the head she had more than one reason to want to practice. She was tired of being taken advantage of and the feeling of her fists hitting the bag gave her tangible proof she was moving forward. All of the people they’d captured were gone but she still had leads, and she focused on that.

After the fourth or fifth strike she felt a tap on her shoulder and on instinct she turned and her fist almost connected the person’s face. Luckily Will stepped out of the way.

“Hey!” he cried as her fist rested where his face had been.

Lauren sighed. “Oh. I’m sorry. You surprised me.”

“I figured,” he said gesturing to where her hand had just been. “You seem tense.”

She was tense. Having Kieran in the office, worrying about what he might do, and actively avoiding him was exhausting. “I’m just tired.” She knew she looked like it. She hadn’t been sleeping and she was sure it showed on her face.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Will asked. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?”

Lauren gave him a small smile. She was tired, and he looked tired too.

“You went home last week after the Purple Hyacinth killed the people Lune brought in and I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

It was said with evenness and without suspicion but the undercurrent of the question lingered between them. So there was an investigation and Will had been tasked with being a part of it. Lauren wouldn’t be surprised if Kym was a part of it two, and the thought of them investigating her hurt her feelings. But they didn’t have anything. The statement was fishing. If they had something tangible this conversation wouldn’t be held in the empty office gym but a windowless room with a cup of coffee and a single lightbulb dangling overhead. He wasn’t asking her, he was trying to give her a credible out while doing his due diligence. She doubted Will would turn her in even if she told him the truth, but if push came to shove and his ability to care for his mother was threatened she wasn’t sure how long that would last for.

“It was shocking to learn,” she admitted covering her chest with her arms. “I’d hoped the police would be able to question them and maybe learn something.”

“So you could find Dylan?”

“Yeah,” she admitted brushing her hair back from her face. “That was the closest I’d been in years and now they’re dead and I’m right back where I started. And we couldn’t even find them without Lune’s help. And how are we going to find anyone else who’s willing to talk when the Phantom Scythe just kills them with no hesitation?”

When had she started crying?

Tentatively Will gathered her up and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “We’ll catch the Purple Hyacinth. He’s an assassin, not a ghost.”

Lauren laughed bitterly and as she did the door swung open and in walked the Purple Hyacinth himself. He sized up the two before coughing and asking, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Will said stepping back and gesturing to the open floor. “Do you want to spar?”

Lauren glanced at Kieran whose face was unreadable. “Sure. You’re welcome to the bag, Mr. White.” She didn’t pay him much attention then while he gave the bag a heartbeat.

It’d been a while since she’d sparred with Will, not in years, not since training. He still had a blind spot on his right side and couldn’t keep his guard if she distracted him.
It started with jabs to gauge the distance. He was taller and his arms were longer, but she was faster, lighter, and much more willing to hit him in the body. She found herself after she’d sidestepped a blow wrapping her arm around his throat and controlling his arm just as Kieran had. She was learning from him, and she wasn’t sure if she liked that.

When she’d released him Will had coughed. “Where’d you learn that?”

“An acquaintance showed me,” she said and she could tell Kieran had stopped and was paying attention. “Think you’ve had enough?”

“I could go for more, but you look dead on your feet.”

He was right. She was swaying. “I’m fine.”

Will cocked his head at her.

She yawned. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t stay out too late.” She caught Kieran’s eye and demanded with a glare that he behave himself.

He didn’t hold the look.

She couldn’t ignore him for days and then expect him to do what she asked.

Will would, should, be fine, Lauren decided before leaving and retreating to the showers.

With her gone Kieran went back to rhythmically assaulting the bag. Sure, he had one at the cave but he had hoped to catch Lauren alone and talk to her. He hadn’t anticipated she would have company especially not William Hawkes, who he was developing a mounting dislike for. She might not have feelings for him but how his eyes lingered after she told a different story. Under different circumstances, he might have felt bad for him. Lauren was good at many things, reading people, was not one of them.

What she was good at, however, was ignoring him. It’d been charming at first. Lauren wasn’t normally one for pettiness, and some part of him enjoyed that she could be just as insufferable as he could be. But that wore thin quickly and now he was seething. He’d tried to talk to her several times, when she’d been getting coffee, or when he gave her files he thought would be useful. Every time she’d ignored him defaulting to treating him like they were strangers. It was frustrating and he hated to admit it but he was lonely. He missed her, and sure he knew this was his fault, and sure he could probably apologize. But he wouldn’t. He wasn’t sorry, and he wasn’t going to lie to her.

“You’re the new Archivist, right?”

Kieran stopped and looked over at Will. We aren’t friends. Why are you talking to me? He pasted on professionalism and meekness which was hard without the glasses. “Yes, I started on Monday.”

Will walked over and offered his hand. “It’s nice to have another archivist again. Officer William Hawkes.”

We’ve met. “Kieran White. Officer Laddell introduced me.” What was that face about?

“How are you settling in?”

God are we actually going to have this conversation. You’re more of a busy body than Officer Laddel. “It’s an adjustment, but I think I can be an asset to the precinct.”

Will nodded and then gestured to the bag. “I’m surprised to see you here. The staff doesn’t normally come here to work out. You don’t look like a bookworm.”

That’s judgmental. But he could hide his physicality at work with glasses and clothing. Without them, the incongruity between his persona and his person became more noticeable. “I like to take care of myself.”

That seemed to satisfy Will before he asked, “So where did you work before this?”

Is everyone in the office this nosy? The corner of Kieran’s lip quirked. “I was a florist.”

He enjoyed the reaction that got from Will.

“Would you like to practice with a person?” Will asked after a beat.

Kieran looked him over and shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”

Will was by no means a bad fighter. Against a similarly skilled opponent he might have fared well, but Kieran was an assassin. Even consciously lowering his skill level to take allow himself to take blows he could have easily avoided he quickly began to outpace Will in both footwork and force. Will would bring his guard down when he jabbed and after one too many easy openings Kieran took the opportunity to pop him in the face. He caught him in the orbit hard enough to bruise but not to break. He might loath him but he doubted Lauren would forgive him doing lasting damage to a friend.

“You alright?” he asked when Will stepped back and held his face.

“Fine,” Will said as he pulled his hand away and blinked.

“Think you’ve had enough?”

“Yes. I think I have. You’re a good boxer. Did you learn it from being a florist?”

“We all have hobbies,” Kieran said drily as he collected his things.

The next morning Lauren was horrified to find Will had a shiner.

“I’m fine,” he said trying to brush Kym off who had offered him a tea that was good for injuries. “Last time I drank one of those you nearly killed me.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t drink all of it,” she said as she fussed over him.

Will grimaced. “If I had I wouldn’t have lived to tell the tale.”

“What happened?” Lauren asked as she set her coat on her chair.

The sheepish look Will gave her spoke volumes. “I sparred with the new archivist and he’s stronger than he looks.”

She’d left them unsupervised and now she was going to have to kill Kieran.

Right on schedule, the man himself arrived with the cart of files. He took one look at Will and the corner of his mouth quirked. “I see it did bruise.”

Glancing between them Kym asked, “Kieran is William bullying you?”

Will made a face at Kym. “I’m who gets hit in the face, and you’re asking him if I’m bullying him.”

“Obviously,” she said. “He’s an archivist. He’s a pencil pusher. You probably started it.”

Will sucked in a breathe but Kieran mercifully rescued him from having to say more.

“No, he offered to spar after Officer Sinclair left and I misjudged the distance between us. I apologize. I hope your eye is alright.”

“It’s fine,” Will said.

Kym went over and collected the stack of files from him before going and handing them out. Will retreated as well leaving Kieran to pass the files he needed off to Lauren by hand.

“Officer Sinclair.”

“Mr. White,” she said taking the file despite glaring daggers at him.

He sighed and retreated with the cart back to his cave.

With his, injury Will was relieved of patrol so it was Lauren and Kym who went out together. They hadn’t made it twenty feet before Kym asked, “Is the new Archivist into you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“He’s always looking at you like he wants to talk to you, and he punched Will in the face.”

“I thought you said Will was bullying him.”

“Please,” Kym said, “Will wouldn’t bully anyone. But he’s cute.”

“Who Will?”

“No! The archivist.”

“I think thou dost protest too much,” Lauren teased. “Lucas said he saw you learning over Will in what he described as “an intimate embrace.””

Kym flushed. “Lucas should mind his own business. But no. The archivist. What’s the deal there?”

“There’s no deal.”

Kym examined her. “Fine. But he ever asks you out you should go. It would be more fun than the dates your Uncle sets you up on.”

“I can’t believe you. You’ve only known him a couple of days and you’re already wing womaning for him.”

Kym looked scandalized. “Excuse you. I am wing womaning for you.”

Kieran was still in the office when they came back from patrol. Lauren stayed behind as well finishing paperwork as one by one the office dwindled down until the only remaining light was the one on her desk, and the one that came from under his door.

Hunger was what finally propelled her to the door of the archive. The files she was working on were sensitive and she couldn’t leave them on her desk. She’d have to go in and talk to him. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

When she opened the door he was sitting at the desk passed the rows of metal shelves. His glasses were off and folded beside him. Though she couldn’t read the name she recognized the file. It was everything they had on the Purple Hyacinth.

“Reveling in your past accomplishments?” she asked as she closed the door behind her.

Kieran recognized the bait in her tone and didn’t rise to the occasion. “There isn’t much here.”

“We don’t know much about you,” she said as she slid the file back into it’s home. “Just who you’ve killed, and that you’re a monster.”

He stood up then and she heard the file close as his chair dragged back against the floor.

When she took a step back, he was in the gap between the shelves close enough to touch. Suddenly the space was small, too small and she stepped back towards the door.

“And what about you officer? A selfish lawman who is more interested in your own personal goals than catching criminals.”

Lauren glared at him and went to say something but stopped herself. “Goodnight Mr. White.”

Before she had time to open the door Kieran had pressed it closed and pinned her against the wall. “Lauren.”

Rage rolled through her followed on the heels of fear as her hand whipped out and caught him by the throat. She dug her nails in around his windpipe as she backed him up and pressed him against the metal shelf. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “Touch me again and I’ll remove your hands from your body. We were partners Kieran and it was more important to you to act like you don’t care than to respect any of the rules you laid out. You withheld information. You asked personal questions. You’ve involved my friends, and you tried to kill me.”

“What about you,” he asked as he put his hand over the one she had around his throat. “You withheld information that nearly got us killed. And would you have honestly wanted me to tell you I had to kill them? You asked me to keep you out of Phantom Scythe business.”

“That wasn’t Phantom Scythe business that was ours,” she snarled before letting go of his neck. “And I would have tried to understand. But it doesn’t matter. You’re here to find Lune, and Lune’s dead, so I don’t know what you think you’re going to find.”

He looked like she slapped him for the withering look he gave her. “Are we over then?” he asked almost sounding pained under the rage.

“Yes,” she said letting out a breath and stepping back. Why did she feel so empty?

“Lauren,” he implored.

“No,” she said. “Don’t.” And after a moment because it was nagging at her she said softly, “It was my parent's car.”

“What?”

“The thing Anslow had. It was a picture of my parent’s car dated from the day of the bombing. It had Tim Sake, the reason I’m not a detective anymore, in the front seat with a four-fingered man. I was told they died in a car crash, but now I’m never going to know because you killed him.”

Why was she telling him this? To make him feel guilty?

Surprisingly, he looked guilty. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t trust you, Kieran. I give to you at all and find a way to fuck it up.”

“I would have asked him,” he said harshly and that cut through her rage for a moment. “If you had told me I would have asked him.”

She could feel herself shaking as her mouth made the words, “Walk me home.”

“What?” he asked surprise evident in his voice.

“You heard me.”

She watched as he accepted the instruction and went to collect his coat. She leaned into the empty space he had occupied and took a deep breath. She shouldn’t do this. This was a terrible idea. He had killed people. He had tried to kill her. But for the same reason, she needed him before she needed him now. Maybe she wanted him to feel guilty and reclaim some of that humanity she sometimes saw in him.

When he returned she straightened back up and ushered him out first. She waited as he locked up the Archive and the front office.

The walk was tense. They didn’t keep pace, her walking ahead, and him strolling to try and keep up with her.

When they got to her door she unlocked and gestured for him to follow her.

“You’re inviting me in?” he asked more confused than ever.

She gave him an exasperated look. “Yes.”

“Won’t someone be awake?”

She stared at him. “The maids are in bed or at home, and my uncle is at a meeting. Now, are you coming in or not?”

Kieran shook his head but followed her. He admired the foyer before following up the stairs, his footfalls making less sound than hers. He followed her all the way to her office before she closed the door behind him. She then crossed the room and pulled a sheet off the wall to expose why they’d come.

It made sense why she’s been able to understand his board. She had one of her own. There were pictures, documents, string, and in the center the face of a boy he recognized.

Dylan Rosenthal. A perpetual pain in his ass.

That wasn’t what Lauren was focusing on though. She pulled a pin out of a smaller polaroid and handed it to him.

“This was the picture.”

He examined it and immediately bile rose in his throat. He could smell the trunk and feel the oppressive heat of bodies all around him. He could feel the thrumming coming back the burning under his skin, until he felt Lauren’s hand over his. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, blatantly. He took a shaky breath and passed the photograph to her wanting it as far from him as possible. “Why am I here?”

Lauren examined him but decided not to press it. “If we’re going to work together, I need to trust you,” she said softly. “Not telling you meant Anslow died without giving me any answers so you’re here to get some.”

She walked away from him then and put the picture back where it’d been. He followed her. “But I’m not going to tolerate you lying to me. If you want to work with me to bring down the Phantom Scythe you want to work with me to bring down the Phantom Scythe.”

Kieran glanced at her sideways and then at the board. He sighed. “What if I don’t want to?”

Lauren sucked in a breath before shrugging. “Then good luck questioning subjects on your own.”

He sighed. He didn’t like this. He hated this in fact, but if it was the price of working with her, of keeping her in his life, he was prepared to pay it. “So, you want my help solving this?” he said gesturing to the board.

“Yes.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “You have a deal.”

“I have conditions.”

“Of course, you do,” he whispered.

“All information will be shared. I don’t want any surprises.”

“Even when I’m asked to kill people?” he asked. It would happen again.

He watched her struggle with that before she said, “Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The good cop wants to be involved in Phantom Scythe business?”

She made a face at him. “I’m already involved, but I won’t have you surprising me again.”

He clicked his tongue and shrugged. “Fine. What else?”

“You will not hurt me again.” She glared at him with deadly seriousness.

He couldn’t hold her gaze. “Fine.”

“Finally, you answer my questions.”

He hissed through his teeth. “Fine. But I have my own condition. If I say leave it you leave it alone.”

“Fine. Do we have a deal?”

He laughed. Leave it to Lauren to bully him into a deal. “Should I cut my hand again?”

She rolled her eyes before shaking her head. “No. That didn’t stop you last time, why would it matter now?”

Hurtful, but true.

Before he could make a snide remarked she reached out and placed a hand over his heart. “Swear on your life. Because you either want this or you don’t.”

The intensity in her eyes would have humbled a lesser man, but he held it as he did the hand she’d placed over his heart. “I swear to you.”

“Good,” she said and this time her hand lingered in his. She pulled away then they heard a door open downstairs.

“That’s my cue to go,” Kieran said walking to the window and opening it.

“Wait, Kieran,” Lauren said, “Thank you.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Don’t say that. You’ll make me think you like me.” And then he was out the window and gone.

“But I do,” she whispered into the empty room.

It was her uncle who had arrived and announced himself with a wrap at the door.

“Come in.”

“You’re still awake?” he asked when he saw her.

“I just got home.”

Tristan grimaced. “Ren, I admire your tenacity but there’s such a thing as working too hard.”

Lauren glanced at the board and her eyes fell on Dylan. “No. There’s not.”

Tristan came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Fine. But not tonight. Go to bed.”

Lauren looked at him and yawned. “Alright. Good night uncle.”

Tristan gave the board one last lingering look before he said, “Good night Ren.”

Chapter Text

Though it was technically his day off Kieran went into work regardless. It was a police station so it was by no means empty but he wouldn’t have to contend with nearly the amount of people coming in and out of the archives as he normally did. And he wanted to be alone. At this point he had a good handle on his position within the precinct, filing and pulling archives was not challenging, but he wanted to finish reading the files he’d taken out.

He could have just taken them. Considering how disorganized the precinct was he doubted anyone would notice. Frankly, he doubted anyone would care. It seemed as though each detective nursed their own private reasons for combating the street level evil they faced daily. He’d read each of their work. Lauren’s he was familiar with, so he’d neglected hers, though he had read a smattering of her work within larger cases. William, irritating as he might be, took fastidious notes and seemed to have a good understanding of the whole of a case. He’d be problematic. Kym noticed relationships and patterns. Also, problematic. Lucas wrote with a dry curt style that focused on describing the scene in detail, and Harvey was dead, so he didn’t matter. He’d even read Herman’s early work, which didn’t surprise him why he ran a precinct, nor that March was a head detective. They were excellent detectives, and if he was going to outwit them, he needed to know them. Someone would eventually need to be Lune, should they present enough of a problem. He couldn’t imagine Lauren would be thrilled with that idea. Frankly, he was surprised Davenport hadn’t been asked to do this job. This seemed to be her show after all. Not that he minded. Honestly keeping distance between her and Lauren seemed the best choice possible. But having him do this, and with erasing Lune’s conquests, carried a troubling weight of unrest that carried far beyond surface level, and should the chips fall he wondered what side Davenport would fall on. She was in it for herself first and foremost after all.

He’d finished reading the ones on the Purple Hyacinth. There was laughably little information. Still, he’d enjoyed reading Lauren’s account of meeting him and how much she’d held back. He’d read the files on Anslow, Flemmings, and various other murders, and dealing he knew was connected to the Phantom Scythe that might have eluded law enforcement. He’d even read Tim Sake’s file and reading the account of Lauren’s reaction he could see why she was demoted; he was surprised she hadn’t been fired.

Which brought him to the real reason he was here. If asked he would say he was getting to know his job, but no the real reason was after his little trip with Lauren to her home, to her board, he guessed correctly that the train bombing stood at the heard of her query. And he wasn’t ready to answer questions about it yet. He’d have to tell her about his involvement eventually, but he intended to hold it at bay for as long as possible with half-truths and shades of gray stolen from source material. He knew she’d ask though. She had a habit of trapping him with questions. He wasn’t the only one talented at emotional manipulation it seemed.

He got to the archive with no trouble, barely even a greeting, and had finished the last of the file when the door opened. He leaned back in his chair to seem Officer Laddell placing a file on the shelves. She seemed just as surprised to seem him, even pleased, which was odd.

“Mr. White isn’t today your day off?” she asked walking over to him and half sitting, half leaning on the desk he sat in front of.

He tapped the file with the back of his hand. “I wanted to finish what I was working on.”

She glanced at it but even within reading the writing on the manila folder, she recognized the file. She’d seen it often enough on Lauren’s desk. Her face grew dark braced with her own internal experience before she grinned at him.

He noticed.

“I’m glad you’re here. You like Lauren, right?”

She did notice patterns alright. Kieran went with a meek shocked expression as his reaction. It seemed to best fit the character he portrayed at work, the slightly awkward, polite, studious archivist. He debated his answer for longer. Coy didn’t seem to fit, and she seemed to be offering something which if he agreed could create an opportunity to press for more information. Also, it would piss of William, and though he no longer wished bodily harm upon the man, irritating him provided endless entertainment. Something he seemed to share with the officer. Besides, she was Lauren’s friend, and he was trying to remain in her newly found good graces.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked as he took off his glasses and wiped his face to hide a blush that may or may not have risen in his cheeks.

This seemed to appease the goblin who he could hear grinning. “You kept trying to talk to her.”

Kieran returned his glasses and looked appropriately morose. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Kym frowned and gave him a once over. He wasn’t bad looking, and if Lauren had a type, he’d fit it. He was at least better than the nobleman Tristan tried to hook her up with. She’d met some of them and they were weasels through and through. “She’s tough. I even suggested she go for it if you asked her out.”

That got genuine surprise from him. “I…thank you. Why would you go that far for me? You barely know me?”

Kym shrugged before clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You seem like a decent person. I have a good sense about these things.”

Kieran grinned. “Do you want something in return? I could try and set you up with William if you’d like?”

Kym recoiled burning in the face her hands a blur. “No! No thank you! I’m fine.”

Kieran leaned in pressing his advantage as he bridged his hands in front of him. “It’d be no trouble. Just of shuffling of case assignments that happen to put you two on patrol together. Nothing fancy. I doubt he’d even notice.”

Kym looked like she had swallowed a frog and was trying to decide if she liked the taste. “Why would you do that? You punch him.”

“I thought you said he was bullying me.”

“William had never bullied anyone in his life.”

“He bullies you.”

If blushed could get darker it would. Kym hopped off his desk and headed to the door before he could stop her. “Well let me know if you need any help with Lauren.”

“I will,” he said savoring her discomfort. “And let me know if you change your mind about the Sergeant.”

He heard her squeak and stop at the door. He had her on the hook, all he had to do was reel in.

“I’ll consider it,” she said soft enough he could barely hear before out she went.

With her gone, he leaned back in his chair and laughed. Working at the precinct wouldn’t be boring indeed.

---
Even in her jacket the frigid air of the ocean at the docks made Lauren shiver. Even though it’d only been a week's absence it felt strange to don the hat and mask of Lune and set out to meet Kieran. She’d planned to talk to him more yesterday, or this morning, but hadn’t due to her uncle’s interference. He knew something, much more than he let on, and she suspected it related directly to her search for Dylan. The photo of her parent’s car wouldn’t have shaken him so sufficiently if it hadn’t.

It was odd working with him again, expecting him. Excited wasn’t the word she’d use but he’d been a notable absence in her life. She’d thought things would have gone back to normal if she didn’t talk to him, but she’d felt oddly lonely, and now she wasn’t sure how she felt about him now that he was back as a regular fixture of her life.

Always inconvenient Kieran arrived looking much more himself than he did around the precinct. It was the confidence and swagger he minded to keep himself nonthreatening. Not that it seemed to stop the women of the office from gushing over him privately. Lauren didn’t involve herself in that but it irked her for a reason she couldn’t put her finger on. Perhaps it was how she knew it would inflate his ego, and make him even more insufferable.

“Good evening, mon amour, what have you got for me?” he asked with a grin before he tugged his mask up and over his face.

She sent him a droll look before gesturing to the warehouse doors they could see from the alley. “I’ve only seen two people so far. They look like guards. There’s a light on in the back so I presume at least one more person, possibly the owner. The easiest way in is through the skylight, which we can get to from this building. I took the liberty of getting the lock already.”

“You’ll make a proper criminal already,” he said teasingly. “Shall we then?”

Lauren nodded before moving towards the door and stopping. “There’s another thing. Last week after we—I ran into Tim Sake, and he was with someone, a woman.”

The color drained from Kieran's face. “What did she say?”

“’ The Purple Hyacinth may have beat me to the other four idiots but I’ll be more than happy to finish the job the second you step out of line.’ That’s all I remember before I passed out. She hit me in the back of the head with something.”

Kieran took a step away from her, back into the alley, and turned so she could see his face. She could feel the fury radiating off him, though its direction was unclear. “That’s Davenport, the Golden Viper, the one that killed your coworker, Harvey, and you just waltzed into an alley with her,” he muttered under his breath.

“I was doing my job.”

“You could have died,” he hissed as he turned around and she could see the brightness of his eyes in the dark.

Her heart found it’s way to her throat but she steadied herself. They’d had a conversation like this before, in much the same kind of setting, and if she was confident then she could be confident now. “I didn’t though,” she said, but it wasn’t petulant. It spoke into the silence the question she’d been asking herself since it’s happened. Why didn’t she kill me? She remembered more, Davenport citing too many witnesses, but when had the Phantom Scythe cared about witnesses.

He studied her, cold and impenetrable, for a moment before looking away and walking towards the door his frightful aura wafting away. “Let’s not have a repeat performance of that shall we. You were lucky once. I doubt you’ll be lucky again. And it’s best you avoid Tim Sake. Him seeing us together would present a problem if we were recognized.”

“I think it’d present a problem if we were recognized at all,” she said with a small smile.

That got a smile in return and they were moving again. Davenport and the mystery of why she wasn’t dead could be solved later.

Getting on the roof wasn’t hard. Lauren had scaled a building to chase Kieran the first time they’d met so climbing stairs and hopping between buildings wasn’t much of a challenge. Climbing on the roof, however, was. It was riveted pieces of metal that offered no purchase for her feet. On more than one occasion Kieran had to grab her by her collar to keep her from sliding until she realized she could use the rivets as footholds the way he was doing.

When they got to the skylight, Kieran slightly cracked it open, enough he could see and slide his body through with minimal hassle. It was three levels with catwalks crisscrossing the floor, and stairs leading from level to level. Still, he could see to the floor and the stack of something, he assumed boxes from the shape, draped in a tarp. The light came from the manager's office as Lauren suspected where the owner, one Emilia Fischer, associate of Ryan Flemmings, or more importantly the Phantom Scythe, sat pouring over something. If they’d had more time he wanted to question her, but he did so with ambivalence because while the information could be valuable the higher they climbed in the organization the more likely his voice might be recognized, and it wasn’t as though they could arrest anyone. They’d sent no calling card. And considering the message he himself had left Lune, law enforcement involvement didn’t seem to have merit.

When the guard nearest him passed Kieran jumped and landed without nary a sound. In a few fluid motions he had his arm around the man’s neck and he was cold, a mass of limp flesh. As he stowed the body so he wouldn’t be seen easily Lauren joined him. He was surprised she didn’t check to make sure the man was still breathing. He was reasonably confident he was.

Producing her camera from her pocket, Kieran and Lauren set about their separate tasks. Kieran neutralized threats, while Lauren made her way down to the boxes.

When they met back up Lauren was kneeling beside the box knife in hand. She’d pried a plank free enough that they could peer inside. They were both surprised by the contents. They’d assumed weapons if revolution was the aim. Instead, they were small vials, not quite the length of her hand, filled with a green liquid. While she snapped photos of the logo, postage, and the vials, Kieran pulled one out before she could stop him.

“Kieran—” she hissed, but already he’d held it far from his body and uncorked it.

Nothing happened.

Pulling it closer, gingerly, he wafted it towards his nose and she was surprised to see he didn’t wrinkle it.

“It smells like…sugar?”

They didn’t have long to dwell on the green sugar liquid before the door to the warehouse was opening and both ducked behind the stack of boxes. Lucky for Kieran he’d managed to recork the vial and place it in his trench pocket.

Two pairs of feet crossed the concrete heading for the stairs. One was sharp like a stiletto and the other had the heaviness of boots.

Kieran tapped his head against the boxes and closed his eyes. Avoiding Davenport was too much to ask apparently.

While Kieran was privately panicking Lauren stole a look and panicked herself. She didn’t recognize the woman, though she suspected she was the infamous Davenport, since the man in front of her was an “old friend.” Tim Sake was here and that presented problems.

Luckily the pair didn’t head toward them and instead began to climb the stairs. Lauren and Kieran took the opportunity to shuffle down the boxes and make a break for the door the pair had entered through.

They heard the door open above them and a woman’s voice call, “You’re late, Time. Got caught up in the police again.”

Lauren could feel Kieran staring a hole in the back of her head.

She heard Tim Sake grumble and Davenport said something she couldn’t hear since they were already slipping away into the shadows.

They’d almost reached the door when the body was discovered and the woman started screaming.

Lauren didn’t look back. She yanked the door open and ran knowing Kieran was right behind her. She charged along the pier, without a plan, they should have had a plan, towards the edge, and jumped.

Kieran was right behind her, hot on her heels.

He didn’t see Davenport jump from the second floor. He didn’t see her land. But he did feel the knife the skimmed past his head close enough that luck played a part in his survival.

He chased Lauren to the edge hoping she had a plan and jumped himself. And as he lept the edge of his coat came up, shaking the contents of the vial, which exploded with a crack even Lauren could hear. He didn’t scream, but the gasp as he hit the water already freezing enough to rob his lungs, began to fill them. He’d gone deep, and it was dark, and cold, and it hurt, and he was getting very still.

Davenport chased them to the edge of the pier but stopped and shielded her face from the blast. She ran to the edge of the pier to stare into the inky blackness that smoothed now that they were both under. They would have to surface eventually.

Tim Sake arrived a moment later panting. “Where’d they go?!”

She gestured to the water.

“Why didn’t you follow them?!” he shouted at her.

“Be my guest.”

Tim Sake glanced at the water before his hand whipped out and across her face.

The knife she was holding found its way to his throat and she considered slitting it here and now. The police whistles prevented her. The explosion had caught the attention of a local patrol.

Grumbling Tim Sake retreated inside, but Davenport lingered for a second to see if they’d surfaced before joining him. She’d only briefly seen the one in front. They were slight of a build, almost slight enough to be a woman, or perhaps a much younger man. The one in back had a more robust build almost like…she truly hoped Kieran was minding his own business and wasn’t putting his nose places it didn’t belong.

In the water, Lauren was struggling. The freezing depths grabbed hold of her clothes and made her struggle to move in the dark. Her limbs were heavy and holding her breath when everything in her wanted to expel it was exhausting. And she could see Kieran. When she found him, he was listing, leaking a trail. She grabbed him and dragged him under the shoulder far from the pier, and the beach, and the Phantom Scythe to safer shores. They were still within walking distance but hopefully far enough.

The beach began under the pier so she needn’t worry about prying eyes as she dropped him half in the water, as far up as she could get him, the sound of police whistles a background him to buzzing in her ears. She dropped to her knees in the wet sand and checked his breathing. Nothing. Pulse. Weak and thread. She pressed tilted his head up and poured her air into him. He couldn’t die. Not here. Not like this. She’d kill him. What a monumentally stupid way to die. How could he leave her alone like this? Kieran rolled over and coughed, vomited, the water out of his lungs and she could have sobbed in relief.

Kieran dug his fingers into the sand as she reoriented himself to living. It’d been a brief gap, but not something he’d like to try again. Still, it would have been worth it for the way Lauren looked when he rolled back over. Framed by the moonlight she looked like an angel. He covered his face from her brilliance and laughed though it came out more like a wet cough. “So I know what the liquid is.”

She didn’t care. She pushed him down into the water and sand and straddled him. Her lips found his, the only warm part of them, while his hands were in her hair and around her waist pulling her into him. They were freezing, shaking, but she still tugged off her jacket as she ground her hips into his. He moaned as she was fumbling with his belt when a cough broke the reverie.

Lauren and Kieran broke apart and looked up to see Lucas staring at both of them holding a flashlight and looking like he was in hell. “I didn’t know I was interrupting a private moment. See you back at the office, Lauren. Mr. White.”

Lauren looked like she was ready to join him there. She went to get up and scramble after him, but Kieran pulled her back down and kissed her. Quickly she pushed him off and glared. “He’s going to tell the whole office!”

“Let him.”

She fumed in embarrassment until her weight shifted and he let out a hiss of pain.

“Oh shit your side. You’re injured.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

She might have slapped him if he wasn’t already injured. She got off him and pulled his shirt up so she could examine the injury. There was glass in his side, and she suspected more in his leg, though she didn’t trust herself to remove them in this context. She splashed his side with the water, earning a hiss, but it seemed to help clear the blood and cool the burn. Most importantly there was a nasty bruise and she’d be surprised if his rib wasn’t broken. Lauren pulled off her shirt and gave it to him to press against his side. He took it with no complaint.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not great.”

He made a face and groaned. “It’s nitroglycerin.”

That would explain the smell. But it was a highly reactive liquid. Why would they need so much of it? What were they planning for their revolution?

Those questions could wait. Both of them were freezing. Their lips were blue and she could feel her teeth chattering. She’d need to get the glass out and treat the burns.

“Can you stand?” she asked as she got to her feet and offered him a hand.

“Do I have a choice?” he growled as he got to his feet without her help but still needed to lean against the dock support once he was up.

Lauren collected her jacket, before collecting him and setting off for the cave. He was limping so this was going to be a long walk.

Chapter Text

Bloody, dirty, and exhausted Lauren deposited Kieran in the bed before going to find painkillers, a candle, and supplies. It’d been a painful walk for both of them. At first, he’d been able to walk with reasonable ease despite his limp, but as they got further, and the road got rougher it became harder and harder for him. He’d leaned more against her, and even on one occasion tripped and she’d almost hurt herself trying to steady him. She was going to be bruised. She wasn’t looking forward to that. At least they weren’t freezing anymore. Soaked yes, but freezing no. The little miracles of walking a hard mile.

It didn’t occur to Lauren until she found and lit the candle where she’d decided to take Kieran. She could have taken him back to her home. It’d been closer but it hadn’t occurred to her. Besides, what would she do if her uncle came home? She could have taken him to his apartment, it was further, but the walk was easier. But no she took him here because this was the space they had together. The space they shared. The space he’d choked her in last time she was here. He seemed to realize that too and it hung in the air as she brought the supplies over.

“Take this,” she said handing him four pain pills and water.

He obliged with ease before he tried to take his shirt off and promptly regretted it.

“Stop! You’ll hurt yourself!” she snapped at him and smacked his hands.

He glared like a chided child before letting her take it off for him and tossing it on the floor.

“You’re wet too,” he grumbled.

“I’m not who’s bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

Lauren reached out and lightly pressed on the bruise and he gave a muted scream of pain before grabbing her hand eyes a bright blue.

“I’m going to take the glass out. Lift your hips.”

Kieran sighed and let go of her hand so she could tug his pants off and add them to the pile as well her soiled shirt.

Her shirt had done some to control the bleeding, but it hadn’t prevented the wounds from reopening. Lauren poured alcohol into a rag before cleaning the new blood off from around his wounds. He flinched but otherwise didn’t make a sound. Once they were cleaned she used tweezers to get the glass out of his chest before handing him an ice pack to put over his bruise while she started on his hip.

“Do you think Davenport recognized you?” she asked when she started on his hip, pulling, wrapping, applying burn cream as she went.

Kieran hummed thoughtfully before sighing loud enough that he winced. “It’s possible.”

“How familiar is she with your shape?” Lauren asked without thinking about it until she looked up and realized how jealous that sounded.

Kieran was wearing a shit-eating grin. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“No.” Fuck.

“’ If we’re going to work together, we can’t lie to one another,’” he quoted with an ever-widening grin. “You know we are going to half to talk about that eventually?”

“That?”

“We could pick up where we left off before Lucas interrupted us.”

There was a blush building. “You’re injured.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Lauren put away the supplies and went to get up but Kieran caught her by her wrist. Slowly, she pulled off his hand and left him sitting there wondering if he’d pushed her too hard. She put the supplies away but realized her hands were shaking. It’d been adrenaline earlier, but she still wanted to do something, but he was inured, but he was attractive. She’d tried not to think about it while she was treating his injuries but he was mostly lean muscle and if the bulge in his pants were anything to speak for he wasn’t small.

This was a terrible idea.

When Lauren came back to the bed, she pulled off her jacket, pants, and panties before crawling between his legs.

She was pleased to see Kieran was surprised but she had to grab him by the shoulder to stop him from dragging himself into a sitting position.

“Stop! Stop hurting yourself!”

“Laure, I’m fine. And if we’re doing this I’d prefer to be up for it.”

“We’re not.”

“What?” he asked looking her naked form up and down and admittedly a little blue balled.

“I’m not having sex with you, Kieran,” Lauren said as she cupped his stiffening length through his underwear.

“Then what are you—oh!” he felt her lightly rub along the side. “Ok. Sure.”

“Are you blushing?” she asked grinning at him more than a little pleased as she pulled the underwear off his hips so she could touch him directly.

“It’s the light.”

“Sure it is,” she said before propping him up in her hand. Penis’s were weird. “When we did this…last time. I wasn’t great. Tell me what you like.”

Kieran blinked at her. “You want me to tell you how to stroke and suck me off.”

“Yes.”

Kieran covered his face with his hand and she could feel how much harder he got. “Sure. Yes. Absolutely. Alright.”

Lauren went to spit in her hand and hearing the noise Kieran moved his hand and stared at her.

“What are you doing?”

“You use spit for lube right?” Lauren asked like it was obvious.

Kieran stared at her like she’d gained ahead. “Lauren, I have lube.”

“Oh,” was all she said now feeling silly.

Kieran shook his head and pointed to the dresser beside the bed.

Instead of getting up, like a reasonable person, Lauren leaned over him to fish the bottle out, giving him, what he would swear was an intentional good view of her body. She was fucking with him.

Bottle in possession Lauren poured some into her hand before giving him a few quick strokes.

“Like this?”

“You’re not going to hurt me if you squeeze harder.”

Lauren rolled her eyes and tightened up until she saw him wince. “Too much?” she asked almost teasing.

“No, you’re fine.”

Again, she gave him a quick stroke and raised an eyebrow. “So, are you going to tell me what to do or…?”

Realizing she was serious he gritted his teeth flopped his head back and growled, “Keep doing it like you are just…faster.”

She grinned and increased the speed a little enough she could hear his breathing getting a little shaky. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“What else?”

“Touch…the head… fuck.” She’d done as he’d asked immediately and he could barely suppress the moan.

He wasn’t as cool as he thought he was. Using both hands now she stroked him under he tried to buck his hips.

She thought she’d used the right hand but no she’d grabbed his injured hip, digging her nails in when she held him down. “I thought I asked you to hold still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and his voice was shaking even more from the moan he couldn’t contain when she’d dug into him.

Curious she grabbed and pressed where he was bruised and he almost screamed but she could feel him twitch in her hand. “Subordinate, do you like it when I hurt you?” she teased.

“No.”

“You’re lying to me,” she whispered as she pressed again.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.”

He looked wretched but she couldn’t just tease him forever. Lauren popped his tip between her lips and ran her tongue along the edge. She felt him grab her hair not to stop her or pull her back so she took on more until she was almost gagging and he was shaking.

“Lauren I—” He didn’t finish. Well, he did, in her mouth, which she swallowed with a cough.

It took him a second to check back in because he was seeing spots until she flopped down next to him clearly pleased with herself. They used it to catch their breathe though neither one was interested in dealing with any of that.

“Let me do you,” he asked when his voice wouldn’t come out croaky.

“You don’t need to,” Lauren said despite how slick she knew her thighs were.

Kieran implored her with his eyes. “I want to.”

“Well if you want to I can’t deny you that subordinate,” she said sitting up.

He grinned. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

“What?”

He sighed and tapped where he wanted her to put her legs.

“Won’t that hurt you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Lauren.”

Lauren worried her lip before doing what he asked. She straddled his shoulders so his head was sandwiched between her tighs and when she leaned down he had access to her wet slit.

“Kieran, are you sure you’ll be able to—ah!” she gasps as he flicked his tongue along her. Fine if he wanted to suffocate she’d let him.

She lowered her hips as she found he buried his face in her. With well-practiced ease he found her clit and began to nurse it with his tongue. He batted and stroked while she let out throaty moans and gripped the headboard. Eventually, he needed to breathe but he could feel her legs shaking and “K-Kieran,” she wailed as she spilled in his mouth, in his eyes. She’d nearly drowned him, again.

She too, needed a moment to recover before she swung her legs over and off him. “Are you ok?”

He coughed. “You tried to drown me.”

She hit him in the face with a pillow. “Ass.”

He grinned and used the pillow to wipe his face. When he could see again he could tell she was sulking, and using his limited range of motion he pulled her to him and into his lips.

Lauren curled against him, careful to not put any pressure on his injuries, as she kissed him. Even without exploring his mouth with her tongue, which she did, she could taste herself on him, and she wasn’t bad.

When they pulled apart they were panting and both looked a mess. Even without looking she could feel him thrumming against her leg. “You’re insatiable.”

“You’re attractive,” he said fingers laced in her hair before pulling her in again.

This time when they broke apart he whispered, “We could do more.”

She wanted to, really, really wanted to, and honestly, she was considering it despite his injury, but instead, she said, “No. This has been a lot of firsts and I want to do this slowly.”

Kieran could respect that though she had been who had jumped him first, not that he minded. “Wait what do you mean firsts?”

Lauren blushed. “I haven’t done any of this before.”

He blinked. “The hand job and blow job I understand but you’ve never—”

“I’ve never done anything with anyone.”

Oh. Oh. Wait. “Wait. Not even kissed someone?”

“I mean yes, but I was in grade school and that doesn’t count.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Why does this bother you?”

It didn’t. It shouldn’t. It did. It definitely did. That was a lot of first to have with him, a monster, or all people.

“I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you were that innocent.”

Lauren rolled her eyes at him. “I’ve read books.”

“Oh?”

She glared at him. “Kym loaned me some.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised she owns some. You know she came to see me in the Archive to offer to help set me up with you.”

Lauren both sighed and laughed. “She tried the same with me…I think she and Will are investigating people who might be Lune.”

And just like that, they were back to business.

“Do they suspect you?”

Lauren examined the flame for a while before saying, “I don’t think so. I’m not sure even if they did they’d arrest me.”

“Do you want me to kill them?”

That earned a murderous look at he returned with steely honesty. “Someone’s going to eventually have to be Lune, Lauren. Eventually, the Phantom Scythe is going to want results.”

“You’re not killing my friends,” she hissed her hand straying near his throat close enough he could recall when she’d tried to choke him.

“I won’t,” he said he took her hand and brought his lips to her wrist.

She held him like that before sighing. “What are you going to do about Belladonna?”

Kieran sighed. Originally he’d planned on framing her as part of Lune but he couldn’t do that now. “I don’t know, but I’m sure the messenger won’t be happy.”

“Tell them you were with me.”

“What?”

“Tell them you were with me. That I’m your girlfriend and you’re using me to get more information out of my uncle, and if they expect you to be on the lookout for Lune you need to know what they’re doing.”

It hurt Kieran to hear Lauren talk about herself so coldly but she had a point. “And you’re fine with that.”

Lauren sighed. “Lucas already saw us so it’s going to be all of the Prescient tomorrow.”

“No,” he said. “You’re fine being my girlfriend.”

“I,” Lauren stopped and considered. She hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t thought about of a lot of this and look what kind of trouble that had gotten her in. She worried her lip before she said, “Yes. Though you calling me your girlfriend sounds weird.”

He rolled his eyes. “What else would I call you my lover?”

“No! You’re boss.”

“I hired you!”

“You would be useless without me.”

Kieran glared though not angrily. “I wouldn’t be injured.”

“As you might recall you put the bottle in your pocket against my direction,” she chastised. “And who fixed you up?”

“I could have done it myself.”

“You’re impossible,” she said before sighing. Then a nagging thought occurred to her. “Kieran, how do you know Dylan?”

Of course, the best sex she’d ever had, even agreed to be his girlfriend, and she brought up Dylan. Thrilling.

“You ran into Tim Sake what did he tell you?” Kieran said trying not to sound bitter.

“He mentioned he hadn’t been alone in my parent’s car, so there were kids in there with him and I’m assuming one of them was Dylan, and one of them was you.”

He could smell the car, the burlap bag that meant he could barely breathe, and—Lauren brushed against him and his eyes flicked her direction. She was waiting. Hours in the archive and of course she would ask something like this. She was after all a capable detective.

“We were both kidnapped that day, but I didn’t know his name until later. Belladonna too. We grew up together.”

“They trained you to be assassins,” Lauren asked without asking her throat tight to learn that Dylan might have outlived the explosion.

Kieran didn’t answer but his nonanswer spoke volumes.

“When was the last time you saw him?” she asked trying not to sound too excited.

“A couple years ago. We haven’t spoken since I took off his finger.”

“You what?!”

Kieran winced and tapped his ring finger. “If you fail egregiously they take your ring finger. So it’s obvious to everyone how you messed up.”

“And you…but he was alive. And you haven’t seen him since?”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

He didn’t expect her to kiss him. Honestly, he’d assumed she’d hit him, yell at him, leave, not this, not thank him.

“Thank you. I thought he died, but he was alive, could be still alive,” she whispered. When had she started to cry?

“He’s not going to be the kid you remember,” Kieran said trying desperately to pop that he was jealous of.

“I know. I figured. He’s just…he was alive. Thank you, Kieran,” she whispered before leaning down and kissing him.

He pulled her into him like he could drown out Dylan with effort, but eventually, she pulled away and yawned.

“Sleep here.”

Lauren sleepily blinked at him and sighed. “I don’t know why I don’t just leave a set of clothes here.”

“You can.”

“I might,” she sighed haven given up on this not becoming a habit.

Kieran however, was touched as she could up in the sheets and dimmed the lights. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he said as she left him in the dark with whirling thoughts. She knew. She knew he knew Dylan, and he had been alive, and she’d stayed, here with him, made out with him, agreed to be his girlfriend, and wanted him, not Dylan, and there was no way in hell he was getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter Text

The next morning came slowly but without the usual harshness that might have woken Lauren up if she’d been at home. It was Sunday so there’d be no maids banging at her door but her alarm would have risen her at the crack of dawn. But that wasn’t what woke her.

               Kieran shifted against her back and tightened his hold of her waist. Even injured he’d still ended up on his side and this time she’d had the sense to force him to be the person on the inside. She wasn’t sure how she would have crawled over him.

               Sun streamed in through the cage doors and Lauren assumed it was late morning early afternoon.

               She was about to get up and start her day when she felt him shift behind her. She was surprised he had this kind of enthusiasm so early in the morning. She surprised herself by grinding against him.

               Lucky for her he didn’t wake up. She couldn’t imagine what he’d say, no that was a lie, she could, and it was embarrassing. Still, that didn’t stop her.

               She slipped her fingers between her legs and wandered between her folds until she found the source of her problem. She had to cover her mouth with her hand as she rubbed and explored and ground on him. When she was slick enough, she reached between her legs and lifted one so she could fit him between her thighs.

               That woke him.

               “Darling, you couldn’t even wait until I was awake, could you?” he murmured as he squeezed her tighter with his arm and arched his hips against hers.

               She had to suppress a moan. “You’re feeling better I take it.”

               “I feel fantastic,” he purred into her ear as he nipped her ear and ground against her.

               “Don’t hurt yourself,” she growled before Kieran stuck his fingers in her mouth and spread it open.

               “Shush. I’ll be fine,” he said with a grin as he ground into her once more. “Let me worry about that.”

               She bit him.

               “Ow.”

               “If you don’t get better how are you going to fuck me?” she said as she took his finger and nibbled on them. “But since you’re awake and that enthusiastic are you going to get to it or not.”

               Goddamn, this woman.

               Kieran snaked his hand out of hers so he could skate down her body, brushing her nipple as he went before settling on her clit. She wrapped a leg over his to give him more room before he ground into her.

               Between her thighs wasn’t as tight, or as wet as he imagined she might be, and he was tempted, holy tempted to guide himself up into her, it’d be easy, she was wet and willing, but he didn’t. She wanted to savor this, and hell if he was going to stop her, not for the way she looked right now, and utter beautiful mess.

               Still, she whined as he slid between her thighs, pressing down on him as if she could keep him.

               “Do you want something?”

               “Fuck you, Kieran.”

               He laughed and sunk his teeth into the hollow of her neck.

               He finished on the sheets and left her panting. He’d counted one, maybe two if her legs had anything to say about it. He was about to roll over onto his back, which was a mistake and he knew it, but Lauren surprised him by rolling over towards him and pulling his mouth down into hers.

               She was all lips, and suction, and teeth, her leg wrapped around his as she ground against him. She was enthusiastic this early in the morning, or afternoon, whenever.

               Finally, when he had to breath he pulled back, lips bruised and aching. “I thought you wanted to wait.”

               Lauren growled, almost whined, before rolling away, and getting out of bed.

               Oh, she was pissed with him now. Perhaps more than when he’d killed everyone in the tower…no, definitely less. He couldn't confidently flatter himself that much.

               “Lauren,” he said as he sat up and promptly winced. The burns, and cuts weren’t the problem. The broken rib was impairing his range of movement, but with enough painkillers, it shouldn’t be a problem.

               “What?” she snapped as she grabbed her pants and had them half on. Somehow she looked better half-dressed like that, like a present to unwrap.

               “Do you want a shirt?” he asked as he gestured to her ruined one.

               Her eyes followed where he pointed and sighed. He could hear her mutter under her breath, “I should just leave stuff here if this is going to be a problem.”

               He got up and went over to the dresser. He had several black shirts that no longer fit. He was tempted to give her a white one, tempted to give her a one with a low cut, but he’d learned his lesson after last time, and he doubted he could stand the thought of sending her home in that.

               Shirt in hand he presented it to the demon who had made a lair of his cave.

               She took it from him before muttering, “I’m sorry.”

               “What was that?” he asked pressing his luck.

               “You heard me.”

               He grinned at her and hesitantly reached out a hand to brush her hair out of her face. She let him.

               “There will be more opportunities where I can be more…enthusiastic.”

               That earned a smile. “You were plenty enthusiastic this morning.”

               “Says the woman who started while I was asleep.”

               A blush came over her and he watched as she tried to think of something to say and failed. He rarely saw her at a loss for words. “Get dressed,” she finally mumbled before tossing his shirt on.

               Dressing was painful. The bending, and lifting was the worst part and eventually, his noises of distress attracted her attention.

               “Are you alright?”

               “I’m fine,” he said knowing she could tell he was lying, but his pride hurt more than any physical injury might.

               Lauren worried her lip but left it alone. If he wanted to a masochist who was she to deprive him of that.

               She finished first and lingered, awkwardly near the door, “Well…I’ll see you on Monday.”

               “You’re leaving?” he asked now equipped with pants.

               “Did you have a reason you wanted me to stay?”

               “I—no—I—nothing. It’s nothing. I’ll see you at work.”

               She smiled at him before unlocking the door and lingered. “Be safe, alright.”

               “Please, I’m not worried.”

               He returned to his apartment and his sense of a normal life, which was hilarious considering that’s where the notes from the Phantom Scythe came. There was one at his windowsill when he arrived. It’s probably been there since last night. It was probably urgent.

               He showered instead.

               When the sweat, the seawater, and all the mess of last night was gone even the residual warmth of Lauren’s touch he opened the note.

               GG 11

               He sighed, heavily, and burned it like he did every other note.

               This was a terrible plan. A terrible risky one with the margin for error resting on a razor’s edge. He wasn’t sure if Lauren knew the costs. If this blew up she’d be arrested. If this blew up they’d kill him.

               He tried not to think about it.

               It was three o’clock. He had hours and even then, that didn’t feel like enough time. Maybe he’d draw. It always felt better to have something to do with his hands.

               Even though it was Sunday crime lacked a holiday and by eleven the bar was packed. The regular band of miscreates took up residence at tables and stools, and in booths in smoky backrooms to discuss illicit business and plans for the future. It was exhausting. The alcohol wasn’t even good. The greatest crime syndicate in the country and they skimped on the liquor.

               Normally his entrance was met with some noise, or the lack of it. A few months ago a man had thrown a knife. His comrade in arms learned quickly he didn’t go in for that kind of trouble.

               Unfortunately, trouble waited for him at the bar.

               Belladonna was seated, as she had been, at the bar, pulling off olives with her teeth. He didn’t see Flemings at her side, or more revolting Tim Sake, though he couldn’t say he found the idea of her alone appealing.

               “Belladonna, we do need to stop making this a habit.”

               She gave him a sidelong glance down her drink and a snide smile. “Oh come now Kieran aren’t we friends? I heard you became a mole. You’ve been demoted?”

               “Promoted, rather,” he said as he walked by her. “Seems you’re having trouble keeping a tight shit. Must be losing your grip.”

               Her hand whipped out then and caught him in his injured shoulder as she dug her nails in and watched for some kind of a reaction. “The messenger’s angry.”

               Kieran brushed her arm aside and watched a moment of pain cross her face as he brushed against her arm.

               There was murder in her eyes.

               “I wonder whose fault is that,” he said before leaving her there at the bar to go meet the messenger with a wave of his injured arm over his shoulder.

               When the door closed behind him, he let out some of the air he had trapped in his lungs. He steadied his breathing, his hands that had begun to twitch, his steps, his shoulders. The door at the end of the hall wasn’t open. He couldn’t see the chair, but there were keys for a reason, and it wasn’t that far away.

No. He pushed away those thoughts. No one knew. No one suspected him, yet. He just had to get through this, and he would be fine. He could be fine. He could be fine with this. The messenger had been angry before. This wasn’t new. It was just another fucking mess he was going to have to clean up.

When he opened the door, the messenger was wiping blood off his hands. Kieran watched four fingers slide into gloves the color of his mask.

“Right on time, Purple Hyacinth. It seems the Golden Viper ran into some trouble last night.”

“I assume that’s why she’s here,” Kieran said trying not to sound smug.

“Correct. She ran into Lune.”

“Did she?” Kieran said, “And I assume I’m here because—”

“Because you were tasked with finding them but somehow in one week you’ve managed to accomplish nothing, except having the 8^th apostle’s storehouse pilfered.”

The voice still managed to make him shudder, but he kept his face calm.

“How was I supposed to know they would target there?” he asked. In a different organization that might have been an honest question, but here he had to tread lightly. “You assigned me to find them with no clear understanding of the mission I am protecting, to a precinct who couldn’t deduce their way out of a paper bag.”

“And yet somehow they deduced the Purple Hyacinth is a man.”

Kieran’s heart caught in his throat and he swallowed it. “Did they now?” he said through gritted teeth.

“It seems a young officer saw you.”

He hated to do this. “Then it’s lucky I know who she is. Her name is Lauren Sinclair. She’s an officer, the commissioner’s niece, and smitten with me. You asked what I’ve been doing this week, and that’s what I’ve been doing. She knows everyone, and through her uncle, I can get into any precinct I need to. If Lune is a member of the police force I’ll find them, and I’ll deal with it.”

               “Resourceful of you,” the messenger muttered.

               “Though I would be more effective if I knew at least as much as Lune seems to,” Kieran said as he pressed for more.

               The messenger was silent for a long time before he said, “There’s a meeting at the end of the week. Come. And for now, you can maintain your dalliance, but the leader expects results soon.”

               “When have I ever disappointed? Is that all?”

               “You may leave,” the messenger said before stopping him at the door. “One more thing,” he added before tossing Kieran a file that he caught with his bad arm. “Read this. Burn it.”

               “Understood.”

               And with that, the door closed behind him.

               He didn’t stop clenching his jaw until he was through the next set of doors.

               He regretted mentioning Lauren by name. He knew he was supposed to, but he had hoped, desperately, to only alluding to her. True by her connection with her uncle she remained exposed, but they knew that she had seen him once. He didn’t know how or why they knew, but someone, somewhere had let it slip, and that a frightening detail to have out in the world. He would have to tell her. He couldn’t anticipate yet what the Phantom Scythe might do with that information.

               Belladonna was still at the bar when he returned, fuming to see his hide uninjured.

               He couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to twist the knife.

               “Seems we’ll be seeing more of each other,” he said as he walked past her.

               “Tragic,” she muttered bitterly into her drink.

               He stopped for a moment on the other side of her and both of them went to say something before he turned away and muttered for ears only, “Try not to choke too hard on Tim Sake’s dick.”

               The sound of shattering glass was what he left the bar too and he poured out into the night.

               The air was cool, almost refreshing and he was happy to walk. He hated cabs. He hated cars. He hated any mode of transportation that wasn’t under his own power. He had his reasons. He had several.

               He was fourteen the day of the train bombing. He’d been there with his mother. It was her birthday, her first real day off in a while since the castle was closed for most of the day since the nobility would be at the opening ceremony, and he wanted to do something nice for her. He hadn’t seen her in days. They both rose early, her to the laundry that aged her hands and strained her body, and him to hawk papers until the lamps came on. He was going to have to leave soon, find an apprenticeship, maid’s son didn’t stay in the castle this long, but they had barely two pennies to rub together and certainly not enough to pay someone to take him on. But they didn’t think about that. He couldn’t remember what she looked like.

               He remembered the explosion though. The ringing in his ears. The burning. They weren’t close to the stage, but the roof still came down on him. He only got cuts and bruises but his mom, she was crushed. It didn’t kill her instantly. She was screaming, begging for his help, and he tried to lift the rubble but what could a fourteen-year-old boy reasonably do?

               He ran, for help, for someone, shouted, found a man among the wreckage with a scar.

               He woke up trapped amongst other bodies. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, every motion hurt, and elicited a cry of pain from somewhere. Human voices. Children’s voices. He could feel them pressing against him in the car. It was sweet, and hot, and he was choking.

               He woke up in a room. Six of them like him but not. There were no cots, just blankets, and windows too high to climb. Not that it stopped them. He and another boy, about his age and height, helped a young girl up and over the window. She promised she’d come back. She promised she’d send help.

               They woke up that night to screaming. He’d heard many a person scream in terror since but the ear-splitting cry of an eight her old girl begging for her life as they beat her to death wasn’t something you forget.

               What felt like hours later, when the screams died down to almost nothing the door opened and a man in a mask deposited her body in the room with them. She was mangled, fingers, and limbs at odd angles and patches of skin missing. She was covered in blood. She’d lost an eye.

               The sight of her was revolting and one of the girls just a bit older began to cry. Another boy vomited.

               She was making a noise, an awful wet sucking noise; he knew it now to be a punctured lung.

               One of the boys, Dylan, he’d learn, rushed to help her.

               “Get me some water, we can clean her off and we can…we can…”

               Kieran had walked over and gotten a brick instead.

               “What are you doing?”

               “She’d dying.”

               “She’s still alive.”

               Another girl, Belladonna, grabbed the brick from him knelt and began to beat her with it. She kept going until blood splattered on her face and brains came out.

               No one slept that night.

               The next night the girl who’d cried hung herself.

               They introduced themselves then. Names gave them something to hold onto to, as did stories. Kieran talked about his mom, about the castle, or the parts he knew. Belladonna talked about her dad, he was a butcher, and a mean son of a bitch. She didn’t miss him. Dylan talked about Lauren.

               He’d talk about her in so much detail they could see her, red hair, yellow eyes, and a crown of white daisies. He talked about that her dad was the police commissioner and she wanted to be a police officer. She would find them and she would rescue them.

               The other boy scoffed at the idea. He was a noble’s son. He talked about his father and how his father would save him first.

               They hated him. He couldn’t take a beating.

               When he was fifteen after a long period of unrest in the city they were told due to food shortages they had to pick one of them to die. Kieran doubted there were food shortages. They wanted to break them. It didn’t take much.

               The noble’s son quickly turned on Dylan. He was the youngest and the weakest.

               “Let’s kill him.”

               “No,” Kieran had said. If Dylan died who would tell them about Lauren.

               Gaining silent agreement from Belladonna when the boy made a move on Dylan Kieran tackled him. He slammed his head into the ground enough times it left a blood print while Belladonna grabbed a shredded sheet and crawled on his back. She wrapped it around his throat and used leverage until she was strangling him.

               “Are you going to help us?” she snarled at Dylan.

               “No—I”

               “Useless.”

They practiced chasing cats on the roof in the dark. Sometimes they fell. Dylan was helpful then.

At sixteen they started swinging weapons, learnings to put together guns. The beatings lessened, unless they did something wrong, and they got cots.

Kieran and Belladonna started fucking. It was something to do in the long stretches of boredom between exercises. Sometimes they let Dylan participate. Mostly they made him watch.

Dylan still told them stories about Lauren. She’d wanted to be a police officer. She’d be one, a great one, she’d find them, she’d save them. They would imagine what she was doing, who she was with. They all imagined themselves with her.

At seventeen they started talking about what she’d be like to have sex with. Belladonna started and neither Kieran nor Dylan could stop her though Dylan tried. Sometimes they’d pretend Belladonna was Lauren, though if he was honest, they probably all pretended the other person was Lauren at least once.

At eighteen Kieran and Belladonna graduated. They killed someone, someone close to them, and neither of them struggled. Belladonna seemed to relish getting rid of her father and Kieran had an aunt he hadn’t seen in years. Both worried about Dylan. Neither of them mentioned it.

Lauren wasn’t coming. She wasn’t looking for them. She didn’t care. She wasn’t real.

They kept going, kept fucking, on an off as they took on jobs. They weren’t each other’s only partners but neither of them cared. They didn’t much care for each other anyways.

At twenty they both gathered in an alley outside of a noble’s house in the 11^th precinct. On their own time, Kieran and Belladonna had heard this was where Dylan was going to do his initiation. Both were worried. Neither would admit it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she’d said as she lounged against the wall.

He ignored her. “Has he gone in already?”

Belladonna gestured to the house. “It took him forever but yes.”

“How long has he been in there?”

“Twenty minutes or so.”

“How does it take twenty minutes to finish a job,” Kieran hissed under his breath.

Belladonna shrugged.

They waited. Another five minutes passed.

“I’m going to go figure out what’s taking him so long,” Kieran snapped before walking away.

Belladonna waved after him.

The door was unlocked.

Seemed Dylan had learned at least something.

The house was quiet, with large rugs that made it easy to be nimble.

Kieran started on the ground floor. He opened doors. He went room to room until one of them made him stop. He’d cracked the door half open and had to take a step back so he wouldn’t make noise and wake the sleeping figure up. He couldn’t see her face but he recognized the pool of red hair gathered on the couch from the description. Lauren was real and alive and here.

He took a step forward and hesitated. If he’d seen her then so had Dylan, this fucker. He hated to step back. To close the door. To tear himself away. But he needed to find Dylan and figure out what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into. Anything he did reflected badly on all three of them, and he wasn’t suffering for this idiot.

He found him upstairs in the study.

The man he was supposed to kill, a blonde elderly gentleman was slumped in his seat. Dylan was sitting on the divan head in his hand.

“Is he dead?” Kieran had asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Kieran I—”

Kieran ignored him and walked over to the man. He lifted his head up, the man was out cold but not dead, and slit his throat, before walking back over to Dylan.

Dylan didn’t say anything. He looked resigned as Kieran punch him and he dropped to the floor.

Kieran had to pick him up and swing him over his shoulder before the pool of blood could catch up to him. Still, he got some on the edge of his shoes.

Kieran carried him out of the house, and thought to steal another glance, but couldn’t because he was burdened by Dylan.

He didn’t need a second look. Lauren was real, and he’d find her. Why hadn’t Dylan run? Surely, he’d seen her. Why hadn’t he taken her and run? That’s what he would have done. That’s what he’d do if he ever found her again.

Kieran dropped Dylan the alley next to a less than amused Belladonna.

“He couldn’t do it.”

“He knocked him out,” Kieran said.

“That’s not killing them! God damn it, Dylan!” Belladonna yelled kicking his unconscious body. “They’re going to fucking kill us!”

“They’re not going to kill us,” Kieran said with more confidence then he felt. “Not if we take it out on Dylan. We beat the shit out of him. Take his finger.”

Belladonna stopped. “Should we bring him to them first?”

Kieran shrugged.

He was familiar with how Dylan sounded when he screamed. The whimpers too were not a noise unfamiliar to him.

They didn’t break any bones. But there was a lot you could do to a person before you broke a bone.

They were back at their childhood home and Kieran got the dubious honor since he was who had to clean up Dylan’s mess of taking off his finger. He used one of Belladonna’s knives. It wasn’t a clean cut the first time.

When they left him Dylan hadn’t made a noise in hours. He was still alive, Belladonna had checked, but they weren’t sure for how much longer, since the messenger had arrived. Neither saw him after that. If he lived they doubted they were on speaking terms.

After that Belladonna started working for the 8^th Apostle. After that she started fucking Tim Sake.

They stopped seeing each other then.

They were busy.

He was lonely.

He started drawing. He used to do it tracing the pictures in the newspapers, now he had money, and real supplies.

He couldn’t find Lauren.

He looked in the 11^th precinct.

Dylan had said she would become a police officer and the surrounding area were nobles and old money. It would make sense that if he’d seen her here, she lived here, and he doubted she would have strayed too far away. That’s not what nobles, and old money types did.

It surprised him to think of her as a noble. Why was she friends with the son of a florist? Would she have been friends with the son of a maid? He didn’t think about that.

He learned the patrol routes of every squad in the 11^th precinct, on every shift, but he never spotted her.

He was frustrated and lonely. He took on larger more dangerous jobs. He tried not to lose his humanity to them.

He’d given up hope one night in the Grim Goblin when he was twenty-three when he overheard Tim Sake. Normally his voice signaled Kieran’s exit, but the topic intrigued him. An officer who had almost arrested Tim Sake, no easy feat, an officer named Lauren.

He didn’t walk over and drag Tim Sake up by the collar and asked him where he’d seen her. He wanted to, but looking for something with Phantom Scythe resources attracted suspicion and he’d learned a long time ago he didn’t want that.

She’d been in the 11^th precinct he’d realized when he’d gone over arrest records; a matter of public record at the courthouse. He hadn’t accounted for her time at the academy. He could forgive that.

Still, he didn’t spot her on patrol, now that she’d been reduced to a beat cop, he spotted her in a café he’d found that was a good place for sketching.

He’d walked in and turned to see hair he recognized sitting with another man. He’d promptly walked out and instantly regretted it. He could have stayed, sat near her, and listened, but now he’d fucked it up.

While he had a crisis outside, inside it seemed Lauren was having her own, some choice words, one of which he caught as “pensive” were used before she stormed out and past him.

Well, she didn’t have a boyfriend. There were some mercies in the world.

He saw her there several times. Not often enough that she’d have noticed him, but enough that he got to know her. She was stressed. She had an ax to grind against the Phantom Scythe. She was a hyper-competent officer. She had terrible luck with men.

He’d figured out what he was going to say when he introduced himself so this would go smoothly. He had an entire plan.

When he was twenty-four he was asked to assassinate two nobles across the street from each other. It was a terrible plan, but like all murders, it was meant to send a message, so he did it. In the back of his mind, it nagged at him that this was near Lauren’s home, but it was her day off.

He’d be fine.

The officer chasing him was persistent. He’d almost been amused. He got their mask off so he could look them in the eye when he—

Fuck him. Just. Fuck him. In particular.

He had his keys out when he approached his apartment door. He wanted to go see Lauren and tell her about the potential danger facing her but since he’d left the Grim Goblin he’d had a second shadow. They were good, hiding their footfalls with his, but he was better.

“Come out, then. I’m not interested in being followed,” he hissed into the darkness.

And out from it stepped a man that didn’t match him in height but looked the same, if not firmer, than the boy he’d left on the floor of the room they grew up in.

“Dylan. Somehow, I’m not surprised,” he said through gritted teeth.

Dylan stalked up to him, but Kieran held his ground even as Dylan grabbed him by the collar.

“Leave her out of this.”

“Who?”

“You fucking know who.”

Kieran pushed his hands away. “Lauren? She came on to me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dylan snapped.

“Where did you hear this? I’m surprised gossip about me is going around already.”

Dylan didn’t answer and Kieran could guess he’d been followed for longer than he noticed. If he and Belladonna were still talking it would have been nice to know Dylan was back in town. That would have been helpful.

“She doesn’t deserve this.”

“She’s a grown adult, Dylan she can make her own fucking choices.”

“She had no idea what you are!”

“And what?” Kieran snapped, “You’re going to tell her?! That the man that’s fucking her is the Purple Hyacinth.” He didn’t have to say that. He wanted to.

He watched the realization come over Dylan’s face first as horror then as rage. “You didn’t. Goddamnit, Kieran you didn’t.”

“I don’t know, Dylan. Where’s she been the last couple of days?”

He watched as Dylan stepped back and cycle through all the places he’d seen her recently, and notice the nights she hadn’t come home.

“You son of a bitch…she doesn’t love you.”

“I’m pretty sure her screaming my name says otherwise.”

Dylan tried to hit him then. He wasn’t good. Even years of assassin training and he couldn’t throw a punch that wasn’t telegraphed.

Kieran hit him in the stomach and dropped him to the ground.

“I’ll tell her,” he coughed.

“No you won’t,” Kieran said leaning down to him. “Because you know what the Phantom Scythe will do to her if they find out she knows? If she’s lucky they’ll do to her what they did to us, and if not you know what I’m capable of.”

Dylan unsteadily got to his feet.

“She’ll know.”

“What?”

“She’ll know you’re an assassin.”

“And why is that?”

“She can hear lies.”

Kieran paled. He knew that. He didn’t know Dylan knew that, and how many people had he told. What kind of danger had he put her in?

Kieran picked Dylan by the collar and slammed him into his apartment door. “Who did you tell?!”

Dylan looked frightened, and under different circumstances that might have been satisfying.

“Who knows she can hear lies?” he snarled.

“No one.”

“And it’s going to stay that way,” he said before dropping him. He was tempted to kick him too.

Dylan got up and tackled him. He got a few quick hits in before Kieran rolled over and hit him.

He stopped when he broke his nose and got up so Dylan could limp off.

Well Dylan was back, and what was he going to tell Lauren.

Chapter Text

It was going on ten minutes and Lauren still hadn’t opened up the door to APD. She was dreading it. She was dreading the conversation that was coming between coworkers now that Lucas had seen her and Kieran together, because the last everyone knew she either didn’t know him, or actively disliked him for whatever reason. How strange to think that that had been Friday, when she actively wished harm upon him, and now, she found the very thought repulsive. Not that she found the idea of working with him any more enjoyable.

               Eventually, the bell in the church began to toll and Lauren was forced to push the door open and face the consequences of her actions. There was no time like the present.

She didn’t see Kieran as she walked to her desk. She was thankful since it saved her the awkward interaction of running into him in the hall, but not seeing him was somehow worse.

When she opened the door, Kym had her in a headlock, almost as if she was waiting for her. “Lauren!” she shouted. “You have been holding out on me!”

Lauren gracefully extracted herself before brushing off her shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“So I didn’t see you and the archivist wrapped around each other, dripping wet, under the docks about to—” Lucas said staring into his as he stared into the abyss as it stared into him.

“Ok. Let’s all get back to our actual jobs, and not gossiping about Lauren’s love life,” Will interrupted as he returned for the long-lost land of responsibility.

Kym narrowed her eyes at him advancing on him like a hungry shark leaving Lauren with time to go to her desk where a present was waiting. It was a small vase made of blue glass filled with white daisies and a note. From your florist. Kieran didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word subtle, but she couldn’t help the blush that formed on her face.

“You knew didn’t you,” Kym said when she finally had Will cornered.

“I knew nothing of the sort,” Will said looking at Lauren for help who only cracked a smile as she set the note back into the flowers.

Kym looked between the two of them and narrowed her eyes. “She told you when you two went on your date.”

“It wasn’t a date, Kym,” Will protested taking her hands and trying to remove her from his proximity.

Kym mock scowled. “No, you two just abandoned me at the office while you took advantage of Lauren’s suddenly free time to talk about stuff without me. I am hurt. You two are mean. How could you do this to your best friend, Lauren?”

“To be fair I didn’t tell him anything. I said I am spending time with a guy who he thought was a florist,” Lauren said as she sat down to her desk and shuffled her papers.

“She didn’t mention anything about his shirt was off and—”

“Lucas!” Will said looking like he was ready to commit a murder.

He scowled. “What? Did you want me to tell her about you and Kym?”

“What’s this about you and Kym?” Lauren asked cracking a smile.

“Nothing!” Kym almost shrieked.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It is,” Will said coming to stand beside Lauren’s desk.

She noticed for a moment Kym looked hurt before she adopted her normal bouncy smile. She’d have to ask about that. Whenever she had time.

“It’s not against policy to date inside the office but you might still want to check in with Human Resources,” Will said.

Lauren glanced at her stack of paperwork before slowly rising. “Sure. Have you seen the Archivist…Kieran, yet?”

“I haven’t, not that you’d miss him,” Kym said admiringly. “He’s attractive…is that weird to say now that he’s your boyfriend.”

Lauren paused. “Honestly? Yes.”

Will sighed. “I haven’t seen him either. You could check on your way. But don’t get lost.”

Lauren gave him a sidelong glance to see if he was serious and seemed he was. That hurt her feelings a little bit.

“I won’t,” she said as she got up.

“Good,” he said heading back towards his desk grabbing Kym’s shoulder on the way. “Now the rest of you get back to your actual job.”

She could hear Kym dying as she closed the door behind her.

That had gone ok. Not great. Not awful. But it left her with another problem. No one had seen Kieran.

He was probably fine. He was an assassin. He was capable of handling himself. He could sneak into buildings silently to murder people, which normally wouldn’t be a comforting thought but right now was. He was fine.

She should check him on him.

He had probably just walked in and no one had noticed him since he gave off a sickenly non-threatening aura at work. He was probably working right now shelving files. He was probably going to laugh at her for being silly.

Or.

He was dead, his throat slit, his limbs bent up in odd angles and his eyes bleeding like Harvey’s in the back of Grim Goblin and—

The door of the archive was solid and cold. It creaked as she opened it. She’d never noticed. How had Harvey not noticed Belladonna sneaking up on him? Had he planned to die?

Kieran was standing between the shelves placing a file back in its home. His hair was up in the same stupid ribbon, with the same stupid suspenders and the same stupid glasses that made him look like a tacky librarian. She’d never been happier to see him.

“Can I help you, mon amour?” he asked with a brilliant smile that knocked the wind out of her.

She charged across the room and swept him up into her arms nearly knocking him into his cart, not that he seemed to mind.

He pulled her into him, nearly off her feet, as he buried his face into her neck and squeezed her as hard as he could without hurting her.

“You’re ok,” she said finally.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” he asked finally with a laugh.

“No, I—How did it go?”

Kieran’s face was unreadable. “It could have gone better. I’ll tell you later. I have something for you.”

“Other than the flowers?” she asked teasing as he let her go while he produced something from his pocket.

“You liked them?”

“I did,” she said brushing the hair out of her face. “How did you know they were my favorite flower?”

Kieran didn’t answer.

“Did Dylan tell you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did he talk about me?”

“Constantly,” Kieran said softly before pressing something into her hands. They were tickets to the circus much the same as the one she’d found in Flemmings’s things.

“Tickets?”

Kieran smiled. “I figured since you’re now my actual girlfriend I should take you on a real date.”

Lauren returned the smile. “Is this a work date or a date date?”

He shrugged. “It can be both.”

“And when is this date?”

“Well, the tickets are for Friday so..”

“So, you’re picking me up on Friday?”

“Unless you were planning on meeting me there.”

She gave him a wry look. “My dear subor—boyfriend has to be good for something.”

“He aims to please,” Kieran said before he heard the door opening and leaned down to steal a quick kiss.

He didn’t manage it in time, not that he meant to, before the door opened to reveal Kym carrying an unusually large stack of papers. Maybe it was all her paperwork, or the additional files Will liked to heap on her when she was being particularly irritating.

Kym stopped and stared at the brashness of it all before coughing. Really. Right in front of her paperwork.

The pair broke apart and Lauren glared at Kieran who only gave her a wicked grin.

“Can I help you, lieutenant?” he asked as he fixed his glasses.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

Kym gave her the largest case of side-eye. “And you said you’d hurry.”

A blush spread over her face as she brushed past her. “Goodbye.”

“We are talking about this later!” Kym called leaning out the door to call after her.

“No, we’re not!” Lauren called back.

“Sure, we are,” Kym said as she straightened back up and fixed Kieran with a look. “You.”

“Me,” he said as he went back to what he was doing though not without a slight smile.

Kym marched over to him and set the files on his card so she could put her hands on her hips.

He stopped what he was doing to fix her with a raised eyebrow.

“You could have told me you were dating Lauren?” she chastised. “Now I look like an idiot.”

You could do that on your own, he thought but didn’t say it because that was mean. Still, he laughed. “You don’t look like an idiot. I appreciate you looking out for your friend as much as you do.”

“You still could have told me,” Kym said, not budging on the issue. “I didn’t even think she could stand you let alone date you.”

“That is hurtful.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he said brushing off before going back to work. “I wouldn’t be surprised that you got that impression. She wasn’t exactly thrilled when I told her I’d be working here, and I think she was avoiding me at work because she was mad at me.”

“How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple of months.”

“You used to be a florist?”

Kieran laughed harder than he meant to at that. “Sorry, sorry, I worked for one for a short time. Barely enough to make a resume, but it was what I was doing when I met her, and it seems to have stuck out.”

“You do know your flowers,” Kym said referencing his gift.

“I try. So, are you going to tell me if I hurt her, you’ll break my knees?”

“No. Lauren is perfectly capable of doing so herself, just, take care of her alright. I don’t know if she’s told you but…she’s seen a lot.”

Kieran stopped what he was doing and looked at Kym who wore a sobering look.

“I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Kym smiled then and all traces of seriousness, vanished. “Good. Could you file these please and thank you?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. Well…good to see you…the boyfriend.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Oh. And Sergeant. I’ll still make good on that favor, even if I don’t need your help.”

Kym had been trying to retreat but flushed. “I..uh…I don’t need your help.”

Kieran grinned wickedly. “Oh? So, you don’t want this stakeout I got from Hermann this morning?”

Kym’s ears perked up. “And what might that entail?”

He had her on the hook now. “Oh, just an easy stakeout. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s even police business but apparently it was a personal favor. Herman’s a friend of the family.”

Kym debated, worried her lip, before she marched back and snatched the file from Kieran’s outstretched hand. And stopped.

“He likes Lauren.”

“I know.”

“That’s why you punched him.”

“One of several.”

“I still can’t believe you punched him.”

Kieran shrugged. He still wasn’t sorry. Frankly, he’d do it again today if offered the chance.

“What if you’d actually hurt him?”

“Do you have a question?”

Kym sighed. “No, I just…I’m sure he thinks I’m annoying, and silly, and reckless and an idiot…and I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

He had no idea either. They weren’t exactly friends. “Because you can’t tell Lauren and your only other friend is Will who you like and you can’t tell your office mates because they’re awful gossips and you know I’ve successfully gotten a girlfriend so you’re hoping I know how to do it.”

“Exactly.”

“Sorry. I just told her, and it worked out.”

“Well, that’s not helpful at all.”

Kieran sighed. She wasn’t going to leave without advice was she. How did he end up being who needed to give her advice? “Look. You’re a capable officer. You’re insightful, and funny, and charming, and not unattractive. You will be fine.”

“That’s…weirdly flattering.”

“Can I go back to filing now?”

“Oh,” Kym said realizing she’d been stopping him. “Yes. Go. Thank you.”

“Sure. Best of luck, lieutenant,” Kieran said as he went back to what he was doing.

“Kym.”

“Kym. Get out of my office, or I take back what I said.”

Kym grinned and left with the assignment. She had plans. This could go great.

This was going awful.

Kym realized now why Kieran had said this barely qualified as police business. Miranda Flemmings, the wife of a prominent businessman, was concerned her husband was cheating and so they had been tasked with watching his office.

It was thrilling.

Hours ago, they’d exhausted the coffee they’d brought in a thermos because it was freezing outside and many a watermelon rind lay in a small pile next to their car.

Will was losing his mind.

He’d accepted the assignment because Kym swore it was from Hermann, and she swore it was related to their mission to investigate Lune within their department, but they couldn’t exactly do that far away from everyone else they worked with.

He was tired. He hadn’t been sleeping. Lately, his mom had been worse, waking up in the night screaming calling out for his dad, calling him his name when he came to check on her. All the doctors and the nurses in the world couldn’t make that better.

He still remembered that night. He’d tried his best to forget but Harvey had brought it back. He was just another in a long line of people he’d failed to protect.

He and Lauren had been downstairs working on finals, at some point long past midnight they’d fallen asleep, and he’d woken up to his mother screaming. She was upstairs in the study, and they ran to check on her and there he was, his dad, slit across the neck, head bowed over his desk, blood seeping into the rug.

He couldn’t prove that was what caused his mother’s illness, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

Maybe he should take his own advice and utilize the police counseling services, but he wouldn’t. He was a capable officer after all.

For the fourth time, Kym opened the glove box like there was going to be something different in there.

“What are you doing?” he asked exasperation creeping into his voice.

“I’m trying to see if there’s a book or something.”

“Kym,” he said, “You’ve already looked. If it wasn’t in there the last time why would one be in there this time?”

“I know, William,” Kym snapped before she flopped against him surprising him. “I’m just bored. Ok.”

Will sighed and wrapped his arm around her so his fingers rested in her hair. “I know. I’m bored too.”

Kym stiffened at the sudden touch before slowly relaxing against him. “Stakeout’s suck.”

“They do,” he muttered as he realized what he was doing and thought to stop but just didn’t. He strangely didn’t mind this. Having her against him made the cold car much less cold and it was oddly comforting. He hadn’t actually held her since Harvey’d died and that had been under different circumstances. He could recall how she looked watching the music box and when she wasn’t being a massive pain in his ass she could be actually charming. Not that he would ever tell her that. It would inflate her ego too much, and then what kind of terror would she rain down on his life.

Perhaps Kym was so warm because her face was burning. She hadn’t been thinking about it, no she definitely had, when she had flopped on him, but she assumed he would push her off not wrap an arm around her and stroke her hair. Tilting her head up she could see his face in profile and he was handsome. Frustrating. A massive killjoy. But handsome. And capable. And caring in his own insufferable way.

Will seemed to realize she was looking at him and raised a brow before Kym quickly looked away and sat up. “Do you think he’s cheating?”

“Flemmings?” Will asked surprised by her sudden departure but rested his hand back where she’d been sitting. She’d left a warm spot. “Honestly? I doubt it.”

“Why?” Kym asked turning her whole body to face him suddenly quite invested.

Will startled under her sudden intense attention, seemed she’d found something to entertain herself after all. “Why would you cheat on your spouse?”

“Why would someone lie about that?” Kym asked suddenly a little offended on this woman’s behalf.

Will shrugged. “She’s jealous?”

“Of what?” Kym said pressing on.

“I don’t know. Why does this matter to you?”

Suddenly Kym stopped and laughed a little and realized she’d been taking this much to seriously. “An excellent point sir William,” she teased, “But consider this. What if! What if he was secretly involved in a shadowy organization and had been seduced to the dark side by a beautiful woman.”

“Kym are you alright?” Will asked.

No, I’m not alright, she thought, I’m jealous that you like Lauren and I want you to pay attention to me.

Except she didn’t think it.

It came out of her mouth, and she didn’t realize it because she felt it leave her lips, but because Will’s face turned white.

“What?” he asked as his mouth opened and closed in slow motion.

“Nothing,” Kym said bringing up her hands to bat the words away. “I didn’t say I know you have a crush on Lauren, but I like you and I’m jealous and I’m going to go get some more coffee and—”

Kym had gone to open the door and Will had reached over her to pull the door closed. He’d had to scramble into the seat behind her and now he had her pressed up against the door. She could feel how warm his breath was on her cheek.

Slowly, when he was sure she wasn’t going to open the door and roll into her watermelon carcasses, Will released his hold on the door, brought his hand up to her cheek and kissed her.

Kym leaned into it, grabbed him by the shoulders before suddenly pulling back. “Wait, but you like Lauren and I…I don’t want to be a rebound.”

“You’re not a rebound,” he said as he moved his hand, so it was covering hers.

“But you like her,” Kym said exasperated.

“Sure,” Will said, “I do. I have for years, and I know she doesn’t like me Kym. I’m ok just being her friend. Am I thrilled with who she chose as a boyfriend, no, but I can live with that.”

“But…but…you hang on every word and your eyes always follow her,” Kym said panic creeping into her voice.

Will smiled. “Who is she normally standing next to?”

Her. He was talking about her. He liked her. He’d kissed her. Holy shit he kissed her. And he was holding her hand and—

“But you said when we almost kissed wasn’t anything!”

Will looked away and coughed. “I wasn’t sure how you felt.”

“How I felt?!” Kym almost shouted. “Will I have been flirting with you for months! Years!”

Will winced, and Kym couldn’t tell if it was from the volume or the sudden crushing embarrassment of all of those times, she’d been trying to get his attention by being irritating and he’d just missed it.

“You like me,” she mumbled finally.

“I kissed you didn’t I,” he mumbled in return.

“Say it though,” she said softly bringing her hand up to stroke his cheek. “Say you like me.”

He smiled. “I like you, Kym Ladell.”

This time Kym pulled him in for a kiss and he didn’t stop her.

His lips were chapped from the cold, but she didn’t mind; his mouth was as warm as his body as he pressed it against her. Her hands drifted from his collar to his hair that was surprising soft. She’d always wondered what it would feel like, but she didn’t wonder long as he pressed his tongue between her teeth, and she melted. It felt strange to have it there between her teeth and her own tongue brushed against this new resident.

When he finally pulled back her eyes lingered closed before she blinked at him. Her face was burning. The car wasn’t cold anymore.

“Do you uh…still want me to get coffee?” she mumbled as Will adjusted his tie and slid back into the driver’s seat.

His own face was burning. “No, I’m very much awake now. You?”

“Same,” she said and laughed.

He laughed too.

“So…am I your girlfriend now then?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

“Cool,” she mumbled before flashing him a grin. “Am I your partner in crime?”

Will rolled his eyes. “Please, you drag me into whatever mischief you get up to anyway.”

“That is lies and slander dear William,” Kym teased sliding over so she could but her shoulder against his.

Not missing a beat he put an arm around her and pulled her against him. She blushed and quieted immediately. “Truth.”

“Lies,” she said as she leaned up so she could look at him while he raised his eyebrows at her. “If Lauren were here, she’d agree with me.”

Will made a face and Kym stopped. Great going, Kym. You confessed to the guy you like, got him to kiss you, and agree to be your boyfriend, and then you go and bring up his old crush. Smooth.

“What do you think about Kieran White?” Will asked finally.

Kym sat up but remained beside him. Will didn’t move his hand.

“He’s nice enough. Kind of weird though,” she said finally.

“You think he’s attractive.”

Kym shrugged. “And you’re jealous.”

Will shrugged. “It’s just…does something felt weird about them?”

Kym knew what he was driving at. She’d felt it too. Lauren had been so cold to him, almost hostile, for the past week, and then suddenly they’re dating. And sure, she’d buy the explanation Kieran had given but it didn’t fit with other things.

“You look like you've had an idea,” Will said, and he worried she’d come to a similar conclusion as him.

Lauren had been acting odd since the double murder they’d responded too, the night she’d caught the Purple Hyacinth, but he’d escaped. Initially, Will had just assumed she was getting more involved in work or trying to find him on her own because Lauren took Phantom Scythe leads personally and seriously, and that was the best explanation for why they never saw her, but then the first Lune case showed up. She’d been so calm. At the time it hadn’t seemed weird because Lauren was always calm until she wasn’t, but in retrospect, it was odd for her. This was someone claiming to have information on the Phantom Scythe and normally she would be all over that. She wasn’t on duty the nights any of the arrests were made, sure several of them were not done by the 11^th precinct but he’d still checked. And when everyone who’d been arrested was killed by the Purple Hyacinth she’d paled and run off sick. It was reasonable to react to an atrocity like that with horror, but it’d looked personal for her. And she’d cried in the gym when he mentioned it because it was the closest, she’d ever gotten to finding answers.

Kym was pretty sure Kieran was the Purple Hyacinth. It made sense. He fit the description Lauren had given vague as it was. She hadn’t thought about it until she saw how Lauren reacted to him when they met. She’d looked cold, scared, even in retrospect, especially when she’d mentioned how she was who’d almost caught the Purple Hyacinth. Lauren didn’t scare easily. The last time she’d done so had been when she’d got back from chasing the assassin following the double murder and realized who she’d been chasing. She didn’t just let criminal escape though so deep was her personal vendetta and he wouldn’t have just let her live. Kym suspected blackmail, or a trade of some kind. It was the only thing that made sense. It was the only thing that would explain the sudden shift from cold to amicable that’d taken place between them even if Lauren seemed like a less than willing member. But Kieran did seem to genuinely like Lauren. And that somehow made it more confusing. Regardless, him being the Purple Hyacinth was the only thing that made Lauren’s actions make sense.

Kieran White was the Purple Hyacinth, and he and Lauren were Lune.

“It’s nothing,” Kym said.

“If Lauren were here she’d know that was a lie,” Will said tightening his arm.

Kym gave him a tight smile, that he returned. “I think…Lauren is Lune. With Kieran. And he’s the Purple Hyacinth.”

Will’s arm was crushing as he pulled her against him. “I…think so too.”

“We don’t have evidence.”

“We don’t,” Will said with a nod. “But we should tell Hermann.”

Kym reached over and grabbed Will’s collar so he’d look at her. “We can’t. Will, we can’t. What if Lauren is in danger?”

She watched a mixture of emotions crossed his face. “Kym, what Lauren’s doing is illegal.”

“He could kill her.”

Will stopped.

“Please,” Kym said. “Let’s get evidence first. Actual evidence.”

“Alright,” he relented.

Kym sighed and let go of his collar. “Let’s ask them to go to Golden Clover with us.”

Will gave her a look of surprise. “Why? Oh. Alright.”

The car was silent then.

Kym shuffled back to her seat and the temperature dropped dramatically.

Both of their attention shifted to the office they’d chosen to stake out. It was where Mrs. Flemmings reported she’d seen the beautiful women.

But that’s not who they saw.

Tim Sake exited at well past midnight.

“Is that—” was the first words spoken by Will to break the silence.

“This fucker,” Kym snapped as she’d already gotten her door open.

“Kym, wait, we’re supposed to be staking out—”

“Are you going to help me chase him or not?” Kym asked as she got out and promptly almost slipped on watermelon rinds. She found her footing enough to glare at Will before shutting the door and taking off.

He watched her cross the front of the car before locking the door, pocketing the keys, and running after her.

Kym chased him for blocks, but she quickly lost sight of him when he turned the corner. Her poor sense of direction did the rest and by the time Will caught up to her she was alone.

“Why was Tim Sake at Ryan Flemming’s office?” she panted.

Elsewhere in an apartment far too nice for Greychapel Belladonna sat draped across her chaise in a silk robe purchased by a long-dead patron rereading the files Harvey had sent her. He’d been a sweet boy. So earnest in his commitment to equality and how selfish in his desire to help his grandfather. Spying paid well. It was one of several reasons she was so annoyed Kieran was who was now the mole in the 11^th precinct.

Harvey had been fantastic. Utterly useless, but amusing as she’d watched his slow degradation in morals. Honestly using the Golden Viper on him had been a bit of a waste but it sent a message. And it gave a nice show.

Belladonna flipped through the files and winced as her arm gave her trouble. A large patch of skin was gone and though she’d bandaged it that didn’t make it feel any better.

There was nothing here. Nothing helpful. Harvey was once again utterly useless.

Belladonna let her arms fall into her lap and sighed.

Maybe Kieran might be more effective, though any report he wrote would go directly to the leader and not to her. Because she was “losing her grip.”

Belladonna tightened her hold on the files curling the edges in her fist before she tossed them and let them rain over her furniture.

She had seen them!

She had chased them, all the way to the water’s edge, and if she’d dived in she could have—

It was Kieran. No one else knew his shape better in the dark than her but when she’d told the messenger her suspicion she’d been reprimanded.

She needed proof.

Proof huh.

She covered her face with her hand and sighed.

Assuming the man in back was Kieran, which she had little doubt of but set that aside for the purpose of argument, though it did much to explain why he’d been at the Grim Goblin when she’d been there to meet with Flemings, which he hadn’t been asked to do per what she’d gathered from the messenger, who was the person in front?

Lauren was the obvious answer.

Kieran had barely been able to tolerate her or Dylan when they lived together, she couldn’t imagine him risking the kind of consequences he’d face for actively defying the Phantom Scythe for anyone other than her. Besides, she’d already heard the rumors circulating that he’d managed to seduce the police commissioner’s niece. How galling that must be for Dylan, who she’d recently learned was back in town and surprisingly not dead, who was the only thing Kieran could reasonably offer Lauren that she would be interested in, if not bringing down the Phantom Scythe in its entirety.

Belladonna recalled something and sat upright before slipping off the chaise to hunt through the scattered files. There was something, just a line, she’d recalled from one of the files.

Officer Lauren Sinclair almost caught the Purple Hyacinth. Please advise.

It’d been the only interesting thing he’d ever sent her, and if he’d kept having little tidbits like that, Harvey might still be alive. She’d told him to gather the details of what Lauren knew and send it to her so she could forward it to the messenger. The most likely event was Lauren’s demise. He’d done so, and she’d done her part, and nothing had happened. It’d been troubling at the time, but she hadn’t really wanted to kill Lauren.

She could. She was certainly capable. She could have done it in the alley when Tim Sake was running his mouth, but she didn’t. Instead, she’d left her concussed in the alleyway.

Belladonna returned to her seat holding the file and set in on the cushion as she fished for cigarettes in her bag.

It’d been good to see her, Lauren. She looked like she imagined her, or how Dylan had described her. Striking red hair, pale, eyes that looked like they could cut you, but she’d always imagined them softer. Her voice was how she imagined it too, the pitch and timber, as she snarled at Tim Sake. The raw confidence of her to drag a known Phantom Scythe murderer into an alley for a little chat and slam him into a wall. Striking her with the butt of the blade was far better than the alternative. Too many witnesses.

She lit her cigarette and returned to the alley.

If this had been years ago she might have imagined running into Lauren out at a bar, or a coffee shop, and she’d be so taken with her that she’d come home with her, but Belladonna didn’t indulge in those kinds of fantasies anymore. Lauren wasn’t coming for her. Lauren wasn’t going to help her. The most she could hope for was her hands in handcuffs and her face pressed against the wall, or her knife under Lauren’s neck.

So, she imagined herself in handcuffs. The cool metal against her skin. It’d been years since she’d worn them, not since the chair and practicing and—

She pushed all of that away. She didn’t want that. She wanted Lauren. She wanted to focus on Lauren. Her body holding her against the wall, her hands in her hair, calloused from holding a gun, because she was a good shot, because she was good at everything she did. If she was so good then why hadn’t she found you?

Ash fell on her leg and Belladonna swore under her breath. She brushed it off and angrily extinguished her cigarette.

When she returned to her fantasy it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t up against the wall, Lauren was, her knife under her neck, her body too stiff from fear to move. This she was familiar with. This she could work with.

How angry Lauren’s eyes were and full of hate. She was seething to let herself be used like this to keep herself alive, as Belladonna traced the knife down and opened up her blouse, but Belladonna didn’t care. She didn’t have to like it.

She sunk her teeth into the hollow of her neck and treasured the sounds she made as she pulled her hair to move her head. She’d mark her as hers, just hers, and turn her face with the flat of the blade so she could kiss her. Lauren would try to pull away, but her grip was tight in her hair.

She’d turn her, push her back up against the wall, and slide her hands down her body and pepper her shoulders and breasts with kisses and—

There was a sudden knock at the door.

Belladonna waited hoping whoever it was would go away. This late it could only be a couple of things and she was enthusiastic for none of them.

The knock came again.

Belladonna slipped her fingers out of herself and cleaned them with her tongue.

Irritated she didn’t bother to close her robe as she stalked to the door and opened it.

Tim Sake stood at the door grinding a cigarette into the floor.

“I have an ashtray,” she snapped.

He pushed past her into her apartment, and she rolled her eyes at him before closing the door and locking it behind him.

She hadn’t even had time to turn before he’d pressed her to the door one hand wrapped around her throat and another gripping her injury. She didn’t wince. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You told the messenger the operation had been comprised by Lune,” he hissed into her ear.

“Has it not?” she asked sliding a look towards his face. He reeked of tobacco. She wondered if Lauren smoked. She hadn’t smelled any on her, but it’d fit such a hard-boiled detective. Alright. She smoked.

Tim closed his grip on her arm tight enough she felt the gauze stick to the open wound and her mouth press into a thin line. “Because you didn’t go after them,” he snarled.

“Neither did you,” she snarled in response. I wasn’t who ran my mouth off.

He grabbed her by the cheeks pressing her mouth open as he held her to the door. “What use are you, Belladonna? You’re not even a halfway decent whore.”

She felt her whole body tighten in response as rage filled her, but she breathed out and let it was gone replaced by coy flirtation. Her tongue danced against the skin of his hand as she moved to her to nudge against him. “We both know that’s not true.”

Tim Sake dropped her then and retreated to pour himself a drink.

Belladonna leaned against the door as she watched him walk away and touched her arm. She pushed away, her back to him, as she stooped and collected the scattered files. One of these days she’d poisoned her liquor. How she would enjoy watching his face contort in horror as he realized what she’d done. It’d be slow too. A cough, a choke, his hands digging into his throat wet with his own blood at he sought air, his knees buckling under him, feet kicking out for purchase, his eyes dripping, his lips begging for an antidote before he expired face down on her carpet. Or maybe she’d just open him up. Were his insides as black as she imagined?

“What were you doing?” he asked as he leaned against the bar nursing his drink.

Belladonna stood up and stacked the papers in her hands. “Reading. Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he said as he finished his drink in one gulp before stalking over to her. He slid his fingers under the collar off her robe before pushing it off her shoulders and onto the floor. She dropped the files between their feet. Why had she bothered to collect them? He slipped his hand under her chin and held it so she’d look at him. “But you’re my assassin and what you do reflects on me.”

Belladonna had to bite down a laugh. She didn’t belong to him. She was rented. After Dylan, after Kieran stopped talking to her, the messenger had approached her with a job that only she could do. One of the apostles was up to something and he would need to be brought to heel, or killed. Only she was talented enough for that she’d been promised. But that had been four years ago and all she’d done since was suck Tim Sake’s dick, kill for him, and make as much as she could off his business while she lied to the messenger that she had this well in hand. She did though. How easy would it be to burn the whole thing to the ground, but could she stand to lose the money? She’d sunk into the mire up to her eyes and it was never coming out.

It was just a body. It didn’t matter what happened to it.

“How did your meeting with Flemmings go?” she asked.

His hand whipped across her face and she found herself down on all fours on the chaise the wind knocked out of her. Before she had time to take a breath his lips were on hers forcing his tongue down her throat. She was suffocating on tobacco her fists balled against his shoulders.

He wrenched her hands above her head when he pulled himself from her lips and opened his collar with his other hand. His tie wrapped around her wrists tight enough to leave marks. “Leave them here or you know what happens.”

She didn’t need to nod. She knew.

Unburdened his hands traveled down her body until he cupped the wetness between her legs. “Did you start without me?” he asked.

“Give me something to think about and I might,” she snapped.

He slid four fingers into her without warning and she bit her lip.

“How is Kieran?”

Belladonna spat on him.

Tim wiped the spit from his face before he grabbed her by the hair. “Seems you need some manners,” he snapped as he dragged her down the hall to her room.

She landed on the bed face first. It was hard to lift her head and breath and harder still when he pressed her face into the sheets.

She closed her eyes. This was easier. She didn’t have to look at his scarred face.

She was back in handcuffs now her face pressed up against the stone hard enough she could feel the coolness of it. Lauren’s hand was wrapped around her throat so hard couldn’t breathe.

She struggled for air, whimpering, and Lauren laughed at her. She laughed at her. Her Lauren wouldn’t laugh at her. She cared about her. She mattered to her. Lauren was kind, and sweet, and smart, and oh so competent, and strong, and she loved her, and she wouldn’t laugh at her. She wanted to be her more than anything.

So it was Lauren’s hands that slapped her ass, and Lauren who dug into her and fucked her hard enough she screamed her name.

“What did you say?” asked a voice distinctly not Lauren’s. “Did you say, Lauren? Are you thinking about Lauren Sinclair when I’m fucking you?!”

Belladonna’s hands tightened into fists tight enough her nails dug into her palms. “Do a better job then.”

“You bitch,” he snarled, before pushing himself into her ass without preparation or prompting.

She felt herself tear as she bit down on her cheek hard enough that she tasted blood to keep from screaming.

“See if you can ignore me now.”

She wasn’t sure how much longer she lasted. She only vaguely remembered it. She only vaguely remembered cleaning him off, choking on him.

Hours later she woke up her body aching. It hurt to move. It hurt just to exist in her own body so she chose not to. Still, she reached past the cum he’d left inside her, it didn’t worry her anymore she’d lost the ability to have children long before this, to see what kind of damage he’d done. It wasn’t terrible. She’d bled, and sitting was going to hurt for a while, but it could be worse. She’d had worse. Her arm bandage had bled through and blood was dripping down her arm.

She covered her face with her hand and started to laugh. She laughed until she shook, until she choked, until it turned into a sob, until she couldn’t breathe and all she could do was shake. She should shower. Her make up was a mess.

But she didn’t.

Her body protested but she pulled herself from the bed and stumbled over to where she kept her safe. She barely made it off the bed before her knees buckled and she had to crawl the last foot before collapsing against the cold metal. She pressed her ear to it as she listened to the comforting sound of the tumble lock.

From the safe, she pulled stack upon stack of hundreds that she rhythmically counted. One thousand. A boat. Two thousand. A passport. Three thousand. The start of another life. How much more did she need? How much more could she take until then?

In an office far from Greychapel near Nightingale Park, the Lauren in question stood in her nightgown and slippers, her hair pinned up, examining her board.

In two months, she’d accomplished more than she had in ten years and the prospect of getting somewhere for once was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. What if she didn’t like the answers to her questions? What if she was worse off for knowing? She brushed the thoughts away. Progress was progress and even if it had consequences at least it was something.

She’d left the window open to let the cold breeze and Kieran in who she’d barely heard enter before his arm snaked around her waist pulling her to him while he buried his face in her neck. No wonder he made such an excellent assassin.

He felt her tense at the touch and went to release her before she placed an arm over his.

“So how badly did it go?”

She could hear him grit his teeth before he said, “It…could have gone better.”

“You said that earlier,” she said drily as she tightened her grip on his arm. “What happened?”

Kieran sighed and she felt him mumble against her skin, “They know. They know you saw me, and they know your name, and it’s only a matter of time before they put together I lied in my report and you’re the same Sinclair that accosted Tim Sake.”

Lauren’s whole body was rigid, and her knuckles were white as she asked, “How did they find out?”

“I assume Harvey,” Kieran said his voice even, but she could detect a hint of panic. “Though I doubt he or I am the only mole in the precinct.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“I was a little busy.”

“Fantastic,” she muttered as she let go of his arm to drag her hand down her face. “And the rest of it?”

“The rest of it went fine,” Kieran said as he released her so he could pull the file given to him from his bag and pass it to her. “You’re officially my girlfriend. They think you’re smitten with me and I’m cordially invited to the meeting at the circus this Friday.”

Lauren took the file from him and stepped out of his reach to sit against the edge of her desk as she thumbed through it. “Is Belladonna going to be there?”

“Yes,” he said as he went over and sat beside her. “Why?”

“Does she still suspect you?” she asked setting the file down and fixing him with a piercing stare.

Kieran examined the question and shrugged. “Probably. I believe she told the messenger as much and he didn’t share her sentiments.”

His tone did much to imply the kind of consequence Belladonna might have experienced, and though the woman was a direct threat to her life, had killed her coworker, Lauren couldn’t bring herself to be thrilled by the idea of her being tortured.

“Are you going to kill her?” she asked with more calm then she felt as she returned to flipping through the file. There were important documents here, and yet was absorbing nothing but the pictures.

Kieran reached out and took the file from her before resting it on the desk. “Probably.”

Lauren examined his seriousness before catching his eyes and asking, “What happens if the Phantom Scythe realizes we’re Lune?”

Kieran sighed. “Best case scenario? They kill us in our sleep.”

“And the worst-case scenario?”

“What happened to Harvey will look like restraint.”

“Great,” Lauren muttered as she gripped the edge of the desk. What a perfect mess she had gotten herself into.

“Mon amour,” Kieran whispered as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him. She came willingly burying her face in his chest. “We could just leave.”

Lauren stiffened at the offer as she examined it. So many people were after them and the consequence of discovery was severe, but she couldn’t just leave. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, abandon what they’d started, and he knew that. She doubted whatever revenge he was craving could be satisfied with what they’d accomplished so far.

“What about bringing down the Phantom Scythe?” she asked as she sat up.

“What about it?” he asked with a cavalier tone he didn’t feel. “Dylan’s alive and—” God damn it.

Of all the things from yesterday he was aware he needed to report on Dylan, and his suddenly resurfacing was the thing he had most hoped to avoid telling her about. Sure he would have to do if eventually or risk her wrath, but not today. Not when she was so close to actually liking him did he want to introduce problems for himself. And yet in his infinite wisdom he had, so now he had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Lauren’s eyes went wide, and her hands shot to his shoulders. “He’s alive?” She could tell from his face he wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but she didn’t care. “You’ve seen him. Recently.”

“Yesterday,” Kieran admitted through gritted teeth.

“And he’s ok?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?” she asked a warning in her voice as her hands got tight around his collar.

Fantastic. “Nothing,” he said as he brought his hands to cover hers and the look in her eyes let him know he wasn’t going to get to skate by with that. “I might have punched him.”

“You punched him!” she said exasperated her hold on him tightening.

“He was going to tell people you can hear lies, Lauren! If you think we’re in danger now just wait until he starts running his mouth off!” he snapped.

Lauren dropped him and got up to walk over to her board.

Kieran’s hand fell to his lap and he sighed. She was angry with him again. Either for yelling, though he hadn’t meant to, or hitting Dylan, which he wouldn’t apologize for. It’d felt great hitting him and he’d do it again provided the opportunity. But that’s not what she wanted. To her, Dylan was the motivation for ten years of searching, and the only reason she’s even begun to process of tolerating him, and he’d hit him. Well, it was better than lying to her about it.

From her board, Lauren took down Dylan’s picture from the center. It was a ten-year-old photo and she couldn’t imagine what he looked like now. She could ask. She was sure by now Kieran would tell her if only to avoid her not speaking to him again. The corner of her lip quirked at the thought. He was missing a finger now because he’d failed some Phantom Scythe mission, and he was probably taller. He probably had the same training as Kieran and for whatever reason, they weren’t fond of one another. And despite everything she trusted Kieran’s judgment. Dylan wouldn’t be the same person he was when she’d last seen him, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t find him. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to know what had happened to him.

“What did Dylan use to say about me?” she asked finally not yet turning around as she placed his photo back in it’s home.

Kieran let out the breath he’d been holding waiting for her to whip around and start yelling so he was surprised by the question. Yet again he regretted introducing this line of inquiry but at least here he had leeway to not share the parts of the answer to her question that she wouldn’t want to know. “He’d tell us stories mostly, about the stuff you used to do as kids. He’d talk about how smart you were, and how you wanted to grow up and be a great detective.”

Lauren ran her fingers over the pins as she imagined Kieran, and Dylan, and probably Belladonna too from how Kieran spoke about her, together in a room, training to be assassins, talking about her, this great detective, who hadn’t even known two of them had even existed. How many other children who had gone missing had she failed?

“And that I’d find you,” she said finally when she turned to look at him.

He’d expected her to be angry, or at least upset with the idea that she’d been talked about like that, but instead, she just looked guilty, and on the verge of tears.

“You wanted me to find you and I—”

Kieran smiled honestly flattered. “You didn’t know I existed.”

“Yes, but I should have! I should have done something and—”

“You’re doing something now,” he said cutting her off.

“But not enough,” she said stubbornly as she raked her hands through her hair pulling it out of the carefully constructed bun, so it tumbled down into her shoulders.

“Lauren, you can’t be expected to save everyone,” he said. She didn’t seem to believe him, so he continued, “In two months you’ve accomplished more to bring down the Phantom Scythe than anyone.”

“And then you killed them.”

Oh, so we were back on that now were we. “And as I recall I apologized. It’s not as though they weren’t going to be executed. I just did it early.”

Lauren had made her way over to him and her hands rested on his knees, while he still sat braced against the edge of the desk. “The Phantom Scythe is going to kill us aren’t they.”

“They’re certainly going to try,” he said softly.

Lauren ran her hands up his legs to his shoulders before lifting her legs to move into his lap. “What was your favorite story?”

“Mm,” he hummed as he slid himself back to be more accommodating to her weight as he wrapped his arms around her waist to help lift her. “I like the story about you falling into the creek.”

Lauren laughed as she settled in his lap her legs pressing against his sides. “I didn’t realize the log we were walking on was rotted so I took a step and fell in.”

Kieran grinned as her as he slowly rolled her dress up over her legs. “When you fell you got caught in the current and a fish ended up trapped in your dress scaring you half to death when they got your ashore.”

Lauren leaned back as he pulled the rest of the dress off and dropped it on the floor before leaning back into him. “It was delicious though. I’ll have to take you fishing.”

“I’d enjoy that,” he whispered as he trailed his hand up her back before she leaned down and kissed him.

It was gentle at first, lips lightly pressed together before she slid her hands down his chest and unbuckled his belt, while he slipped his tongue between her teeth. She sought him out between the folds of fabric before he pushed her off, hooked his arms under her legs, and flipped her over onto the desk.

“Kieran why did you—” she whined before he pressed his lips to hers, and she tangled her hands in his hair. She wrapped her legs around him drawing him close, as he ground against her, already hard enough to easily press himself in but instead he only teased her.

She whined as his lips and teeth dragged over the hollow of her neck leaving bruises, as her own nails raked down his back. “Kieran please.”

“Please what, mon amour?” he asked as his lips sunk lower down her body until he could capture her breasts.

“Please,” she moaned as she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up so he’d look at her. “Fuck me.”

He smiled at her as she drew him up to her lips and held him there by locking her legs behind his back. With a soft laugh against them, he reached under her legs so he could maneuver himself inside her.

She gasped as she adjusted to the sensation of having him inside. It was different, a fullness she hadn’t anticipated, but she found she liked it. He made her moan as he made short slow thrusts to let her adjust.

When he was sure he wouldn’t hurt her, he asked, “Ready?”

She nodded not fully trusting her words, and not sure what she was agreeing to, but if it was more of this than she did so gladly.

Kieran pulled her up to him before lifting her off the desk and carried her to her board. He didn’t pull out. She wouldn’t have let him.

Once she was where he wanted her he slowly lowered her allowing him to sink deeper than he could have achieved on the desk. Lauren reveled in it burying his face in her neck as he ground into her.

“I love you,” he admitted between thrusts as she tossed her head back, face flushed.

He was savage now, and any answer she might have given him was lost to whimpers of his name as she dug her nails into his shoulder.

Finally, she expired, draping herself over him, before pulling him into a fierce kiss and giving him the answer he desperately craved, “I…love you too.”

He held her there, suspended, before stepping back and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Kieran?!” she snapped as he’d hooked his hand over her knees and headed for the door. “What are you doing?”

“Are you satisfied doing this just once?” he asked before pulling her down so he could hold her in his arms.

She was flushed but still glaring at him. “No, but—”

He grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I can walk.”

“Humor me,” he said as he carried her to her bedroom tossing a wave over his shoulder as he went.

Out the window that gave a view to the board bearing his face, Dylan stood in the street. His knuckles were white against his camera as he pulled himself away from the viewfinder. He popped the camera open with shaking hands as he took out the film and exposed it to the lamplight. He didn’t want to see this. No one needed to see this. He wished he could burn the memory away as easily as he did film.

Kieran was right. Kieran was hurting her, dragging her into this mess, and he was going to protect her. But he couldn’t watch her with him. He just…couldn’t. Besides, he was sure he would get orders from his Apostle in the morning.  

Chapter Text

The next morning came too soon, and the alarm too loud, starling Lauren out of the cocoon of Kieran’s arms. He woke too, blinked in the direction of the nuisance before reaching out and turning it off.

Lauren groaned. “We have to go to work.”

“We could call in sick.”

“And how would that look?” Lauren asked as she leaned on her elbow to give him a wry glance.

He shrugged but didn’t move. “Only a suggestion, my love.”

Lauren blushed but recovered quickly. “What was ‘mon amour’ not good enough for you?”

Kieran chuckled under his breath before pulling her down into a kiss. “Not now that I know you care about me.”

Lauren rolled on top of him and pressed him down to deepen the kiss before pulling back just enough to breathe. “Someone’s getting big for their britches, subordinate.”

His hand tangled in her hair before he rolled his hips up against her. “I think we both know I’m not small.”

Lauren rolled her eyes then and pushed off him to retreat towards the bathroom. “Did you bring something to wear or am I stealing clothes from my uncle?”

“Do you think I didn’t come prepared?” he asked as he sat up and swung his legs, so he was sitting on the end of the bed.

“Of course, you did,” she said more to herself than anything. “Are you going to the cave later?” she asked as she walked past him and started going through her drawers.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but I can why?”

Lauren gathered a stack of a few sets of clothes, a picture of her parents, and a few sentimental items before returning to where he was sitting and handing them to him. “You’d said I should leave clothes at the cave, so I stop taking yours.”

“Oh,” he said as he took them from her before pulling her down and was about to kiss her when something occurred to him and he stopped. “Is your uncle home?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, he’d be gone by now,” she said before leaning in and finishing what he started.

Kieran hummed against her lips and tried to pull her into his lap before she stopped him.

“Kieran, I need to shower.”

“I could join you.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “No, thank you.”

“Am I distracting?” he asked having managed to pull her onto his lap but not down onto the bed.

Lauren mussed his hair. “Very.”

With a whine he let her go, but it did mean he got to go through her things. She’d been through his, so it was only fair.

Her room was sparse. Not surprising but he expected some element of her to be reflected in her decor. Though, perhaps, sparse did reflect her. The office, and her board, much better reflected her intensity than pale curtains and canopied beds. She had books though, several. They had a hobby in common apparently. He recognized some, murder mysteries, historical dramas, and The Secret Garden. He pulled it out and thumbed through the pages before sliding it back into its home. She had a desk here too, and pictures arranged in frames around an empty notepad. He opened it and flipped through it. Notes for Lune. Ever the diligent officer. She had a framed photo of her and Will from graduation, and a middle-aged couple he took as her parents. She had awards too pinned to her wall for marksmanship, and academic achievement. She’d always been perfect, talented. No wonder not finding Dylan would drive her crazy.

He was dressed by the time she returned.

“You didn’t go through my things, did you?” she asked as she returned as crossed to the closet where she pulled out her usual uniform.

“Is there something you wouldn’t want me to find?” he teased over his shoulder.

She glared at his back recognizing he hadn’t truly answered the question, but not caring enough to press him.

When she immerged dressed, he got up and the door before gesturing her through it with a mock bow.

She glared.

He grinned before following her out.

They made it as far as the stairs before Lauren came to a sudden halt and Kieran nearly tripped over her.

“Lauren!” called her uncle from where he was sitting, “Come have breakfast with me…and friend.”

Kieran’s jaw tightened and Lauren glanced back up towards him.

“I thought you said he wasn’t home,” Kieran said in a voice barely above a breath.

“He’s not supposed to be.”

Lauren turned and smiled at her uncle before descending the stairs Kieran in tow. “Are you sure you won’t be late for work?”

Tristian gave her a tight smile and Lauren noticed that under his gaze Kieran shifted, stiffening like he had in the cave before dropping into how he was at the office. None of that seemed to change the intensity with which Tristian inspected him or the tightness in his jaw.

“Lauren, I’m the commissioner, I’m not sure I can be late to work.”

Her hands rested on top of the chair as she tried again to get out of sitting down.

“Uncle, I don’t want to be late and—”

“Nonsense,” he said gesturing to her seat. “You have plenty of time. Eat breakfast with me.”

It wasn’t a request, so she sat, and Kieran followed suit, his eyes sliding towards her for a sense of direction. She had little to offer him except to be polite.

“Alright,” she said teasingly through pursed lips. “But if Hermann yells at me I’m blaming you.”

Tristian gave a raucous laugh. “Yes, I’m sure Hermann would enjoy that.”

It was a quick look, but menace crossed his eyes almost briefly.

“How is work?” Tristian asked. “I haven’t seen you much lately.”

Lauren shrugged vaguely unable to describe in words when work had been like as of recently. “It’s fine. Busy. What about you? You’re rarely home even when I am home.”

Tristian pursed his lips. “Lauren if you want to talk to Hermann I—”

“Uncle it’s fine,” Lauren said cutting him off. “I don’t need your help. I don’t want it to look like favoritism. I messed up. And I’ll fix it.”

Lauren glanced at Kieran who seemed to be actively avoiding participating in what was already an uncomfortable family breakfast even without him here.

Tristian seemed to notice him again too and sighed. His face looked guilty. “It seems I’ve been gone often enough I’m out of touch. Who’s your friend?”

Kieran seemed eager to have a non-family drama related moment to introduce himself and stuck out his hand. “Kieran White. I’m the new archivist at the 11^th precinct. I’m her boyfriend.”

It would never not be strange to hear him call himself her boyfriend.

It seemed to rankle Tristian too, though Lauren was unsure what other impression he could have gotten from a man descending the stairs with her in the morning other than a romantic relationship.

“I did tell you to get one didn’t I,” he muttered under his breath more to himself than anything before smiling at Kieran before it didn’t reach his eyes.

She’d gotten over Dylan by hooking up with the man who’d agreed to help her find him. Funny how things worked out.

“You like him?” Tristian asked.

Lauren rankled at the rudeness of the question and set down her fork. “I am dating him.”

Tristian laughed to alleviate some of the tension of the table. “Fair enough. Where did you two meet?”

“At work,” Kieran said automatically, and Lauren gave him a warning look.

He didn’t return it.

Tristian cocked his head. “But didn’t they just hire a new archivist?” he asked.

Why would he know that? That was so far below something that would matter to him unless…

Kieran laughed softly and Lauren kicked him under the table.

He ignored her.

“Not this job. I owned a small floral business before this. Hopefully, I’m a better archivist than I am a florist.” Kieran gave Tristian a smile.

“I hope so too,” Tristian said finally portioning his own plate his tone and eyes cold. “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple of months,” Lauren said.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Tristian asked sounding hurt.

Lauren shrugged apologetically, and almost sincerely. “I haven’t seen you.”

Tristian sighed. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Are both of you free for dinner on Friday for a family dinner?”

“We’re actually got tickets for the circus on Friday unfortunately,” Kieran said, and Lauren noticed the ghost of a frown cross his lips.

“That is unfortunate,” Tristian said, “Then are you both free Saturday?”

“I don’t think we’ll be doing anything,” Lauren said as she stood up from the table and Kieran followed suit. “It was good to see you uncle,” she said as she rounded the table and hugged him around the shoulders before planting a kiss on his forehead, “But we do need to go to work. Kieran’s still new and I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you later then.”

“See you uncle,” she said as the collected the last of their things and left.

Part of the walk was done in silence before Lauren said, “You’re committing to this florist thing aren’t you.”

Kieran laughed. “You were who initially suggested it.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Will suggested it. I just went along with it.”

“Does it suit me?” Kieran asked still teasing.

“More than what you do now?” she answered and watched Kieran’s face falter. “What did you want to be? Before this.”

Kieran sighed the teasing gone. “I…I’ve been doing this long enough I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“What about afterward?” she asked softly.

“What about afterward.”

It was then that she realized he hadn’t planned out what success would look like for them, and neither had she. They find the leader, they arrest or kill them, and then what? She pushed the thought away.

“That went well.”

Kieran’s mouth once again adopted a tight smile.

“He didn’t threaten you.”

“I might have preferred that,” Kieran said before regretting it.

Lauren’s eyes flashed as she asked, “Why?”

Kieran went to open his mouth a few times before closing it. Eventually, he said, “Ask me when we’re not out on the street.”

Her eyes formed her question before Kieran glanced over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.

Lauren followed his gaze and saw nothing but Kieran slowly shaking his head with a low laugh.

“We work together now darling. You have all the time in the world,” Kieran said arriving at the door to the APD and holding it open for her.

Lauren gave him a suspicious look, but he ignored it and instead headed off to the archives leaving her to walk to her desk alone.

The office was dead.

Even Lila who was normally here first thing and perky wasn’t at her desk. Only Lucas sat with his cup of blacker than night coffee sipping it like a fine wine.

Finally, once Lauren had taken a seat, Kym appeared with bags under her eyes that made her look even more like a raccoon than her strange little hands did.

Her feet dragged until she spotted Lauren and she perked up. “Hello!” she called with less than her normal enthusiasm but more than anyone should have this early in the morning.

“Be quiet,” Lucas growled, not looking up from his report.

Kym stuck her tongue out at him before heading over to Lauren’s desk. “I’m not going to be here long anyway. Suck it up.”

Lucas glared.

Kym ignored him.

“How was your stakeout?” Lauren asked as she shuffled her paperwork and placed it off to the side so Kym could half sit on her desk.

Kym flushed. “Boring.”

“Uh-huh,” Lauren said adopting a slight grin while Kym wrinkled her nose.

“I hate how you just know things,” Kym said.

“It’s a talent,” Lauren returned with a grin. “Where’s Will?”

“Giving Hermann a report and then we are going home.”

“Together?” Lauren asked.

The blush reached Kym’s ears. “No! Separately! To our own houses. I live with my parents, Lauren!”

Lauren laughed. “So, you told him then?” It seemed matchmaker could be Kieran’s secondary occupation if his other two ever fell through.

Kym stared at the floor. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“We are going to have to talk about this,” Lauren said teasing her.

Kym mock glared at Lauren. “How did your date go?”

“So, it was a date.”

“Stop using your detective skills for evil, Lauren.”

“Never.”

“What’s this about Lauren using her detective skills for evil?” Will asked as he walked in set files down on Lila’s desk.

“Lauren is making fun of me,” Kym said with a pout.

“I am doing nothing of the sort,” she replied while Will gave her a studying look before shaking his head.

Will sighed. “Kym, leave Lauren alone.”

Kym’s pout deepened. “You wound me, William.”

“I’m sure that’s the only thing he does.”

All three of them stopped and slowly turned to look at Lucas who stopped mid-sip to stare back at them.

“Lucas,” Will started before Lucas cut him off.

“None of you are subtle,” he said before finishing his drink, and getting up to get more.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose as much to hide the blush spreading across his face as to ward off the headache that was building.

“Well,” Kym said, “I’m exhausted. So, I’m going home. Oh, but Lauren before I leave there was something, we saw that you might want to know.”

“We saw Tim Sake leaving Ryan Flemming’s office last night,” Will said as he dropped his hand. “Do you have any idea why he would do that?”

Lauren paled but managed to keep a straight face. “I don’t keep abreast of Tim Sake’s activities but thank you for letting me know.”

Kym noticed and narrowed her eyes before looking away and adding, “Wasn’t Flemmings business associates with some of the people Lune arrested?”

Lauren’s jaw tightened. “I…think so. Why?”

Kym shook her head and got up. “Nothing.”

Will narrowed his eyes at Kym whose lips tightened before she smiled at Lauren. “You and Kieran are going out on Friday, right?”

“We are.” How much of that conversation had Kym heard?

“Would you want to go with Will and I to get drinks on Thursday as a welcome to the office party/you’re Lauren’s boyfriend we’d like to get to know you party?” Kym asked.

“I’ll ask him,” Lauren said. “He’s not much of a drinks person.”

Kym shrugged and waved. “Let me know! See you all later!”

She left Will awkwardly standing next to Lauren’s desk before he went over to collect his coat.

“You finally told her then?”

Will sighed. “She dragged it out of me.”

“I’m happy for you,” Lauren said. “You two are sweet together.”

Will laughed. “She’ll be the death of me. I’ll see you later,” he said before stopping in front of her desk again as he walked by. “Lauren, are you ok with Kieran?”

Lauren blinked at the question. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head before he kept walking. “Nothing. Forget I asked.”

Lauren’s eyes followed him out before she shook her own head and returned to her work.

Lucas eventually returned, and Lila arrived, flustered at being late but relieved when she saw the office practically empty anyway.

 Without the usual distractions, Lauren finished early and excused herself with her files to the archive.

Kieran was hunched over his desk surprised to see her when she came in.

“I didn’t expect to see you until lunch.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked as she closed the door behind her and set the files on his desk.

“Never,” he said as Lauren sat down on the edge of his desk and rested her head against his. “What’s wrong?”

“Your matchmaking went well.”

He grinned. “Did it? But why do I get the idea that’s a bad thing?”

“They saw Tim Sake leaving Ryan Flemmings’ office and Kym asked me about it since Tim Sake and I have history and Flemmings’ has ties to people arrested by Lune.”

The unintended consequences of having the two officers they suspected were investigating Lune washed over Kieran and he covered his face with his hand. When he dragged it to cover his mouth his eyes were brilliant. “Do you want me to handle it?”

“No,” Lauren said taking his hand though her knuckles were white. “It was an honest question.”

“Honest questions have consequences.”

“I’m not letting you hurt my friends, Kieran,” Lauren said in a sharp tone.

Kieran let the air of his lungs with a sigh and pulled his hand away slowly. “It doesn’t sound as though they learned anything we didn’t already know.”

“That’s the thing,” Lauren said, “I’d assumed Tim Sake was the associate overseas, but I’m wondering if he’s more central to the overall operation, like an apostle.”

Kieran tapped the desk before leaning back and pulling his hair out of his ponytail so he could rake his hands through his hair. “Well, that wouldn’t be the only suspected apostle we’ve met so far.”

“What was that?”

Kieran stopped and looked up to see steel in Lauren’s eyes. Slowly he tied his hair back up as tightness settled back in his jaw. “Your uncle is Phantom Scythe.”

“Because he was tense at breakfast?”

“You know that’s not the only reason,” Kieran said responding to the sharpness in her tone with some of his own. “Lauren, he recognized me. Outside of my on-paper job.”

Lauren unconsciously copied his motion raking her hand through her hair. Finally, she rested her hand over his and gripped it hard enough that it hurt. “How do you know?”

“The flowers,” Kieran said, “And if I was going to put in as a mole it would have had to have been run through someone in the police department.”

“And you assume it’s my uncle for that reason.”

“You didn’t think it was odd he knew your precinct was missing an archivist when you didn’t?”

Lauren’s lips tightened over her teeth as she said, “I’ve been busy.”

“Not that busy.”

“Lauren—”

“Stop it.”

And he did.

She withdrew her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose as it could snuff out the feelings broiling inside her. She wasn’t managing it but it was abating some of the mounting headache and nausea.

“What would he get out of it?” she said finally. “I understand Tim Sake. Money. Power. Revenge. But why would my uncle do it?”

“Maybe he wanted to be commissioner.”

A sick feeling washed over Lauren and the nausea was back. 

She remembered going to the precinct with her dad as a kid. Telling the senior officers one day she’d be a great policeman, a great detective. He’d been the commissioner right up until he and her mom went sailing over a cliff, and she couldn’t remember afterward. It’d been busy with the funeral, and Dylan missing, and the city in chaos, and her uncle had moved in, and he’d replaced him. He hadn’t been the best fit for the job, but he’d replaced him. There’d been whispers of nepotism but that’d gone over her head at twelve, but now, with this, it was harder to ignore. It would go a long way to explain Herman’s blatant antagonism.

“Are you alright?” Kieran asked settling a hand on her leg.

Her head snapped towards him; he flinched.

Slowly she took a breath and whispered, “No. But I have to go back to work. Are you free on Thursday? Will and Kym wanted to get drinks with us.”

“Do you want to go?”

Lauren let a shaky breath and shook her head. “No. But it’ll be more suspicious if we don’t. It’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t.

On Thursday evening after work all four of them stood outside of the Golden Clover. It had been an adventure of a walk to say the least following Kym. They’d gotten lost at least twice, and each time they did Lauren and Kieran were hoping the entire affair would end and they could go home. Unfortunately, eventually, they ended up at their destination and the pair shared a look that radiated concern. Even Will didn’t seem as though he wanted to be here.

“Why are we at the Golden Clover?” Lauren asked like it was because it was a posh bar that they as plebeians had no reason going to and not because less than a month ago, she and Kieran had been here under different circumstances.

Kym shrugged. “I had one of their drinks after we raided the place and they’re great. Strong. Not terribly expensive. Good atmosphere. They have watermelon shots.”

“Of course, they do,” Kieran said into his hand like he wanted to die.

He and Lauren shared a glance that asked the other if they wanted to invent a reason they couldn’t attend. But before one, or both, could invent a sudden illness Kym was pulling them inside.

Once they were through the doors, they were both stuck and begged the other to be on their best behavior. This was a work outing. They could treat it like a work outing and not be suspicious. Lauren had worn a disguise. They’d be fine.

They left their coats at the door and Kym spun in the small antechamber. “I love how fancy this place is.”

“It’s probably why we shouldn’t be here,” Will said drily. Even out of uniform he still read like a cop.

Kym stopped and frowned at him. “Of course, you’d say that,” she said and then gestured at Will and Lauren. “You two are rich.”

Lauren shrugged her assent to that since she couldn’t argue, and Kieran coughed.

Kym wiped towards him and he regretted attracting her attention.

“Do you want to go see if they have darts?” she asked her eyes sparkling.

Kieran examined the request for danger before nodding. “Sure. I enjoy a challenge.”

Kym got a wicked smile on her lips. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent marksman.”

“That’s with a gun, officer,” he teased before following her into the bar.

Once they were out of earshot Will asked, “Are we dating children?”

“Possibly,” Lauren said with a laugh.

Will sighed. “Do you want a drink?”

“Desperately,” Lauren said. “We should get one and then supervise. I wouldn’t want them to hurt themselves.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find a way, anyways,” Will said as he began to walk towards the bar.

Lauren followed quickly falling in step beside him.

“How are you and Kieran?” Will asked.

“You asked me that on Tuesday. What do you mean?” Lauren asked as she examined the side of his face.

Will considered the question, and how best to ask the delicate question he wanted to ask. Finally, he said, “When we’d talked last you’d said you were having trouble with him, and he was irritating, and then we never see you, and he shows up at the office and you flinch around him, and you don’t talk to him, and then suddenly everyone knows you’re dating, and Lucas almost caught you doing…out in the open, and Kym said you hadn’t seemed enthusiastic when he’d kissed you, and he hit me, and I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Lauren absorbed the question in waves. From the outside, her relationship with Kieran must seem strange. It was strange. And Will, and she assumed Kym’s concern was admirable. She had no doubt that should she agree to the danger underlined in his question Will would have her out of her, Kym close behind, and Kieran arrested by the end of the day. But she didn’t want that. Strange as it was to think she didn’t want that.

“We’re fine. He’s apologized and I,” Lauren said as she tried to consider her next words carefully, “Wasn’t being entirely fair.”

Will’s jaw tightened to a hard line as he pulled out his wallet and laid cash on the bar. “I’ll cover your drinks. But… you're fine?”

“Didn’t I promise you I would tell you if I wasn’t?” Lauren asked as she reached out and put a hand on his arm.

He didn’t flinch but his lips slipped into a pained smile. “I’m not you. I don’t know when you lie to me,” he said under his breath before he lightly pulled his arm away and gestured to the bar. “I know what Kym wants. What about you?”

“Are you covering Kieran as well?” Lauren asked as she slowly returned her hand to her side and looked away.

She missed the corner of Will’s mouth pulled back in distasted before he said, “I assume so since I’m covering everyone else for the first round at least.”

“You’re planning on having more than one?” Lauren asked with genuine surprise.

Will shrugged and gestured to the bar again. “Or I can get you your usual.”

Lauren hummed before sighing. “Sure. Pint of Guinness.”

“Ever predictable.”

“You like that about me.”

“I do,” Will said. “And what will Kieran be having?”

“Sex on the beach?” Lauren asked teasingly.

She didn’t get a laugh, or even a smile. “Blood and sand? Or is he not a drinker?”

Lauren sighed. “Whiskey on the rocks seems like a safe choice.”

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t exactly discuss our drink orders.”

Though she knew how he liked his coffee. Black with nothing else, same as hers. Why they went to coffee shops she had no idea. They could make that at home.

Will ordered the drinks, a Black and Tan, for himself before resting his hands on the bar.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them and Lauren went to say something but never quite found the words. Eventually, their drinks came, and it was too late.

She took hers and Kieran’s and went to wait since Kym’s was going to take a second, but Will waved her off.

“No, go supervise,” he said giving her a smile, “Someone needs to go be the adult.”

Lauren smiled in return. “Who knows what mischief they could be up to now.”

Will laughed and watched her go before turning back to the bar and ordering a shot of absinthe. He downed it with enthusiasm. Once the licorice burned the bile away, he asked the bartender, “Was he, the man there, here the night the police raided the place?”

The bartender sized Will up before following his gesture to Kieran. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re talking about the handsome one, right?” the other bartender a woman who passed the age she might be called beautiful, said.

“The tall one with the dark hair, yes.”

“He was here.”

“Was the red-headed woman with him,” Will asked as his fingers tightened on the bar.

She shook her head. “No, he was with a dark-haired woman. Good dancers the two of them. Got the whole place a flutter.”

A dark-haired woman?

“But she talked to your friend before the police showed up.”

Will stopped. “My friend?”

The woman’s stare answered his question. “Ah. My friend,” he muttered. “Pity that.”

“Pity,” she said, “But if your friends want their coat back there’s one in coat check that hasn’t been claimed, and they’re the only ones I can recall who hasn’t come back for it.”

Will sighed and then adopted the most charming smile. “Thank you. I’ll let them know.”

“Of course,” she said, and passed him the drinks.

He carried them to the back corner where the three of them stood crowded around a table, and the dartboard. It appeared Kym was losing by a wide margin.

“Officer, have you even played darts before?” Kieran teased gesturing to the dart embedded in the wall. “The goal is to land on the target.”

Kym stuck her tongue out at him, and he gave her a warm laugh in response.

He sounded calm, natural, like a normal person.

“I know that, Kieran,” she complained. “I’ll have you know I’m normally better than this.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he said as he went to collect the darts.

Will set Kym’s drink down behind her and whispered in her ear, “There’s an unclaimed coat in coat check.”

A sadness overtook Kym’s eyes as her body stiffened and a smile remained on her lips. “Not all of us can be deadly accurate with small pointed objects.”

Kieran’s hand hesitated over his final dart in the center of the board as he realized the purpose of the game. Fool of him to trust her. Fool of him to think he could let his guard down and enjoy being normal for a moment. Fool of him to enjoy Kym’s company.

“It just takes practice,” he said as he plucked the final dart and turned to face the three of them.

Lauren hid behind her drink but even he could see her knuckles were white.

“Like boxing,” Will asked taking a sip of his own and Kieran had to restrain himself from glaring in his direction.

“You’re not still mad about that are you?” Kieran asked apologetically.

Will shrugged. “You hit me in the face.”

Kieran sighed and walked over to Lauren who he put an arm around.

He saw Will stiffen in response and measured his words carefully. “I apologize. I hadn’t intended to. I’d be willing to try again if you’re interested. Show you how to strengthen your guard.”

Will pursed his lips and shook his head. “No thank you. Once was enough for me.”

Lauren and Kym drank greedily from their glasses before Kym asked, “Does anyone want a second one?”

No one responded.

Kym worried her lip and sighed. “Well, I’m going to the bathroom then.”

She didn’t get a response but scurried off leaving the three in an uncomfortable silence.

“So how is working with your partner?” Will asked finally.

“Asking for personal reference?” Kieran responded as he sipped his drink.

Will was less able to control his glare. “I understand you had some hand in that.”

Kieran smiled, sly, but not unkindly. “Kym asked for help. I provided her with an opportunity. And it seems congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you,” Will said. “How are you liking working at the precinct?”

“It’s good,” Kieran said lightly squeezing Lauren who’d fallen silent and was staring into her glass. “I’m enjoying getting to know everyone so far.”

And then Kym returned with the coat.

Kieran recognized it instantly as Lauren’s from their infiltration. His eyes were more brilliant than normal but perhaps that was a trick of the light.

“One of the bartenders said this might be your coat,” she said as she offered it to him. “Or your dates.”             

Lauren watched as Kieran took the coat from Kym and handled it. It couldn’t be used as evidence if he handled it. But would that matter if they already had probable cause? Would evidence for a case he’d never live to see matter to the Phantom Scythe if they could get Kieran behind bars? Her behind bars?              

Maybe she should have let him kill them.              

Bile rose in her throat and she began to choke on her drink.              

Kieran’s arms tightened around her as he asked concerned, “Lauren, are you ok?”              

Lauren flinched and pushed his arm away.              

Quickly Kym was at her side, crowding her, fretting over her.              

She stepped back and bumped into the table. “I’m fine,” she said, “I just…I’m going to the bathroom.”              

She didn’t wait for an answer. She didn’t look back to see three pairs of concerned eyes follow her there.              

The bathroom was small, clean, and remarkably well furnished. There was a chaise near the door where she was sure many a lady had laid to recover from a fainting spell or indulge in illicit rendezvous.              

The water from the tap was cold, and soothing on her face as she splashed it up from the bowl.              

She hadn’t meant that. She wouldn’t do that. Even considering the idea was vile, but wouldn’t it be easier without them.              

Lauren almost retched again and rested her head on the smooth granite of the sink.              

No. She was afraid. She was afraid to go to jail. She was afraid to be killed. She was afraid to see Kieran hurt. See him die. And because she was afraid, she was thinking drastically.              

She didn’t really want her friends dead. She didn’t mean it.              

But she’d considered it. She was changing, and she wasn’t sure it was for the better.               

She should stop. Before it was too late. Before someone got hurt.

People have already got hurt. People have died.

What’s a little more injury?

They know enough already for probable cause.

No, they don’t. If they did why would they be fishing like this.

They shouldn’t have come. She should have said no.

But she wanted to see them. She missed them. She missed being, feeling, normal. How long had it been since things felt normal?

Just get through this. Tomorrow. And Saturday.

It’s not that hard.

The door to one of the stalls opened and out stepped Belladonna.

Lauren looked up and saw her captured in the mirror. Her whole body tensed, and she reached for an absent gun. Never had she felt so exposed.

Belladonna seemed just as surprised as she to see her there, but she recovered her poise quickly and began to walk to the sink.

Lauren straightened and angled her body, so she kept Belladonna perpetually in her sight.

But she didn’t do anything.

She washed her hands. She dried them.

She lingered at the counter slowly pulling something from her clutch.

Lauren expected a knife. Lauren expected to be murdered. Her hands twitched ready to slam her head into the mirror if needed.

She didn’t expect it to be a tube of lipstick that Belladonna slowly applied to her lips before sliding her eyes in Lauren’s direction.

She shivered under the intensity of her gaze.

Eventually, Belladonna returned the tube to her clutch and slowly passed by Lauren on her way out.

Once she was gone Lauren collapsed against the counter. She should have called for someone. She should have arrested her. But she was afraid. Afraid she’d kill her. Afraid she’d reveal her and Kieran as Lune.

What was she turning into?

Outside, Belladonna leaned against the bathroom door to still her beating heart and calm the blush that spread across her cheeks.

What was Lauren doing here?

And so suddenly.

She shouldn’t surprise her like that. It gave her ideas. And hopes.

Meeting her in a bar. Taking her home with her.

She added her confused, flushed face to her folder of potential interactions as she pushed off the door. If she didn’t have Dylan waiting at the table, she’d have gone back in there. She’d have done more. Unfortunately, she wasn’t at liberty to do so.

She’d run into Dylan in an alley on her way home from work. She was walking because it worked off the nervous energy that came from ending a life. Crushing the hope and dreams and potential of a person and turning them into a corpse. It was never not thrilling. Even when it was a lover. It when it was a message as much to her as to the rest of the Phantom Scythe. Tim Sake was a jealous man. She’d been kind too. A good lover.              

It hadn’t been surprising to see him. The moonlight caught his hair and made it glow around his cap pulled down over his eyes. He was taller, lankier, but he still looked the same. He was still missing a finger.              

“Belladonna,” he said, as he stepped out the shadow and she could see the bruise under his eye, “I need your help.”              

She quirked a smile at him. “Not even a hello before you start asking for favors. How typical of you.”              

She went to brush past him, but he caught her arm, her injured arm, and she let out a noise of surprise and pain.              

“Did he hurt you too?” Dylan asked genuine shock in his voice.              

Belladonna whipped around and pressed Dylan to the wall knife to his throat. “You have my attention,” she snapped, “What do you want?”              

“I want your help,” he said softly his eyes sliding to the knife that hovered over his Adam’s apple. “I…you know about Kieran and Lauren.”              

Belladonna pressed the blade in further. It wasn’t poisoned, but she savored Dylan’s fear that it might be.              

Of course, she knew. Everyone knew. It was hard not to. And she was furious. Of course, he would. It was just like him to do something like this. Drag Lauren into their mess. Drag Lauren into being Lune.              

Dylan examined her silence with a pity that nearly cost him his eyes, but Belladonna restrained her eager hands. She wouldn’t do so again, and he knew that.              

“Do you even have an idea before you come begging for my help?” she snarled.              

Dylan looked away.              

“Of course, you don’t,” she said with a sigh as she dragged the blade along his jaw. “You come to me and expect me to fix all of your problems. Just like before. Just like always. You haven’t changed at all.”              

“Neither have you,” he said, and her blade stopped. “You’re exactly like I remember you. The hair’s new though.”              

Belladonna lowered her blade to remove the top button of his shirt. “You like it?” This shouldn’t be working. It seemed he had learned something overseas.              

He gave her a warm smile and hesitantly lifted a hand.              

She allowed him to stroke her hair as she stepped in closer to him.              

“It suits you.”              

She laughed with a low bitterness before asking, “You still take pictures?”              

“I do.”              

“And you’re still following Lauren around?”              

Dylan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Since I’ve been back.”              

Belladonna couldn’t help the cruel smile that spread across her lips as she put her blade away and whispered in his ear. “And you have pictures of them together.”              

“I did,” Dylan said as he wrapped an arm around her waist.              

“You could get more?”              

“Of course, I can,” he hissed as she sunk her teeth into his neck.              

She laughed at him before lifting his wounded hand up and flicking her tongue over the missing knuckle. “Then I do believe I have a plan.”              

His eyes darkened with lust as he huskily whispered, “I knew you would come up with something. You’re the smart one after all.”              

Belladonna wrapped her arms around his shoulder and laughed in his ear. “Careful. I might enjoy that.”              

“Maybe that’s the goal,” he purred before she pulled his lips down into hers.              

He kissed her with a fierceness, a desperation, to be better, to be wanted, to impress her. Teeth clicked and caught. Lips bruised.              

Finally, Dylan picked her up and set her on a trashcan he held steady with his foot before, but she stopped him with her leg before he could go further.              

“Dylan,” she tsked, as she sat up and ran a hand down his chest to his belt buckle. “This is nowhere to discuss business. Get a drink with me.”              

And he’d been eager to please.              

Plans had been discussed, and a deal struck. But he’d yet to pay his pound of flesh and she was going to collect.            

She pushed off the door and headed towards the table she’d left him at. As much as she would love to linger and wait for Lauren to come out of the bathroom it wasn’t good timing. It was never good timing, but she’d deal with that later. Besides, she was sure Kieran was around here somewhere, lurking.              

As she walked back to her table, she spotted two officers she recognized, Kym Ladell and William Hawkes, Harvey’s superiors, and Lauren’s friends. She didn’t catch the details of their conversations but from how pale Kieran looked Belladonna liked them immensely. Were the police looking for Lune too? Who would catch them first she wondered?              

She returned to her seat and realized she could see the corner where the three were standing, where Lauren would eventually return to, and Dylan couldn’t. How delightful.              

Dylan has extinguished his cigarette, ground it into the ashtray in the center of the table. She’d offered him one when they’d sat down. She’d been surprised he’d taken it. It was a habit he’d picked up overseas. It was a habit she’d picked up from Tim Sake, and one of the things that had sent her to the bathroom to freshen up.              

“Better?” he asked as she joined him.   

She didn’t answer only turn to drape an arm around his shoulder and pull him into her. He was difficult to move but she was persuasive. “You still haven’t paid for my help,” she purred in his ear.              

“Is ruining Kieran’s life not enough of a reward?” he asked as he sipped his drink.             

She laughed and wrapped her hand around his neck so she could turn his face to look at her. “That’s later. I’m more interested in an advance. You had pictures?”              

Dylan tried to look away, but she held his face firmly. “I…did.”              

“And?”              

“And I don’t anymore,” he said coldly.              

Belladonna hissed through her teeth. “I want details then.”              

Dylan laughed softly. “Why? You know what he’s like.”              

“Not about him,” she snapped. “I don’t need to know what Kieran is like as a fuck I want to know about Lauren.”              

Dylan gritted his teeth. “Please don’t ask me.”              

Belladonna narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip. She adjusted her body so she could watch the room Lauren would eventually return to while her other hand unbuckled his belt.             

“Dylan, I don’t care what you want,” she purred. “He gets to fuck her. You get to watch. And what about me. You both think you care more about her cause you’re men. But I wasn’t asking.”      

Dylan’s eyes darkened and he let out a shaky breath. “What do you want from me?”              

“Details,” she asked as she slipped his free of his pants. “Is she as good as we think she is?”              

“Better,” he hissed, “Much better.”              

“How?” she asked as she ghosted her hand over him.              

“She’s real. She’s beautiful.”              

“Are her nipples as pink as I thought they were?”              

Dylan let out a shaky laugh as she tugged on him. “Yes.”              

“I knew it,” she purred. “What else?” Her hand was faster now.              

“She blushes. Badly. It goes all the way down her chest. And she bites her lip.”              

Lauren was back out of the bathroom, pale and frightened.              

“What else?” she asked as she ground against his hip.              

“She’s loud.”              

“A screamer or a moaner,” she asked as she worked him.              

Her whole body was tense, almost shaking as she went and leaned against Kieran.              

“Moaner,” he said biting down his own.              

Kieran with stiff as well his eyes searching the bar.              

“Her legs shake when she cums.”              

Belladonna ran her teeth over his neck.             

Lauren turned to search as well.              

She caught both of their eyes as they spotted her in the booth, Lauren looked terrified, and Kieran’s eyes were brilliant, as Dylan rested his head against the table to muffle the noise he was making.              

Kieran wrapped an arm around Lauren’s shoulder and pulled her out of view. She could still see the two officers though. How concerned they looked.              

Belladonna pulled her hand free and cleaned it off with her tongue.             

“If you’re supposed to follow them, Dylan,” she teased. “You best hurry. I believe they’re just leaving.”

Dylan looked up from the table and followed her gaze to the part of the bar he couldn’t see. He gritted his teeth, and adjusted himself back into his pants, before sliding back out of the booth. He’d taken maybe a few steps to follow them before he whipped back around and tugged Belladonna into a harsh kiss.

He smeared her lipstick.

Her soft laugh followed him out.

Belladonna swirled her drink as the officers passed by her table speaking in hushed tones about how suspicious it was that they’d left so suddenly.

She knocked the drink back.

“Run fast Kieran. You’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Chapter Text

At six as the citizens of the city sat down at dinner tables Kieran arrived like the specter of death to pick Lauren up for their date. Work had been hell. They’d barely dragged themselves through the day, avoiding each other unless it was strictly needed. It’d been worse the night before as they walked home from the Golden Clover in fraught silence unable to convey the terror, they both felt outside of small touches under the watchful eye of their shadow. She never saw them, but the tightness of Kieran’s frame as he walked beside her much to impress upon her the severity of their situation.              

You could bury a body in the bags under their eyes but that seemed to do nothing to diminish Lauren’s beauty. She was breathtaking in a wool dress that the stars would look at home in, and the hem hung low enough to cover the pants she wore underneath. If asked it would be easy to say it was to ward off the cold that hung in the air, but they were more practical for an investigation, though not nearly as romantic, and they desired the lingering normalcy of romance enough to die for. Kieran almost looked respectable. He’d somehow managed a collar that didn’t expose his sternum, and a coat unburned and bloodied.              

He’d come bearing flowers, too, white daisy’s he took and tucked into the crown of braids spooled around her head.              

Lauren closed the door to keep the cold from seeping into the house.              

“What are these for?” she asked as he pressed one behind her temple.              

“I felt like it?” he asked as he pulled her into a kiss.              

They didn’t mention the meeting tonight, or the people chasing them, or that they could be arrested, or killed. Tonight, just for a few hours, they were a normal officer, and a normal archivist, on a normal date, and they would enjoy it, their final date, until things might so suddenly, violently, go to hell.              

The sun was sinking as they made their way towards Nightingale Park. It made the city look like it was burning.              

The lights of the circus were coming up, one colorful bulb at a time, inviting the pair into its own world.              

Lauren laced her fingers in Kieran, he startled in response but squeezed back.              

“Have you ever been to the circus?” she asked as she pulled him through the arch.              

“I have not,” he said.              

“Really?” she asked turning to face him with a quizzical look.              

He raised an eyebrow as if to ask when would I have had time for that? “Why would I pay to see something I can do myself?”              

Lauren looked away and considered his answer. “Fair enough.”              

He laughed. “As you might recall I’m fairly talented.”              

She laughed as well. “Oh, I am familiar with your talents, subordinate.”              

“Are you sure?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “You don’t need a refresher?”              

She mussed his bangs as he buried his face in her neck. “Do try to save some of your enthusiasm.”              

“If you insist,” he purred against her neck. “So where do we start?”              

“Have you eaten?” she asked.              

He shook his head. He hadn’t been able to keep anything down, and the smell radiating off the stalls just a bit further down was enticing.              

“Food then,” she said as she snaked out of his arms and dragged him along.              

He followed eagerly.              

“So, what is there normally to eat at a circus?” he asked.              

Lauren hummed as she searched for something that interested her before pulling him in behind her. “Normally, greasy food.”              

“Sounds disgusting.”              

“It’s delicious.”              

“It’s terrible for you.”              

“So are you,” she said as she took the funnel cake in hand and paid the woman. “And yet here we are.”              

She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel how his face fell. She ripped off a piece and shoved it in his face.              

He swallowed it, and cleaned the jam that lingered on her fingers off with his tongue. He savored the blush that rose in her cheeks far more than the food. “You wound me, darling.”              

Lauren leaned in and planted a kiss on the corner of his lip. “Let me make it up to you.”              

“I can think of something,” he said going to snake an arm around her waist, but she danced away.              

“Try to stay on task,” she scolded.              

“Stop being distracting,” he teased. “Was there something, in particular, you wanted to do? We have an hour before the show starts.”              

“We’re actually going?” she asked with surprise.              

“I’ve never been before remember,” he teased, “And the meeting isn’t until afterward. I figure it’ll give us a cover.”              

“Fair enough,” she mused as she scanned the stalls. “There are carnival games.”              

“Do you need to prove your marksmanship outside of work?” he teased.              

She grinned at him. “Perhaps I need to practice.”              

“Aiming at me isn’t sufficient?”              

“We’ll see won’t we,” she said before dragging him off.              

Her marksmanship awards were not for nothing, a couple of dollars later Kieran was in the possession of a small stuffed animal he had no idea what to do with. It would be a violence to part with it and yet it felt odd to hold. It was small enough that he could tuck it into his breast pocket and that seemed to amuse Lauren immensely.              

It seemed revenge was in order, besides, he was incapable of turning down an opportunity to impress her. It was why he’d had such trouble with darts. It was why her friends were now even more suspicious of them, of him. If he’d been able to control himself, if he hadn’t enjoyed such a desperate attempt to be normal they wouldn’t be in nearly the mess they were now. But he pushed that aside. He wasn’t going to think about that. It was a normal date, and he was a normal man. And a normal man got something for his girlfriend. So, darts it was.

Slightly more dollars later Lauren was in possession of a sizeable bear. Its torso matched her own and it’s arms dangled in front of her as she manipulated them.         

“What am I going to do with this?” she asked a bit exasperated.              

“I don’t know,” he said sheepishly at his overindulgence.       

She rolled her eyes and said in a half-serious tone, “Perhaps he’ll watch my stuff.”              

“He?”              

“Kieran.”              

Kieran coughed. “You named the bear Kieran?”              

“Obviously,” Lauren said. “He’s going in my room and I—”              

Kieran laughed and Lauren hit him with the bear.              

“Hey!” he teased. “Don’t abuse me with my child.”              

Lauren glared. “You’re impossible.”              

“And for some reason you like me.”

“There’s still time to reconsider that,” she muttered as she plucked the tickets from his breast pocket and handed them to the usher.  

Kieran was silent as the uniformed man punched the tickets and handed them back to her. When she turned back to him, he was wearing his usual grin.

They found seats in the center of the bleachers. Lauren rested the bear at her feet so she could guard it and keep it from the sod below them. Popcorn mingled in the air with the noxious smell of candied apples and cotton candy.

The lights went down.

They came back up.

And the show started.

If asked Kieran could have recalled none of it except what he saw reflected in Lauren’s eyes. The look of delight, her small gasps of surprise, and how she bit her lip when she was nervous, was far more precious to him than any show of skill put on by dubiously Phantom Scythe affiliated talents.

Eventually, Lauren seemed to notice and gestured to the show. “You’re missing it.”

He shook his head as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “No, I’m not.”

She huffed but leaned against him.

It felt good to be normal.

Once the show was over, they lingered. Not so long as to attract the attention of the children who scoured the stands for trash and loose coins, but long enough that they didn’t have to fight a throng of people to slip away. They slipped between the tents to a spot Kieran had located on his reconnaissance where Lauren could change and keep her things without worry.

Lauren tugged off the dress and neatly folded it, placing the bear on top for safekeeping while Kieran kept guard.

“Hurry, darling,” he whispered.

“Maybe you should wear the dress,” she hissed.

His laugh was barely above a whisper.

When she was done, clad in black even to her hair, she pulled Kieran into a kiss.

He did so gladly even as he kneeled against the tent.

“I don’t like you going alone,” she whispered as she pulled away.

He smiled. “You don’t trust me?”

“No, I,” she muttered, “I worry.”

His lips quirked but he said nothing.

She shook her head. “Go.”

And they did.

Him to his meeting and her to her investigation.

They would meet here if things went well.

They would meet at the cave if things did not.

He watched her leave and once she disappeared from sight, he pulled his sword from where he’d hidden it, attached it to his belt before he untied and tied his hair. He was working after all. He was the Purple Hyacinth.

He wasn’t first. He hadn’t planned to be. He had no desire to appear over eager to attend a meeting he’d only just been granted permission to attend. He almost wished he’d conceded to Lauren and let her attend within earshot, but he was never going to do that. There were things he didn’t need her to hear, and besides her talents were best utilized elsewhere.

Belladonna was already there when he arrived. She let her cigarette fall from her lips and ground it into the beneath her heel. “You’re early.”

“I’m on time,” he said drily. “What kind of an operation are you running if you can’t manage to keep a meeting time.”

Her hand twitched for another cigarette, but she smoothed out her coat. “Apparently not one that meets your standards.”

“I’m surprised it meets yours.”

She gave him a bitter smile. “It has its perks.”

Kieran held her gaze for a moment before he looked away. “Oh, I’ve heard.”

She glared at him.

Ryan Flemmings arrived, and Tim Sake followed joining them in the small tent that barely accommodated the ego in the room.

Tim’s eye’s widened to see Kieran and they slid to Belladonna. “Why is he here? Was one of you not enough?”

Belladonna sucked in her lips to her teeth before she smiled and gestured to Kieran. “He’s supposed to deal with our Lune problem. The messenger sent him. Or was that not something Flemmings mentioned?” Her eyes slid to him and her smile grew just a little.

Flemmings didn’t match her eyes only coughed and avoided the glare boring into his head from Tim. “Where’s the messenger? He’s late.”

Belladonna shrugged. “I’m sure he’s somewhere.”

“Probably dealing with some mess the apostle made,” Kieran said giving Belladonna a slight grin.

She returned it warmly over Tim’s glare.

“Well he best get here soon,” Tim muttered. “I’m not waiting all night.”

“You’re not going to have to wait all night,” a familiar voice said, as the tent flap opened, and a bird masked man stepped in. “I’m here. We can get started.”

Kieran’s eyes widened as he placed the voice and his eyes slid to Belladonna.

She lit another cigarette and grinned as she held it to her lips.

All things considered, Lauren’s infiltration was going well. There were more guards than the last place she’d broken into, but significantly more places to hide. She wondered about the guards. They were dressed like the men she’d expect to hang around the circus, those who set up the tents, minded the animals and such, but they didn’t seem as though they belonged. She assumed they were the Phantom Scythe muscle and had to be minding whatever was being shipped by train that had made the circus the location of the meeting.

She assumed it was by train because that’s where she was stalking about, between the cars, dashing into shadows to avoid the torch light of the men as they passed, and desperately trying not to trip on the rails in the dark. She had a torch of her own but she dare not use it unless she wanted to be a beacon to them.

There was one boxcar in particular that attracted her attention. While the others had been uncoupled from the main engine it alone remained hitched.

Now, why was that she wondered.

As she got closer a guard passed by her and she was forced to move with more expedience and less grace than she might have hoped. She stepped on a wrench as she swung up onto the engine and her whole body shivered with the tension of keeping herself from slipping while he passed. As soon as he was gone, she rolled and caught the wrench, so it didn’t fall and clatter on the metal floor.

Getting into the boxcar presented its own problem.

While it wasn’t far from where she currently sat crouched in the engine room the door leading to it was metal and she was sure would creak enough that it would alert someone. One someone, she might be able to handle. More than one someone was when she began to run into trouble.

Lauren hefted the wrench in her hand and considered it. A distraction was in order. Now, where might she acquire one of those?

Lauren peered over the edge of the engine window and examine what was within throwing distance. She could probably hit one of the other boxcars in the side. Well here goes a bad plan.

She slung the metal across the tracks and winced as it cracked the silence. Quickly she dashed into the boxcar, and immediately regretted it.

She was lucky she hadn’t lit her torch.

Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark and she took in a breath of the sweet rich air.

Nitroglycerin was the least of their problems. There were blasting caps, the kind used for mining, enough to turn parts of the city to rubble, and more guns than she’d ever seen in one place.

She needed to tell Kieran.

He wasn’t safe at his meeting.

And they were both in a great deal of danger.

Kieran considered killing all four of them. It wouldn’t be challenging even with the barely concealed gun in Tim Sake, and Dylan’s pocket. A gun, really Dylan. He knew better than that. They had a limited range of effectiveness and they were within his. The only one who might present a bit of a challenge was Belladonna. Sure, he was faster, stronger, overall, the better assassin, but he wasn’t confident the knife she carried wasn’t poisoned, and he wasn’t about the gamble on those odds.

 And she knew that in the self-satisfied smile she gave him as she attempted to feign rapt attention in what Tim Sake was saying.

This was too smart, too bold, of a plan for Dylan, so he assumed it was hers. That bitch.

Of course, no one but him seemed to notice the difference in the voice of the messenger. Perhaps they just didn’t care, or they were eager to obscure the most devious part of their plan considering the leader, and by extension Kieran, wasn’t meant to be included. It was a revolt after all. Though perhaps he noticed because he’d spent more time than both Sake and Flemmings with the four-fingered messenger, and with Dylan.

If he wasn’t threatening him, he’d be almost proud of Dylan. The gall on him to try something like this.

“It seems Lune has yet to report their findings to the police,” Belladonna said before tilting her head towards Kieran. “But you would know best. You’re the mole after all.”

Kieran shot her a withering look. “Not to my knowledge,” Kieran said. “Though it hasn’t been made clear to me what exactly they might have reported. If I knew I might have an easier time hunting your rat.” His eyes flicked to Belladonna and smiled just a little.

She didn’t return it.

“Is that why the messenger sent you?” Flemmings asked.

Kieran enjoyed how uncomfortable he looked and the paleness of Sake’s face. “That’s what he said.”

He watched them nervously exchange a glance and his smile widened. “Gentlemen, I’m not interested in your apostle’s business I just want to know what I’m looking for.”

“Nitroglycerin,” Tim Sake said finally, and Kieran pretended to be shocked.

His eyes slid to Belladonna and he felt Dylan’s do the same.

She didn’t return his look.

You’re fine with this? What they plan to do with the nitroglycerin.

Don’t look at me like that.

Does he have you so wrapped around his finger you’re signing onto this?

I never said that. I report to the leader.

How is that going for you?

I don’t know, Kieran, maybe ask him yourself since you’re his favorite.

Oh, don’t with me.

They’re going to hurt people.

That is what the Phantom Scythe does, Dylan unless you somehow missed that memo.

You didn’t tell me this.

It wasn’t relevant.

It seems relevant.

Do we need it to fuck over Kieran?

Well no but—

Then shut up and for once in your life follow fucking directions.

“I haven’t seen any mention of that in any reports,” Kieran said finally. “Anything else I ought to know. I’m assuming we’re not meeting at the circus just for the ambiance.”

It was Flemmings’s turn to look uncomfortable, not that he’d stopped since the meeting had started. Kieran imagined being casually threatened by assassins was making him reconsider his commitment to his bottom line. “We’re smuggling something in using the circus.”

“And that would be?” Kieran pressed.

“Is that relevant to what you're doing?” Sake asked a warning in his voice.

Kieran smiled. “No. I suppose not. Well if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I can tell I’m interrupting the meeting you’d like to have so I’ll be going.”

“Before you leave,” Dylan said, and Kieran stopped. He’d almost forgotten he was there. Not completely since he was wearing a gimp bird mask, but he lacked any sort of presence that he could see why he made such an excellent photographer. “With your connections here, your relationship with Officer Sinclair is a liability. That will need to come to an end.”

Kieran’s lips pressed to a thin line. There it was. He knew it was going to be something, but this was devious. Sure both men here were staging a coup, and no one here should be here if they wanted to keep their skins, but they were all still Phantom Scythe, and if he was told publicly, and directly like this not to date Lauren, and he then did, that spit in the face of the leader, and that wasn’t taken kindly to.

Well played Belladonna.

“Lauren Sinclair?” Sake asked. “Why don’t you just kill her? She’s already meddled in Phantom Scythe business.” He shot Belladonna a look.

She returned it with a brilliance that made Kieran aware that was not part of the plan. Seems she can’t account for everything.

“Because she’s worth more alive,” Kieran said his own eyes shining.

“And you’re aware she’s not to be touched,” Dylan said a coldness in his voice that impressed even Belladonna. “But you knew that right, Sake.”

Sake ground his teeth. “I’m aware.”

“Then mind your business,” Dylan said, “And the Purple Hyacinth will mind his.”

Kieran narrowed his eyes at Dylan. Well, that answered that question. She was being protected by someone, and that someone was most likely her uncle. She’d be thrilled with that information. “Oh I’m sure I’ll find some way to break her heart,” he said trying to keep his voice from sounding petulant.

He saw Dylan stiffen in response and he relished it.

“If you don’t have anything else for me, I’ll let the four of you get back to your meeting,” he said, as he glanced at Belladonna.

Are you going to take me now?

Why ever would I do that? You haven’t not followed directions yet.

How kind of you.

Kieran slipped out and could feel his hands shaking. He didn’t walk to the meeting place. He’d meet Lauren at the cave. He was sure she was fine.

Fine was not a word Lauren would use to describe her current situation. Even in the most liberal interpretation of the word fine would be no where near how she would describe this scenario, because now she had to get back out of the metal box she’d trapped herself in.

She shouldn’t have closed the door.

She’d been concerned someone would see it and investigate.

It was a bad choice she’d made.

She seemed to be making lots of those lately.

Self-pity wasn’t going to make the situation any better, so she refused to indulge in it.

What if she opened the door just a little?

She grit her teeth as it screamed at just the few inches she’d opened it. At this point, she might as well just push it open further and crawl through.

So that’s what she did, and took off running as soon as she was out of the metal death trap. She tried to stick to the shadows, but speed sometimes took the place of efficiency.

Eventually, she was spotted, and chased, and she desperately hoped Kieran was having a better time of his meeting, as she dove into a pack of pallets and waited there for what felt like hours. After the coast was clear she collected her dress, her bear, and made her way towards the cave.

By the time Lauren got to the cave, it had started to rain. She was drenched down to the bone. There hadn’t been rain in the forecast, but meteorology like fortune-telling wasn’t an exact science. She’d used her dress to shelter her but it did little to block out the downpour, especially when she only had one free hand.

Kieran was reading when she got there. He seemed annoyed with his book, and she recognized it as a familiar one he turned to. He heard her come in and closed the book before standing. “What happened?” he asked. “You look like a drowned rat. Do you need coffee? I could—”

Lauren had already abandoned her dress, and the bear once she stepped inside, but she still surprised Kieran with how fast she moved, how hard she kissed him as she pushed him back down onto the chair and crawled into his lap.

She was soaking him as she pulled his chest against hers and grabbed fistfuls of his hair.

He rolled her shirt up slowly, warming her sides with his hands as he did, only pulling away from the kiss to tug the shirt off her head and send it flying. He barely registered the sound of the splat as it landed.

She got his shirt open. Fuck the buttons. Fuck the collar. She ran her teeth down his neck, nipping hard enough to bruise, drawing sounds at of him he’d make for no one else.

He added her bra to the pile before raking his nails down her back, hard enough she arched into his touch, before settling on her ass.

She tightened her legs around his waist so he could pick her up and carry her to the bed where he deposited her.

Once she landed, she scrambled to sit up and help him, but he easily pushed her back down, and began to tug her pants off.

He added his own to the pile before crawling over her while she scrambled to make room for him on the bed.

Their lips met and she bruised his, worried it with her teeth. Tiring of the abuse he moved on to her neck marking her like she had him.

“Please, Kieran,” she whined as she wrapped her legs around him as his mouth sunk lower across her body.

He cupped a breast, he teased a nipple, and laughed at her. “You’ll thank me.”

Her frown bordered on a glare as grabbed a fistful of his hair. Her eyes were already dark and heavy, and she already looked wanton as she was.

He wanted to destroy her, utterly, like she did him.

“I want you,” she whined, and damn if she didn’t know what to say to get him to do what she wanted.

But he wasn’t going to humor her.

He ignored her request and instead pushed her knees free from his body before cupping her ass and pulling her closer.

She yelped in response and pulled his hair, but he ignored it. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he liked it. She didn’t focus on that though, because he buried his face between her thighs and began to eat.

It took her a moment to realize the noises filling the air along with the spots behind her eyes were her own.

Damn him she could feel him laughing against her, but it felt amazing.

She held his hair, her chest, the sheets, whatever felt solid, as she tightened her legs around his head.

He didn’t stop her, didn’t protest, as he continued to ravage her with his tongue.

Eventually, she fell apart under him.

Damn him if he didn’t look even more satisfied than her with his lips smeared with her.

She tried to sit up to kiss him but she found her arms shook, and easily he slid over her, touching her, holding her, solid and warm. She didn’t feel nearly as cold now as she licked the slick from his cheek. She wasn’t bad.

“Roll over,” he asked, and she groaned to be asked to do anything but did so. She even lifted her lips for him.

He seemed to appreciate it sliding his hand down over her ass before burying a pair of fingers inside her.

She whined, and her hips sagged. It was something but not enough.

“Keep your hips up, my love,” he purred as he teased her before pulling his fingers out and settled against her.

She did as he asked as was rewarded as he slipped inside her. She moaned burying her face in the sheets before he wrapped a hand around her chin and pulled her face up.

“No, I want to hear you.”

He sounded so hungry, so desperate, she couldn’t help but tease him by grinding her hips back against his. She relished the noise he made.

It seemed this was a contest.

It was one he had the advantage in but she put up a decent fight, grinding back against him with the rhythm, calling out his name in half said breathless moan that left him shaking.

Eventually, she was trembling, and she could feel him doing much the same. She could feel him drawing out of her and she used what was left of the strength in her hips to grind against him.

“No,” she pleaded. “Stay with me to the end.”

“You’re sure?” he asked as his hand settled on her hip to pull her against him. There was surprise in his voice and perhaps delight.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he did as she asked, burying himself in her before he expired. She wasn’t cold anymore.

Slowly reality came back into focus as he drew himself out of her. She rolled over to look at him as he flopped down on the bed.

The ribbon that normally kept his hair neat had been lost somewhere along the way and his hair clung to his face from the sweat. He looked beautifully disheveled, much the same way she was sure she did.

He was eager to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her hair, and his hands skimmed her body and stopped above her stomach. “You’re sure.”

Lauren leaned back and pulled his face so he would look her in the eye. “I asked you didn’t I.”

If she didn’t know better, she might have said he was blushing.

Damn her. He loved her more than anything. She was going to get him killed and he would do so gladly for her.

Lauren mussed his hair and they lay in comfortable silence for a while, but like all silences, it eventually had to be broken.

“They have blasting caps,” she said. “And more guns than I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s…not ideal,” Kieran said with a sigh and he pulled her closer to him.

She settled comfortably against him and squeezed his hand. “How did your meeting go?”

“Not great,” he admitted with a sigh.

“How badly?”

“Well for one I didn’t learn anything new even with all the trouble it took to get in there since they’re a tight-lipped crowd and…” Kieran struggled if he truly wanted to tell her this. He’d promised not to keep secrets from her, but telling her wasn’t going to spare her heartbreak when they did eventually kidnap him regardless of what he did. Belladonna and Dylan had only told him in advance to excuse what he already knew they would try to do.

“And?” she asked tugging him down to look at her.

He sighed. What was the point of lying to her? “I was told I can’t be seen with you.”

Lauren dug her fingers into his chest. “By Belladonna?”

He nodded. “And the messenger. And if we’re seen together that gives her all the excuse, she needs to add fuel to the fire that I’m involved with Lune, and by extension so are you, and then we’re fucked.”

“We’re already fucked,” she said as she covered her face.

“Run away with me.”

Lauren looked up at him. “Kieran we can’t.”

“Why?” he asked as he cupped her cheek.

“Kieran, they’re going to blow something up and we need to figure out what it is before they do?”

“Lauren, we are made. The Phantom Scythe is going to kill us, and come Monday when we go into work I’d surprised if we’re not arrested.”

Lauren rolled away from him and his hand settled on her back.

He sighed. “I’m not suggesting forever. Just for now. Just until things calm down for a bit. We can come back. Finish this. But I…I can’t lose you, Lauren.”

Her hand tightened on the sheets and she buried her face in them. “My whole life is here, Kieran. And we leave it’s as good as admitting guilt to my friends and I’m not ready to lose them.” When had she started to cry?

Kieran gathered her up into his arms and squeezed her to his chest. “I know,” he said. “I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry this has gotten so messed up but we can’t stay.”

“What if something happens?”

That’s not your responsibility, he wanted to say but he didn’t, because Lauren bore the weight of the world and he loved that about her, even if it was extremely frustrating.

“We’ll come back.”

Lauren rolled over, her face tear-stained as he cupped her cheek.

“Alright. For now. I’ll go with you.”

Chapter Text

The sky was still midmorning gray, heavy with rain, when the pair rousted themselves from sleep.

They shared no kisses, or soft touches, before Kieran rolled out of the bed and went to dress himself. Lauren lingered in the warmth of his absence before she rolled over and saw he’d placed the framed photo beside the bed. She sat and picked it up. The rough edges of the frame digging into her hand as she examined their faces.

No justice. No revenge. No answers.

She’d come back. She’d finish this. She promised. But she’d promised to find Dylan and look how well that was turning out.

Her gaze turned to Kieran. He was already mostly dressed, only tugging the white shirt over his head to cover the small number of scars across his back, and burn along his side. The bruise had begun to fade and the small marks made by the glass barely worth mentioning.

He seemed to notice her looking at him and once he had the shirt tucked in he walked over to her and drew her into a kiss.

Perhaps he saw something in her eyes that hadn’t registered to her.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked gesturing to the photo and meaning the clothes she had already given him, already placed in a drawer for her that was soon to be abandoned.

“There are a few things I’d like to get,” she said as he traced her lip with his thumb. “What about you?”

“There are a few things,” he admitted. “You have a passport?”

“I do.”

“Good,” he said dropping his hand.

Lauren gathered his hand up and laced her fingers in his. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” he admitted as he slowly tugged her out of the bed. “I’ll meet you here in an hour?”

Lauren nodded. “Do you think it’ll be fine with my uncle, considering?”

Kieran worried his lip. “That’s…a fair point. If he’s heard about everything, I could imagine he wouldn’t be thrilled to see you leave again considering you didn’t come home last night.”

“I can get my own things.”

“No. No I’ll get them.”

“It’ll look strange you being there without me.”

“I’m hurt you think I can’t sneak into a building unnoticed.”

Lauren worried her lip. “I don’t like waiting. It feels useless.”

Kieran smiled and pulled her into a hug. “It won’t be for long. Well…it might be. Your home is a bit of a walk. But I’d rather you be here where I know where you are then out and about where something could happen.”

Lauren frowned at him but conceded. “Fine. I’ll make a list.”

“I’ll get to go through your stuff,” he said teasingly.

“You didn’t already?”

He grinned but didn’t answer walking away to fix some of the bread and butter he kept in a drawer.

They were really doing this weren’t they. It didn’t feel real.

Kieran started with his apartment. His list wasn’t as exhaustive as hers and he knew he had a bag he could put both of their things in. Besides if someone tried to take him by force he didn’t want her things lost.

He’d put his key in the door and waited for a moment. He cracked the door and listened. Nothing seemed strange, not yet at least. He stepped inside and let the door close behind him, removing his coat and rolling up his sleeves as he did, before he walked towards his couch.

A shadow gave him a moment warning enough he stepped back and avoided the blow Dylan meant for his face. He caught his wrist and slammed his face into the wall possibly breaking the nose he had already broken. He didn’t hold him long thought. Belladonna would be around here somewhere, and she was who concerned him more.

She appeared from beside the side of the couch, her blade bright in the dim light.

He brought his own, up and out of the sheathe he carried it in, before he had to duck under Dylan’s recovered swing. He went to sweep his feet out from under him, but Dylan grabbed him by the hair and jerked him hard enough keeping his balance wasn’t feasible. So he went with the motion, catching himself with his hands and sweeping his leg up catching Belladonna in the wrist, before catching himself back in an upright position.

Dylan gave him little time to recover before swinging on him again.

There was little room to navigate between the couch and the wall and the two of them were crowding him into the corner.

Belladonna’s knife was gone, but not abandoned. He couldn’t see it, but he was sure she knew where it was and that was problematic.

Kieran caught Dylan in the face with his foot hoping to push him back into Belladonna, give him space before they crowded him in the corner. He succeeded in bloodying his lip, but Belladonna danced away.

He drew his sword fully now, while Belladonna recovered her knife from under the couch. He had reach, and power, and a longer blade, and still, she concerned him.

She hovered right outside of his reach before he stepped away from the wall and brought his blade up towards her.

It didn’t connect though, despite her not having the length of the blade to catch his, because Dylan rammed his leg with the couch, and for a moment he lost his steady stance.

But it was enough. Enough for Belladonna to get inside his reach, even if he brought his fist up to strike. She buried her blade in his shoulder, the one he used to hold his sword.

He dropped it, and kicked her.

Her knees buckled and she fell back her head hitting the side of the couch as she went.

Dylan slammed him back into the wall knocking the wind out of him.

His arm was going numb. His vision was hazy.

He brought his fist together and down on Dylan’s back, but he didn’t collapse.

Instead, he popped him in the ribs aggravating the bruise that was already there.

He tried to knee him in the chest, get distance, but he was unsteady on his feet, losing consciousness.

Of course, her blade was poisoned. Surprising no one.

Dylan stepped back and got him in the face.

Kieran hit him back, pushed him back so he fell over the arm of the couch onto the floor where Belladonna had just been.

Where’d she go?

He felt a cord tighten around his throat and his hand shot to it. His fingers clawed as his throat as he slammed his body back against the wall.

He could hear Belladonna cry out in pain and he stepped away from the wall, to either try to throw her or ram her again, but his vision was too hazy, his stance to unsteady, and instead, the world went black, and he felt himself hit the floor.

It’d been an hour, and Lauren was beginning to worry. She couldn’t put her finger on the problem, but something didn’t feel quite right.

She’d already pulled out the items she had given Kieran. The clothes and the picture sat in a neat pile waiting to be scooped into a bag when he returned.

She was tempted to add the bear to the pile. It was stupid. It sat in the corner leaning against the wall at odds with everything in the room, but still, she cherished it.

Lauren pulled the bear into her lap and buried her face in its fur as she squeezed it for comfort. It was the proper size for cuddling, nearly the size of her torso. 

She’d give him another twenty minutes before she went looking for him. That should be enough time.

Kieran woke up when cold water was splashed over him. He started, and shivered, attempting to bring his hands up to block the water when he realized they couldn’t move. He was handcuffed to a chair, each individually.

As his vision came back into focus, he noticed Dylan standing in front of him holding a bucket. His lip was split, his nose appeared broken, and he had a bruise over his eye where the old coloring blended into the new one.

Belladonna sat not that far away on the edge of a table holding a cold compress to her head. He couldn’t see the top of the table but considering he could see the edge of a towel he could guess what was on it.

He felt like ass. Whatever she’d hit him with was strong and unfortunately did nothing to dull the pain.

“Sleep well?” Dylan asked.

Kieran spat between his feet. “How’s the eye?”

Dylan hit him. He caught him in the cheek and Kieran felt it cut on his teeth. He hoped it hurt Dylan’s hand.

He recognized the room. There was old blood on the floor from the last time they’d had this little gathering. The room was still just as small, and barren, all the places to wrap a rope around gone after the last time someone had tried it. The beds were gone though. Somehow that didn’t make the space feel any less claustrophobic.

He spit. It was bloody now.

“How’s the head?” he asked Belladonna.

She gave him a dry look and gestured with the bag. “Hurts, thank you.”

He gave her a wry smile, blood coating his teeth like an animal.

“So, what do you want to start with?” Dylan said demanding his attention again.

Kieran sat back up and sighed. “I don’t care, Dylan.”

Dylan shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. “Alright. We do have all day.”

Twenty minutes came and passed. Lauren had already gotten up, taking her things and tossing them into a bag she’d found when she’d raided his things. She’d taken his book too. He seemed to enjoy it and she wasn’t sure if they’d be coming back to the cave if she found him.

She left the bear propped up on the bed. His beaded eyes regarded her with pity before she kissed his forehead.

“Take good care of the cave, Kieran,” she instructed him with mock seriousness.

He didn’t respond but the sentiment was felt. You’re not coming back. It doesn’t matter.

Lauren snuffed the lights, and locked the door as she left.

She headed towards her own home hoping she’d pass him on the way. Perhaps he’d come across some trouble while he was breaking in that she would need to rescue him from.

She desperately hoped her uncle would be out. It was Saturday so she couldn’t expect him to be at work, and later she and Kieran were expected to appear for dinner, still seeing him sitting at the table made her spirit fall.

He seemed surprised to see her as well before his face fell into a frown. “Lauren did you not come home last night?”

She’d changed since the night before. The dress was in her bag, something she’d leave in her room, or abandon to make space, and she’d put on one of the things she’d left with him, a sensible shirt and pants combo, and an excellent option for running away. The bag hung from her shoulder, the corner of her parent’s picture digging into her side. “He’d spent the night at my place I thought I should spend the night at his.”

Lauren walked past him, hoping for no further conversation, but her uncle caught her wrist.

“Is he still joining us for dinner?” he asked his hand tight on her wrist.

Lauren regarded him warmly with a simmering coolness laced under her skin. “He said he was going to. He needed to grab some things and then he’d be here later.”

Her uncle released his grip.

She took a step.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked. He’d gotten up and stood between her and the door.

Lauren looked over her shoulder and turned to face him. He must have noticed the bag.

She shook her head. “No. I’m just putting this back in my room.”

Her uncle frowned. “Sit with me. We haven’t talked in a while.”

It was difficult to keep an impassive face but somehow, she managed it. Coming to her house first was a mistake. She hoped Kieran was doing alright.

It was hard to keep from passing out but somehow Kieran was managing it. His ears were ringing and there were spots appearing and disappearing in front of his eyes. He couldn’t confirm he had a concussion, but he wouldn’t doubt it considering the violence Dylan had perpetuated on his face. His eye socket felt broken, it was certainly bleeding and felt bruised and swollen enough; he’d pressed his eye closed and wouldn’t reopen it without prompting, and his nose was broken as well. He was surprised he hadn’t broken his jaw, but it was hard to do so without doing damage to one’s hands even if you wrapped them. Dylan had pummeled his body too. His ribs ached, and he was sure something inside was ruptured because why else would he be spitting blood. It wasn’t all just from the cuts to the inside of his mouth, of which there were several, and he was sure there would be more as he held off from screaming.

“Seems like you can only land a hit if I’m drugged or cuffed to a chair,” Kieran said with a weak laugh when Dylan finally stood back panting.

His knuckles were bloody, and his cap had long since been removed.

He went to hit him again and Belladonna caught his arm, her nails digging into the inside of his wrist.

Both men were surprised as they’d almost forgotten she was there.

“You’ve already concussed him once you don’t need to do it again,” she said giving him a wry smile. “Besides, it’s my turn. Go get some water.”

Dylan growled under his breath but did as she asked.

It seemed there were two pitchers remaining. And Kieran was sure there was a rag somewhere should they decide to be creative.

Belladonna had brought a tool from the table, a knife, stiletto really, something he was sure came from her own personal collection.

She traced it across his cheek, and he knew better than to flinch. “You have such pretty eyes,” she said.

“Are you going to take one out?” he asked.

She hummed while she considered it, the blade scratching his eyebrow. “Maybe. Not yet though,” she purred. “I’d prefer you to be able to enjoy all of this.”

Kieran laughed cold and dark and painful.

She traced the blade to his chin and down his neck. She used it to cut the buttons from his shirt neglecting to spare the flesh underneath should she cut too deep. When it was open to his naval, she brought the blade again to his neck and began to work down his arms.

“Something, in particular, you’re looking for?” he asked.

She laughed as she pressed a hand to a bruise over the nitroglycerin burn. Her eyes were bright, and she looked so pleased with herself. “What you mean like this?” she asked.

Kieran muffled the noise he made with his teeth, before she spun the blade in her hand and cut him across the arm. He hissed.

She grinned and did so again. “Oh, did that hurt?”

He didn’t answer so she cut again dragging the blade along his arm to peel flesh.

“Yes,” he snarled.

“I won’t know if you don’t say it.”

He spit and she laughed.

Once she was satisfied with the pound of flesh, she took to marking his chest with her knife. Small cuts, over and over and over again, like the bites of a small animal that burned, but all together hurt. Hurt enough it was hard to stay awake, even if it was just out of spite.

It’d been over an hour Lauren had yet to find a polite way to extract herself. Every time she cited exhaustion her uncle would tell her it was only mid-morning surely she couldn’t be that tired. And then it was lunch and she didn’t eat regularly enough. And hadn’t she said she didn’t see him enough. He’d missed her, and unfortunately, she’d missed him.

But not like this. Not when she wasn’t sure where Kieran was, and she could imagine him impatiently waiting for her at the cave with a snide remark prepared. Or worse not waiting at all.

Eventually, her uncle couldn’t reasonably begrudge her the bathroom and she was able to slip away. It wouldn’t last long though, even though she’d started running the shower. Thank God, the room had a window. Shouldering the bag, she opened the window and hopped to her own. She had to wrap her coat around her hand to break the glass without hurting herself before reaching in, unlatching it, and stepping into her room.

Quickly she gathered her few remaining items. Her passport. The saving she kept on hand. Her important documents. Her gun. She considered grabbing things from her board. The picture of Dylan. The picture of her parent’s car. But she dared not risk it.

When she was satisfied, she slid back out the window, closing it behind her before she scaled the wall to the garden behind the house. From there it was a quick run, a hop over her fence, and she was off to Kieran’s apartment to find him.

A scream was what woke Kieran up. He realized it was his own. His mouth was dry. His whole body ached. He tried to focus on the pain to drive off the desire to sleep but if he did so for too long it only made it worse. He was so tired.

His limbs were shaking, twitching. His ears were ringing. He could smell burning flesh. He realized there were clamps in his shoulders connected to a battery. How novel.

“And you’re sure that won’t kill him?”

“Aren’t you a doctor? Just resuscitate him if it kills him.”

He could almost hear Belladonna smile and Dylan’s lip pull back in annoyance.

It was hard to keep his eyes open, but he was trying.

“Can I have water?” he asked. His voice sounded foreign even to him.

He saw both of their heads turn in his direction and Belladonna cocked her head.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“Unfortunately,” he said with a laugh that came out more as a cough.

Oh, she was coming over. That’s fun.

Belladonna slid into his lap and he winced. Dylan had taken a pipe to his legs at some point and while he was pretty sure they weren’t broken they hurt like hell. Her hand was cold though against his bruised cheek and he leaned into it.

“And why would I give you water?” she asked feigning genuine curiosity.

Kieran’s good eye slid in her direction. “Because you want to drag this out for a long as possible and it won’t be fun for you if thirst is what kills me.”

Belladonna grabbed his hair and jerked his head back. She’d moved so she had all of his attention. He was sure Dylan was just loving that. “Don’t assume you know what I want.”

He snarled at her. “Please. I know you.”

She slapped him, hard, on what was already a bruise and he winced.

Belladonna got up and stalked off to light herself a cigarette.

Kieran hung his head and sighed.

“She steals the blankets when you sleep with her. And no matter what position you start in she’ll try to push you out of the bed.”

He heard the click of Belladonna putting the lighter away, and Dylan shifting his feet.

“She’ll curl around your arm, and complain if you try to move it. She’ll whimper in her sleep if you pull away.”

Kieran looked up at both of them.

Belladonna was trying so hard not to look like she was interested but her eyes sparkled. Dylan’s jaw was clenched.

“She bites too when she kisses.”

“Shut up, Kieran,” Dylan muttered.

Kieran ignored him. “She’s sweet too. Just a little acidic.”

He had Belladonna’s attention.

“Shut up!” Dylan snapped as he grabbed the pitcher of water and stalked over to Kieran. He grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back before pouring the pitcher over his face.

It was hard to breathe. He caught some of it in his mouth. It felt great on the cuts covering his face.

He heard the pitcher hit the wall over the ringing in his ears, before Dylan wrapped his hand around his throat and squeezed.

His eyes were brilliant.

Kieran was almost proud.

“You’re so fucking selfish,” he ground out. “She had a good life before you and you fucked everything up.”

“Oh yeah she had a great life,” Kieran snarled. “Pining after you.”

Dylan tightened his grip and spots appeared in Kieran’s vision.

Before his vision faded out completely the hand released, and he coughed.

Dylan raked his hand through his hair, an unconscious gesture. “Give me the knife.”

Kieran closed his eyes. He tried to relax. She’d be fine. Lauren was a perfectly capable woman, officer, she’d leave without him. He doubted her coworkers would arrest her if he was suspected dead.

When he opened them, Dylan was standing over him holding the knife that seemed less foreign in his hands now. He really had learned something overseas.

Belladonna was holding his arm down.

Even though it was cuffed, even though he knew he couldn’t reasonably escape the knife he still tried to pull his hand away.

“Put your other fingers down or I’ll take all of them,” Dylan said coldly. How oddly nostalgic that sounded.

Slowly, Kieran folded down his fingers until only his ring finger remained.

“Don’t you want to break his hand first?” Belladonna asked.

Dylan looked at her and shook his head. “No. This hurts more.”

Then he pushed the blade down through the second to last joint.

Kieran screamed.

It wasn’t a clean cut and he had to do it again.

Kieran whimpered and tried to pull his hand away.

Belladonna held it down.

When he heard the finger fall to the floor Kieran’s head fell forward and he bit Dylan in the shoulder.

“Fuck,” he hissed and pulled Kieran off by his hair.

Kieran had his blood on his teeth. “Are you enjoying this?” he growled.

“Immensely,” Dylan snapped his eyes having lost none of their shine.  He brought the blade up to Kieran’s neck, pressed it in, cutting his flesh.

“She’ll never forgive you.”

And just like that Dylan’s hand faltered. The light went out of his eyes. The pressure behind the blade ceased and he took a step back. “I…I’m going to go smoke,” he snapped, “You finish it.” He handed the blade to Belladonna and slammed the door as he went.

His key was still in his door when she got there. Lauren pulled her gun from her bag and readied it. She pushed the door open and winced at the creak as she stepped into the room.

There was little evidence of disturbance other than the couch being pushed from its usual place. Cupboards were open. The second bedroom remained locked.

Someone had taken him. Belladonna most likely. To where though?

Quickly Lauren went to his room. She gathered the few items he’d mentioned wanting. Passport. Savings. Clothes. The copy of The Secret Garden.

She walked past the locked room and stopped.

It didn’t take long to get the door open, but she was still surprised. Boxes, of what she could only guess where drawings, a small desk, and a painting on the wall. She examined it, a blush forming, before she pushed his sketchbook and charcoal into her bag. She didn’t grab any pictures. He would have time to make more.

Where would they take him?

The Grim Goblin?

Some other Phantom Scythe base?

There were too many options and he’d been gone too long.

What if he was dead?

This was Kieran he was a bit more challenging to kill than that, surely. Hopefully.

Please be alright.

“When did Dylan start smoking?” Kieran asked.

Belladonna sighed. “Overseas.”

Kieran hummed as if that answered his question. “When did you?”

Her eyes slid to him and she gave him a wry smile. “When you do you think?” she asked before pausing. “I needed you, you know.”

Kieran pursed his lips. “I’m surprised you need anyone.”

She glared at him. “I am trying to be serious.”

“And I’m not?” he snapped. “You left. You chose him. Money and power were so much more important to you.”

“I was trying to protect you!” she snapped, and suddenly she was very quiet. “I just…I couldn’t lose anyone else.”

Kieran was quiet for a long moment before he said, “How am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me?”

“Because you know me, Kieran!” she snapped. “Better than anyone.”

“I’m an assassin, Belladonna, not a mind reader.”

“You’re such an asshole about this,” she snapped, and sighed. “You were supposed to protect us.”

Kieran’s eyes widened and he couldn’t look at her. “I’m…sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” she admitted. “I didn’t.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

Belladonna examined the knife. “I should, shouldn’t I. I want to. Kill you. Kill Dylan. Run off with Lauren.”

“Will you?”

“No,” she admitted putting the knife down before removing the clamps from his shoulders. “She’s afraid of me. I killed her coworker.” Her smile told him that wasn’t something she was especially sorry about. “She won’t trust me, but for some fucking reason she trusts you.” She went and got the key for the cuff. “If you hurt her, I’ll skin you alive.”

Kieran smiled. “I’ll get her out of the city.”

Belladonna uncuffed him.

His hand shot to her throat and squeezed.

She didn’t seem surprised. “Do you want the other one off?”

His hand tightened before he dropped it at his side. “Yes.”

She uncuffed him and stepped back so he could get up.

Everything hurt.

He advanced on her pushing her back up against the wall.

She didn’t seem frightened.

“They’ll kill you.”

Belladonna picked up his hand and brought it to her throat.

“Oh, they can try.” Her eyes shined.

He smiled as he closed his fingers around her throat. “Tell Tim I say hi.”

Belladonna laughed before it turned into a strangled cough and finally silence.

He dropped her to the floor. He didn’t make sure she was breathing. He picked up her knife though. He’d need it and he was sure she had others. He took the pitcher, despite his shoulder’s complaint, and drank greedily from it, before pouring it over him.

His ribbon was gone, lost somewhere along the way. He shredded a bit of his shirt and tied his hair up. His hands shook. His eyes were brilliant.

It was maybe five men. He said maybe because he was sure some skittered off once they heard the yelling. That was the smart choice. The safe choice. The one Dylan had made considering the cigarette buts he found outside when he got there.

The first man had been easy, quick. Slit his throat before he had time to scream.

The next was harder; he hadn’t had time to catch the first. He wasn’t as fast as he would be normally. His grip wasn’t quite as strong. He got him in the eye before he got his gun out. The bone crunched. The blade stuck. Kieran abandoned swearing softly. If she could get it out, she could have it back.

He took his gun. He hated them but he wasn’t useless with one.

He got the third in the shoulder, then the head. His vision wasn’t great, and his hands weren’t steady, but surprise went a long way.

He heard yelling. More coming.

Fuck this.

Everything hurts.

Lauren needs you.

Hurry.

Kieran stepped behind the package of crates to avoid the bullet coming for him. He waited. He recognized the gun. Six shots. Two men. Even over the ringing in his ears, he could count. They were flustered. They wouldn’t space it out so one could reload while the other fired.

Once the bullets stopped, he stepped out. His steps were unsteady. He must look like a man possessed the way he moved, the way their eyes contorted in horror. He grabbed the first, brought him down to the ground, and slammed his head over and over and over again until it came up bloody.

The other mand pointed the gun at his head. It clinked as his hand trembled.

He smiled. He swept his feet out from under him, grabbed the gun, and drove it through his throat. He cut an artery. Blood sprayed over his face.

He almost tripped when he stood.

Where would she be?

It’d been hours.

Please don’t come looking for me.

Just the thought of walking to the cave filled him with overwhelming exhaustion. He leaned against the door frame.

She probably did come looking for him. Lauren was meddlesome that way. So responsible.

Please don’t be at your uncle's. I don’t want to break you out. I’m so tired.

The Grim Goblin wasn’t a great option, but it was where she started. She wasn’t going to break in. It was a Phantom Scythe bar and if he wasn’t there, she would be captured, killed, dead, no use to him.

She didn’t have a plan. She was forming one as she walked, ran really, but it wasn’t a full plan.

She stopped when she saw him.

It was unmistakably Kieran, though he looked like he’d been mauled. He was leaning against a door frame of an abandoned shipping outlet in Grey Chapel on the way to the Grim Goblin from the bridge.

He seemed to recognize her and smiled with relief. There was blood on his teeth.

“Thank God,” he muttered. “I don’t have to walk all the way to the cave.”

Lauren caught him before he collapsed, and slowly lowered him to the ground. “What happened?”

Kieran leaned his head against her shoulder. She was so warm and solid. It felt so nice. Maybe he should take a nap, right here, against her. “Torture,” he mumbled.

He felt her tense. She’d gotten blood on her.

“We need to get you to a doctor.”

Kieran shook his head and immediately regretted that choice. “No. We need to leave.”

“Kieran, you’re injured.”

He looked up and blinked at her. “They’ll kill us. Please.”

Lauren growled. “At least let me bandage you.”

“With what?” he asked.

Lauren set down the bag and pulled out a first aid kit. She set to dressing his wounds.

He recognized the contents. “You got my stuff.”

“You were gone for a while.”

He laughed shakily. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up and let me finish.”

So, he did.

Walking to the station was exhausting. Kieran had needed frequent breaks leaning against the wall to recover some of his strength. Lauren worried about him. He was so pale. She was worried he’d lost too much blood. She just wanted to get to the train as soon as possible. Get away. Get somewhere safe, and then she’d address his injuries. She’d found a coat to cover the worst of them.

She bought their tickets while he sat on the bench. He looked so hungry. She should get him something to eat.

The air smelled sweet. Like food. Like the circus. Like sugar.

It was the tenth anniversary.

Oh no.

The explosion ripped out from one of the trains and Lauren was thrown against a wall. Her ears were ringing. There was fire, and building fragments all around her.

She couldn’t breathe.

Where was Kieran?

Was he alright?

She couldn’t breathe.

And then out of the flames, ten years too late, stepped a man she almost recognized. White hair. A cap. Kneeled down in front of her.

“Hey, Lauren.”

Chapter Text

Pain was what woke Belladonna; a scream familiar enough to only be her own. Her head hung, her breathing was shaky, and she could feel her makeup dripping down her face the way the blood pooled from her finger. It was the only source of pain she could find when she did a brief census of her body. Her wrists hurt, bound as they were by cuffs to the chair, but they barely registered as pain.

Her blood was staining the wood of the chair, varnishing it a dull red. A wooden chair. Not even bolted to the floor. How amateur. He’d taught them better. He knew better.

“The leader’s angry with you,” the messenger said, his back to her as he cleaned her knife. It seemed Kieran hadn’t taken it after all. How considerate of him. “You were instructed to take care of things with Tim Sake and you’ve allowed them to get out of hand.”

The corner of Belladonna's lip curled into a smile as she moved the key from between her fingers to the jam of the lock. This was so much easier without a finger, and the blood. This was criminally easy. They’d learned how to uncuff themselves long before they were ever trying to catch cats.

They didn’t know then, what she and Dylan had done. About the messenger. About almost murdering the leader’s favorite. Or perhaps they did and didn’t care. She was never entirely sure what the leader’s game was. Sometimes he was omnipresent and ruthless, and sometimes so casual in his carelessness she was surprised the organization hadn’t burned to the ground already.

“And now there—”

Once the cuff was free it was a quick fluid motion. Belladonna stood, swung her arm over her head, and arced the chair down and onto his shoulder and head. It cracked and shattered. It seemed to surprise him because he cried out in pain and turned towards her, or tried to. Her momentum carried her forward, she scooped the shattered spoke of the back of the chair from the ground, and slammed him into the table with her hips, pressing him down into the table pinning him as she buried the spoke in his neck. His hand shot to hers, holding it in, holding it in place, trying to wrestle it free, and not allow her to drive it in any deeper. Her free hand roamed the table, searching, she found the knife he’d dropped and drove it into his side between his ribs. He gasped, a choking, wet sound.

“Shhh,” she whispered as he tried to buck her off and she held him down with her weight. “Struggling will only make it worse.”

She let go of the spoke, if he removed it, he would die and he knew that, and instead grabbed him by the hair. “How does it feel?” she asked, “That’s how Emily died, my sister, choking on her own blood after you beat her until I killed her. Do you want to know what it felt like?”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer because she slammed his head into the wall, again, again. Eventually, she released his body as it went limp and pulled the spoke from his neck, and the knife from his side. Blood sprayed coating the wall, coating her.

She cleaned the blood from her fingers. He didn’t even taste that good.

--

Dylan's hands still hadn’t stopped shaking. He tried to chalk it up to exhaustion, a symptom of carrying Lauren across town, but she wasn’t that heavy, and it wasn’t that far. His knuckles were bruised and raw; his shoulders ached. He’d cleaned the blood from his fingers, but he could still feel it there dried and itchy, under his nails. His hands shook and he closed his eyes to focus on Lauren’s breathing, only her breathing.

Her slow inhale and exhale of sleep, chemically encouraged, was peaceful. How often had he stood against her door, leaned against the frame, after a meeting at the mansion to watch her sleep? He’d thought of laying down beside her, tangling his finger in the halo of red sprawled out on her pillow like blood but he hadn’t.

Blood, huh. It’d felt good, so good, to hit him, hurt him, wipe the smug smile off his face. How would it have felt to kill him? Belladonna wouldn’t kill him. As much as she seemed to think she hated Kieran he firmly doubted she had the wherewithal to go through with it. If she had she’d have come outside and killed Dylan to and then taken off with Lauren, like he should have done when he’d been provided the opportunity.

He’d wanted to when he saw her curled up on William’s couch. When he’d open the door searching for his target the sight of her had made him weak in the knees. She was just as perfect as he’d remembered. She was older than, grown into almost an adult, but still just as beautiful, perhaps more so. Will was lying on the floor slumped over files, a test or study guide. It was stuck to his face and Dylan had been sure it would leave the words on his cheek. It’d been nice to stand there with them, and how much had he longed to step inside, wake Lauren, explain to her where he’d went, that he’d never meant to leave her, and take her far away, where she’d be safe, where they’d both be safe. But where would they have gone? Barely eighteen with no money, no skills, an organization of ruthless efficacy, and friends who would kill for such a betrayal hunting them. How would they have survived? He couldn’t have done that to her. It was better she live thinking he was missing, or dead, at least then she’d have some kind of stability. Maybe she’d find him one day and he could dream and hope for that.

He should have killed Mr. Hawkes, though. Everything would have better if he had, Dylan thought as he unconsciously rubbed his missing finger. He would have stayed in the city. Kieran and Belladonna would have stayed together, and she wouldn’t have been hurt, and he would never have gone looking for Lauren. He could have taken her when she graduated. But he didn’t.

When he’d stepped into his office Mr. Hawkes had been working at his desk. He hadn’t looked as surprised as Dylan had thought he would. Maybe he knew someone was coming to kill him. He’d recognized Dylan though from all the times he’d come over tagging along with Lauren to drag Will into whatever scheme they had for the afternoon. Maybe they would build forts in the backyard or read in the library. “So, you’re alive,” he’d said as Dylan had closed the door behind him. He’d reached for something, a gun perhaps, from his desk, and Dylan had reacted on instinct. As much as Kieran might bully him for his lack of skills, he’d still participated in assassin training. He knew how to do all the same things he did. He chose not to. It’d been a quick motion, a sudden strike, and Mr. Hawkes had slumped back into his chair. Bile had risen in Dylan’s throat, as he checked his pulse and breathing. When he knew he was just unconscious air returned to the room, and Dylan fell on the chaise. He wanted to gag on the regret of engaging in such a betrayal of his friends. Surely unconscious was enough to prove he could do it, kill someone, but that wasn’t the brief. This was meant to hurt. It was meant to be personal. But why him? He’d only ever been kind to him. Will had only ever been kind to him. How could he hurt him like that? Would he ever forgive him? Would Lauren? If it’d been Tristan he’d have done so willingly.

He wasn’t surprised Kieran arrived. He was nothing if not responsible. He was always there cleaning up whatever mess Dylan made by his inability to inflict pain. He knew how much trouble he caused him and Belladonna, how many blows they absorbed on his behalf. It was why he was always quick to offer a story, and patch them up when they returned. He knew it was selfish of him. He knew that not killing Mr. Hawkes would cost Kieran and Belladonna greatly. He knew survival meant killing. Kieran knew that. Belladonna knew that. He knew that and still, he couldn’t do it. Because when Lauren found him again, he still wanted to be a person she’d feel was worth saving.

“Is he dead?” Kieran had asked fury radiating off him. As much as he might think he kept his feelings contained he wore them like a coat.

“Kieran I—” he’d started but Kieran had turned away and finished the job.

He’d watched. He’d watched Kieran open his throat and the blood drip down Mr. Hawkes collar.

He knew he should have killed Mr. Hawkes. If he’d known then what he knew now, the shaking, the adrenaline, the high that came from inflicting pain, maybe he could have done it. Was this how Kieran and Belladonna felt afterward?

Kieran had regarded him with such rage, and loathing, and pity, Dylan could still feel it now. He wasn’t going to be able to protect him forever. Still, he wished he’d lied and said Dylan had done his job, but they would have been discovered and punished. He wished they had been merciful, because didn’t they care about him too. He wished he had been able to impress Kieran because even now after everything he still wanted that.

Dylan’s fingers clutched the picture Lauren had of him from her board. It wasn’t even a good picture. There were better ones. The one she’d taken from the fishing trip her and he and Will had gone on when she’d fallen in, nearly drowned, and caught a fish with her dress, was his favorite. He wanted her to remember him like that happy, and carefree, and whole, not like this, whatever this was.

Lauren’s breathing was shaky, and Dylan worried it was another nightmare. He’d been concerned she’d gotten a concussion from the blast, but her pupils had been fine, not blown or uneven. He sat on the edge of her bed and lifted her hand to his lips. Her breathing calmed and she mumbled in her sleep. He would protect her, from anything or anyone who might hurt her, regardless of the cost.

Her eyes opened and he treasured the small gasp of surprise she made. “Dylan,” she whispered, “You’re—"

“Hi,” he said as he leaned his head down so his forehead rested on hers.

Lauren wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, and he treasured how her fingers felt scraping the base of his skull. But she pushed him off, and he’d admit he was a little disappointed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?” she asked.

He had, or tried to, with letters, notes, whatever information he could get, however, he could get it to her from the moment he woke up in the warehouse. When they’d been sent out to do something, he’d try to slip away for a moment to leave it in her yard, and when he was older, even though he was overseas, he’d send mail. It’d gotten bad enough Tristan had warned him to stop, implying consequences for Lauren like bringing her into the fold if he didn’t. He couldn’t do that to her, so he’d stopped, but he’d never ceased trying to help her. He just had to get more creative. It brought him a great deal of joy to see some of the things he’d left had found their way onto her board. It was almost like a project done together to help her find and rescue him.

“I’m here now,” he said, and he watched Lauren look away and try and sit up.

She winced and quickly his hand was on the exposed shoulder of her nightgown pushing her back onto the bed. His hand was firm, and he smirked slightly at the glare she gave him. How he longed to let his hand drift lower where he could touch and feel her. “Just lay down,” he said, “I don’t think you have a concussion but still moving too much isn’t a great idea.”

Lauren allowed herself to be pushed. She had never been a good patient, even when she’d injured her ankle and he’d had to run to get his dad and his truck. “No,” she growled when her head was flat against the pillow. “I have to find Kieran.”

Bile rose in Dylan’s throat as a sudden coldness overtook him. He shivered and asked in a tone calm, even, only barely, “Why would you need to find him?”

Lauren hissed and he realized his fingers were digging into her shoulder. Quickly he released her, and his hand moved to her elbow. She had goosebumps. Her eyes were hard filled with an emotion he didn’t recognize in her. Hurt. Pity. Rage. Sadness. Betrayal. Don’t look at me like that.

“Was it you who hurt him?” she asked.

His breath caught in his throat and he looked away taking his hand with him. It trembled. Her eyes burned, scarring him with their intensity. If she was going to look at him like that, he should have killed him. Maybe then he couldn’t hurt her, him, anymore. “Lauren,” he pleaded, “He was hurting you.”

“Where is he?” she asked. Had she always been this cold?

If he was lucky, he was still at the warehouse, head bowed, neck opened like a smile, and Belladonna was running out and about with a knife, and a list, and rage. But he doubted it. Maybe he’d died, buried in the rubble, but he doubted it. Dylan was never that lucky.

“I don’t know,” he said turning so he could look at her over his shoulder. Had she shrunk back from him? He would never hurt her. He loved her, more than anything. Did he truly look so frightening that he merited such a response but not Kieran? He had killed people. He had ruined lives. He had hurt him. He had hurt her. How could she—she loved him, didn’t she. Dylan wanted to laugh, to choke. She couldn’t, could she? Surely not, not when Dylan was right here. He hadn’t killed anyone; he hadn’t hurt anyone, for her, all for her, even if it had made things easier. “You looked for me,” he lamented.

Lauren’s eyes widened, and slowly coldness, sadness, and hurt buried deep filled the empty space. “Of course, I did,” she whispered. “You were like a brother to me.”

A brother?

Revulsion shook him and he moved his knee between Lauren’s legs, pressed her down against the bed before he’d had time to think about it. Ten years he’d waited. Ten years he’d endured, abuse, degradation, agony, upon agony, fueled by the singular hope that she’d find him, and love him when she found him. He had been the person she would have wanted him to be despite everything, all that it had cost him, but no she loved a selfish, vile, person like Kieran. And all he was to her was a responsibility. Oh, she loved Kieran like everyone did. He should have killed him. Maybe she could have loved him then.

He took her lips. They parted in shock, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue between them. Fine. She didn’t love him; she loved Kieran. He would show her how much better he could be. He would have a kiss even if it killed him. Lauren tried to turn her face away; he caught her chin and held it. She tried to kick him; he’d had worse. She tried to shove him off; he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head while he deepened the kiss. Her teeth were sharp and cruel, but he savored every moment he had with her lips before he eventually had to pull away to breathe. He was panting. His lips were bruised. She looked so beautiful flushed like that. She slapped him hard enough his cheek cut against the inside of his mouth. He touched his slowly swelling cheek. She was more like Kieran than she knew. Perhaps they suited each other.

--

               The messenger had come prepared. He’d had his own knife, so Belladonna was confused why he’d felt the need to use hers. Perhaps it was because hers was superior, the blade was certainly sharper, or maybe it was the symbolism behind the cutting of her finger with her own knife.   Frankly, she didn’t care why. Sentiment was something that interested her. What mattered to her how was quality, and while his was certainly substandard it was a second knife, so she took it. She’d already cleaned her own on his shirt. He wasn’t worth the rust.

               She could have left out a window. Nothing was requiring her to stroll through the back door behind the Grim Goblin two knives in hand, but she wanted to. The horror on the faces of the men sitting calmly at their card tables, drinking, smoking, when she strolled out, blood clinging to her like a coat in the rain, was worth it. She’d relish their faces long after they were dead.

               Her blade was buried in the throat of the man nearest her, still seated, before anyone had time to react. When she ripped it out his blood sprayed filling his cup, mixing with the alcohol, and across his comrade’s face. He tried to stand, maybe pull a gun from his inner pocket, he certainly reached for something, but she kicked the table into him, knocked him back into his chair, before her knife was in his eye and plucking it from its socket.

               Guns were out now, and a bang rang out filling the space. Her head whipped toward the offender. One of the men, four in total, who seemed to have been playing poker, had his gun out. It shook. Smoke leaked from the barrel. She sent the messenger’s knife into his chest, before racing towards his comrades who were less quick on the draw.

               She took the fingers of the one nearest her with a clean swipe, or at least he dropped his gun, before she jabbed her blade into the third’s neck. The fourth tried to fire on her, but this close it was easy for her to grab the second and slam him into the table, slide it across it and send both of them to the floor. She followed with a broken bottle that served well as a knife.

               It was good too that she’d ducked under the table as the shotgun blast from the bartender missed. She heard the click of him trying to reload. His hands were shaking. It was a surprise he wasn’t more prepared. It was a Phantom Scythe bar, after all, you’d think he’d have expected something like this might happen. Before he finished, before the barrel clicked back into place, to fire gain, Belladonna was up over the bar, vaulted, oh he was trembling, kicking him into the wall of bottles.

               They broke. Many crashed before she picked up a glass and stabbed it into his neck. Blood erupted from the bartender like a fountain before he collapsed, no longer supported by her foot on his neck.

               She surveyed the bar. The furthest table’s chairs were pushed out and abandoned. The door hung open. Seemed their comrades were cowards. She should probably chase them, but she wasn’t interested.

               She grabbed a miraculously unbroken bottle of gin and poured it over her finger, it burned, she hissed, before taking a long swig. That burned too but she relished it. When she was satisfied she poured it over the bar, then took several more bottles and poured them on the bar, and the tables, and the bodies, and the floor, slowly drenched in blood she was careful to keep off her shoes.

               On her way out she grabbed an abandoned drink, mostly empty with just a hint of liquor remaining, and made a strip from the curtains. She’d always hated them. They were hideous. She stuffed it into the bottle leaving a small tail. She produced her lighter and held it to the end of the cloth. It took. And when it was almost halfway up the cloth, she threw it into the bar. The bottle shattered. The fire spread. She smiled standing in the doorway. How nice it was to see the bar burn.

               The air outside the bar was just as smokey. There was a fire down the street. People were running. The air was rich with ash, black, and red. There was smoke coming from the direction of the train station.

               Belladonna laughed. “You really did it. You son of a bitch.”

---

               Lauren swung on him again, barely giving Dylan time to recover. She recognized the look in his eyes. She recognized them in Kieran, and she felt phantom hands closing around her throat. He had to be alive, right? He’d promised. But no one was that lucky. He’d been so pale. But he’d survived once. Dylan had survived once. He smelled of sugar, above the smell of cigarettes and dust. He was who’d destroyed the train station. How dare he! How could he knowing how many people he might hurt!

               “Lauren,” he whispered, and she hated how pained he sounded as he easily caught her hands and held her down. Had he always been this strong? He’d changed so much since she’d last seen him. He wasn’t the person she remembered. Kieran was right she didn’t like the answer to her question. She almost wished he truly had been dead so she wouldn’t have to confront the reality of what he’d become.

               Lauren spit and her head ached. Her world spun. Maybe she did have a concussion after all.

               Dylan released her hand to wipe his face and froze as the door opened. All the brilliance in his eyes vanished and he began to shake as she heard the looming figure speak.

               “What are you doing, Dylan?” her uncle asked, coldly, but calmly.

               Dylan’s eyes widened and quickly he scrambled off her, leaving Lauren to collect her breath, while he moved to sit beside her on the bed. “Tristan, I—she’d hit her head. I wanted to make sure she was ok.”          

               “How considerate of you,” Tristan said, as she heard him step into the room.

She realized she couldn’t see him through Dylan’s body. That couldn’t be intentional right? Dylan’s back was to her; she could threaten him easily if she wanted, but he didn’t seem to care. He was solely focused on her uncle his whole body a depressed spring.

“But that’s not what I asked you to do.”

“I—” Dylan started and winced as Tristan got within arm’s reach. “She took priority and I—”

“No,” Tristan snapped, “I didn’t ask you to almost kill the Purple Hyacinth. Now the leader is breathing down my neck.”

Lauren's eyes widened. She’d known, she’d figured, her uncle was Phantom Scythe, an apostle, but to learn it was true was cruel. To learn it like this was worse. She tried to sit up, but Dylan turned; his arm shot out to stop her; he missed the gun pressed in his face.

               She didn’t get a word out in time.

               The bullet ripped through the silence like Dylan’s abdomen spilling his blood over her bed, over her. It was warm. Was that her scream?

               Dylan seemed almost as shocked as her as Tristan leveled the gun at him again. He moved this time though, tackling Tristan, not to the ground but up against the wall.

               Lauren sat up-- when had she been changed? –but her world spun, and it was hard to keep herself steady.

               Dylan screamed. His whole body screamed in pain, and in rage. It hurt. He was dying. He could feel the blood leaking out of the ever-widening hole. But Lauren would be safe. He would protect her. He had wanted to protect her. So how dare Tristan! He had promised. He had promised to keep Lauren out of it if he did his job, did as he asked, and he had done everything, almost everything, he had ever been asked to do. It hadn’t mattered how hard, how painful, the cost, even if it killed him, he had done it, would have done it, for her. Everything for her. She didn’t love him. She didn’t care. Tristian had lied to him. He was dying. He couldn’t protect her. All of it, all the pain, was for nothing.

               He swung, but the punch fell on air.

               Tristan’s connected sending Dylan reeling back into Lauren. Her arms wrapped around him, warm and solid. It was nice to be held. He was so happy he’d gotten to see her. He’d missed her. He’d missed her so much. She’d looked for him. She was worth it.

               “Dylan,” he heard panic in her voice, “Dylan you—” Was she trying to stop the bleeding? How kind of her. She was so kind. She was so worthful. This wasn’t her fault. She had to know this wasn’t her fault. She’d tried. She’d looked for him. She was worth it.

               He reached up to brush the hair out of her face, she was crying, his blood mixing with her hair, barely indistinguishable. He wanted to kiss her again. Once hadn’t been enough. He wanted more. He wished he could have done more for her. Before he could move her uncle pulled her to her feet and out of the room. She fought. She kicked. Dylan went to stand and collapsed. He went to crawl but found he hadn’t the strength. No. He’d protect her. Whatever he had to do he’d protect her.

               Lauren nearly fell in her struggle to free herself from her uncle’s grip as he dragged her into her office and closed the door behind him. She was reeling, unsteady on her feet. He had shot Dylan. Dylan was dying. She needed to get to him, stop the bleeding, call someone, something. His death couldn’t be her fault for a second time.

               She swung on her uncle, but he easily caught her hand and forced her to sit on the desk.

               “Stop it,” he snapped.

               She glowered seeing him for who he really was for the first time. Phantom Scythe. An apostle. A murderer. Not just Dylan. Her parents. How many more murders lay at his feet? “How could you?”

               Hurt reflected in Tristan’s eyes as he looked away. “Lauren I’m trying to protect you.”

               “You knew Dylan was alive! You killed him!” she seethed. “You killed my parents! You tried to kill Kieran!”

               “I was just meant to be your father!” he snapped back, and there was regret reflected there.

               What did the regrets of a murderer matter to her? “Was that it then?! What made you into an apostle!” she screamed unable to control her volume now.  “They kill your brother for you and…why didn’t you just kill me too?”    

               Tristan’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her, but she recoiled. “No,” he said as he slowly moved his hands to his sides. “Yes. I didn’t want you involved in this. You’re my niece, Lauren, but you got involved where you shouldn’t. Why couldn’t you have just minded your own business?”

               Lauren ignored the affection in his tone because it burned. It didn’t matter that he’d raised her. It didn’t matter that he’d been there for her. He had killed her parents. He had kept secrets from her. “Why didn’t you tell me Dylan was alive?!”

               “Because they were supposed to be dead,” Tristan snapped. “They were supposed to kill him. And he was the best option for keeping you safe.”

               “And I was safe looking for him?!” she snarled.

               Tristan was exasperated. “Apparently not since you formed Lune with the Purple Hyacinth.”

               Lauren paled. “How…how do you know that?”

               Tristan sighed. “The police know, Lauren. They have a witness of Kieran at the Golden Clover the night of Anslow’s arrest who vanished before the police arrived, confirmed by his coat he’d left behind. And you weren’t at any of the arrests. And your behavior since you almost arrested the Purple Hyacinth has been brought under suspicion.” He shook his head. “And the Phantom Scythe knows too. Davenport reported she suspected seeing Kieran at a warehouse at the docks when Lune was spotted. And you were reported in the area. And the two of you are dating. And he’s been slow to find Lune.”

               “But that’s…” Lauren started before stopping. “That’s not enough to arrest anyone.”

               “It’s enough for a warrant,” her uncle said. “Enough to bring either of you in for questioning. And things will come out. And he’s dead Lauren. Dylan could be the second member. You could join the Phantom Scythe, stay a police officer, all of this would go away and go back to normal and—”

               “I’m not like you I won’t—” Lauren started through gritted teeth but was caught off by a knock at the door that made her uncle pale.

---

               For many people, this might be the worst night of their lives as the city burned and people rioted, but Belladonna Davenport was having the time of her life. She met no resistance as she made her way to her apartment. Any cops who might have hassled her were busy dealing with the fires, the riots. Any citizens took one look at her and ran. Maybe it was the blood on her face and clothes, or the look in her eyes a bit too wild, or the smile a bit too cruel that might have contributed.            

               Though she put her key in she barely needed to push the door for it to open. She wouldn’t miss that. Her next apartment was going to have a better one. Her next apartment wouldn’t be in Grey Chapel. If she could help it, her next apartment wouldn’t even be in this godforsaken country. Her apartment was devoid of life, like she liked it, so she stalked to her bedroom. She didn’t bother to turn on the lights. The fires outside cast an eerie glow, and she performed better in the dark.

               She already had a bag prepared. It’d been prepared for months, years, if she was being really honest with herself. The contents might have rotated but the staples, her passport, ID, enough money for a small bribe, had always been the same. She tossed in a few of her favorite clothes and products from her closet. They might have been bought with her body, but they were still hers and she still liked them. She was tempted to take her light fixture too. It’d been a gift, expensive, and she’d spent enough time looking at it she was oddly nostalgic for it. No, uninstalling it wouldn’t be worth the effort, and she didn’t have time for that.

               She was kneeling by her safe, half the numbers already entered, when her door ripped open and slammed against the wall. Apparently, she hadn’t locked it, or maybe she had, and her guest just didn’t care. Somehow the latter seemed more plausible as she heard Tim Sake roar from the living room, “Belladonna, you slut, what did you do?!”

               Her lips curled into a smile as she rolled to a stand. Her fingers hovered over her collection of knives on her safe. Should she pick a poisoned one? No that would be too kind. She wanted it slow. She wanted it to hurt. She picked up her knife from earlier, perhaps she was sentimental after all, and walked into her living room.

               “What are you yelling about?” she asked with a sigh.

               He looked manic. The scar on his cheek bright against his skin, more noticeable in the dim light. His eyes were wild. He was holding a gun, how quant, he knew better. She wondered when he saw it. Bright eyes. A cruel smile. A knife that caught the light as she brandished it.

               She enjoyed how his eyes widened, and he swallowed when he saw her knife. She enjoyed how he took a step back when she took a step forward. But what she enjoyed the most was slamming him into the wall, her hand on his throat, the other burying his knife in his hand, while he screamed. He tried to point the gun at her, but she batted it away like the useless toy it was.

               “Oh, did that hurt?” she asked coyly before he swung at her. She stepped back deftly, caught his hand, and wrenched it behind him. She felt it strain in its socket and he whimpered. “Leave this here or you know what happens don’t you?”

               He spat. Her hand whipped across his face before cleaning her own. She laughed. She left him there, uselessly struggling to pull out the knife, while she fixed herself a drink. She used the special sugar; the kind she’d always hoped he’d use accidentally.

               “Truly,” she said as she mixed it in. “You’re such a useless man. You can’t do anything right. You’re not even a halfway decent fuck.”

               “You blew up the train station,” he snarled.

               She laughed as she advanced back into his space. “Oh, please. Why would I do that?” So that little bonfire wasn’t his doing then. Who had? Flemings? No. Who would have the gall to—Oh Dylan. Oh, you magnificent bastard. You did have it in you after all.

               Tim Sake went to say something else, but she was done listening and grabbed him by the cheeks. She pried his mouth open while he tried to bite and spit before pouring the drink in. The sugar worked fast. She dropped the glass, didn’t even bother that it shattered, as she grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back so she could watch it work.

               In seconds blood began to leak from his mouth, his throat, his eyes, his nose. He started to shake. He looked so terrified. She pulled out her blade and let him collapse to the floor. He started to vomit, more blood than food. He clung to her leg, her shoes. He rasped, “Please. Antidote.”

               Belladonna smiled and couched so she could lift his chin. “There is none. It’s lye.”

               His eyes widened. He was crying. Bleeding. Convulsing. Eventually, it stopped. It worked even faster than Golden Viper Venom.

               After a few minutes, she rolled him over. His blood was already spreading seeping into her rug. He was open from lips to sternum. Seems he was as black inside as she’d thought. She laughed and went to her sink to wash her hands.

               On her way back to her bedroom she kicked him, once twice, until she was satisfied, before continuing to her safe. After the last few numbers went in she pulled out her saving. She placed them lovingly in her bag before shouldering it. She kept the knife.

               On the way out she pushed the drinks off the bar, let them break on the floor. She wasn’t getting her deposit back, and they’d been more for his benefit anyway. At the door, she stopped, turned, and pulled the cigarettes from her pocket.  She examined the pack. She examined the body. She pulled a single cigarette out before tossing the pack into the pool that had once been his abdomen. She lit it. She took a long drag before tossing it into the pooling alcohol. It lit, spread, and she laughed as she closed the door.

               How much more could she take?

---

“Hide,” Tristan said quickly but there was nowhere to go. The only option would be under the desk, or in the curtains but Lauren wasn’t a child. She wouldn’t be galled by her uncle least of all now, even as his panic seemed to grow before the door opened.

She recognized the man on the other side, but barely. He’d been at the king’s speech standing beside him. She could only vaguely recall his name. Dakan? Possibly?

But she knew him from Tristan’s reaction. He was pale, stiff, fear pulled his strings as he stepped away from him and towards Lauren. “Sir, I—”

The man’s eyes slid to her, blue, a shape she recognized, with dark hair. She recognized them in Kieran, just like the motion he made of running his hand through his hair. He seemed to coldly examine her too before turning his unflinching gaze on Tristan. “It wasn’t a hard job,” he said in a whisper that could have easily been a roar the way Tristan reacted.

“I—”

“You were supposed to leave Kieran, and Lauren alone,” he said as he closed the door behind him and advanced on the pair.

“But he—”

“But he what?” Dakan snapped, “I let you keep Dylan around because he was useful and somehow you’ve managed to fuck this up.” He stopped and covered his face. His shoulders shook. “You damn near killed my son, Tristan, and you were supposed to leave Lune alone.”

Tristan’s eyes widened as he, for the first time, gathered the full magnitude of what he’d done. It was why Kieran had never been punished, even when he’d made mistakes. It was why he got good missions. It was why the Purple Hyacinth was the Leaders personal—

Lauren saw the gun this time. She tried to scream, to warn her uncle. He’d killed so many people that mattered to her, but she still loved him. He’d still raised her.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t stop the bullet that ripped through Tristan’s chest. Maybe it helped him to know she still cared about him despite everything. Dakan was a much better shot than Tristan, he was dead before he hit the floor, so maybe he hadn’t had time to think about anything at all.

Lauren was shaking, covered, for the second time in blood, that stained the white of her nightgown. She watched as Dakan regarded the body that had once been her uncle, a hole opened to the floor as blood pooled around him, a mixture of pity and regret in his eyes. Maybe they’d been friends once.

The world slowed. Her parents were dead. Dylan was dead. Her uncle was dead. Kieran was dead. She was alone and this man had taken everything from her. Her whole body tensed in rage and she went to fly off the desk at Dakan before he leveled his eyes, and his gun at her.

“Don’t,” he said calmly. “Someone will have heard the shots, and I don’t have much time.”

Lauren’s hands hardened into fists. She was vibrating with rage. “You—”

“Take him,” Dakan said, as he slowly lowered his gun. “Take Kieran. Leave the city. There’s a boat waiting for you in the harbor. Or don’t. And I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you. Your friends. Or you become an apostle. There’s now a vacancy.” His hand swept towards her uncle.

Lauren’s eyes widened. He would let them run? Why? Because he was Kieran’s father? When had that ever mattered? And besides— “No. I won’t. I—Kieran’s dead,” she snarled.

Dakan’s eyes widened and he looked pained.

“He…” Dakan began before they heard a noise from the hallway.

The door opened and the man in question stepped in. He looked a mess, worse than he had when she’d left him at the train station. He leaned against the doorframe, staining it just by touching it, covered in dust, eyes blown by whatever chemical encouragement was keeping him upright, as he absorbed the situation. Quickly, or as quickly as he was able to consider he was limping, staggered to Lauren placing himself between her and the man with the gun. Lauren rushed the catch him. She was so warm. He was so heavy.

“You’re ok,” he croaked.

“Of course, I am,” she said with a laugh wasn’t genuine as she squeezed him and closed her eyes. “What pier?”

“Pier one,” Dakan said as he examined the pair.

Lauren pushed Kieran upright, out the door, supporting him when he couldn’t stand himself, while he shot a question with his eyes she didn’t answer. They passed her door. She wanted to open it. She didn’t.

On the stairs he stumbled, staggered, and fell, rolling all the way down before collecting at a pile at the bottom. Lauren ran after him. “Kieran,” she asked. “Kieran are you ok?!”

He laughed but weakly. “Great.”

She wanted to slap him.

She hovered. The police were coming. They needed to go. She couldn’t get him up.

Lauren left him there, running out the door, leaving it open.

Kieran shuddered. Everything hurt. Adrenaline and coke were only getting him so far. He was so tired. She was ok. Everything was fine. This wasn’t a terrible place to die. From the top of the stairs, he heard the scraping of boots. It was the man from the study. Kieran watched him descend the stairs, step over him, Kieran caught his foot when it was over Kieran’s throat, before collecting himself at the bottom. He pulled Kieran to his feet. He left him in one of the chairs before going out the back.

Who was he?

Lauren returned, pale and frantic. She wasn’t sure how Kieran had gotten up and she wasn’t going to question it. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to pull him from the floor. From the chair, she helped him to his feet, out the door, and into the backseat the car not started with keys.

She settled into the driver’s seat when the police arrived. Two cars boxed her in, before people she recognized, Will, Kym, Lucas, others from her prescient poured out. Guns were out.

Will stalked to the front of the car. His gun was low, but still out. His jaw and shoulders were tight.

Lauren’s hands were on the steering wheel. She looked terrified. She was covered in blood.

“Lauren, get out of the car.”

He could see Kieran in the back, slouched against the window.

Please don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me arrest you. You promised me you’d tell me if something was wrong. Why do you have to make it so hard to help you?

He watched her eyes harden. He knew that look. It was the look she gave to criminals, to murders. Her hands vanished from the steering wheel for a moment.

The car lunched towards him. He barely had time to react let alone move.

He felt more than saw Kym tackle him out of the way as the car went screaming past them out and into the street.

Someone was shouting to shoot the tires.

Guns were fired.

His ears were ringing.

Kym was bleeding. No. No, she hadn’t been hit had she.

Kym held his face. She was shaking too. “Come on. Let’s…”

Catch her. Lauren. A criminal. Siding with a murderer. An assassin. Phantom Scythe. After everything.

Will grit his teeth and pulled Kym up and helped her into one of the cars.

There was traffic, people out of the streets, but Lauren knew these streets well and was able to navigate them easily. They were being pursued. Already the back window had been shattered and Kieran had hissed something that had barely registered to her. Her ears were ringing. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

She pulled the car to a stop in from the gangplank. Almost on it, enough she was afraid it would give. Still, she had enough room to pull Kieran from the car, help him up onto the boat, despite how afraid she was he’d fall into the water and drown.

She was about to push the plank in when the police cars rolled up. She stopped.

Will got out.

She could see the rage from here. He looked a mess. His face was stone, and violence. “Lauren!” he screamed as he ran towards the boat. “Stop! You’re making a mistake!”

Lauren lifted the wood.

He almost made it up onto it, before she dropped it.

He could have jumped and made it to her.

His hand was reaching out.

He looked so angry, so hurt. Kym pulled him back before he fell into the water. She was bleeding from her leg. Had she hit her?

Kym’s eyes were steely as she held Will back. He didn’t fight her.

Lauren shook.

“I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

This chapter is set from Kieran’s perspective and sees him recount their arrival at the inn they’ve made their residence, meeting with Belladonna, and his and his and Lauren’s decision to return.
He recounts that they’re lucky it was only an old woman, the owner as it happens, manning the desk the night they made landfall in a tiny town far north of the city. She doesn’t ask questions despite them having no luggage and looking like death. This is perhaps because they look like a set of young lovers fleeing their parents’ disapproval, which Kieran admits they honestly are. They were able to cover the cost of the room for the night and since then Kieran has been doing odd jobs around the place to cover their rent.

Kieran is worried about Lauren. He recounts waking up on the boat after having almost died. Lauren was panicked in a way he’d never seen before, even when the nitroglycerin fucked him up and he almost died on the beach (side note damn I love injuring Kieran apparently), before almost completely shutting down. She won’t talk, she won’t eat, she wouldn’t leave their cabin and now she won’t leave their room. Kieran knows Tristan is dead because he saw his body, but because Lauren won’t talk, he doesn’t know that Dylan is dead. Also, that the leader is his dad.

Kieran’s especially worried about how depressed and withdrawn Lauren has been because what little food she’s been eating she’s been throwing up. He’s not an idiot. She’s not an idiot. They both know it’s entirely possible for her to be pregnant, but nobody wants to talk about it. Essentially there’s a lot of silent tension in their relationship at the moment which he is ignoring by trying to keep busy.
Which isn’t going well if he’s honest. It was hard to get his bearing again on the boat because it was rocking but being on land it’s better but still not great. He underestimated the damage done to him when Belladonna and Dylan tortured him. He finds his grip strength has been highly impacted by losing his finger and it makes him feel like a bad assassin. It also makes him realize how fucked up what he and Belladonna did to Dylan was and he feels grief and regret. However, he knows it’s far past the ability to fix things.

He can still swing an ax though which is something. When he brings in wood the owner tells him there’s a “friend” here to see him. He instantly pales, surprised and a little terrified to be found so quickly. Before he is able to go upstairs and grab Lauren, he hears Belladonna call out to him. It’s a calculated moment where he has to decide if she or he is faster and he knows she is.
He ends up sitting down with her while she’s eating breakfast (the inn also functions as a roadhouse) and they’re both bound by social convention. She looks very different from the last time we saw her. Her fair is cropped short, almost to her skull, and what hair remains is a sandy blonde. It’s highly implied it’s her natural hair color and she’s letting go of her Lauren obsession and returning to her original self. Her face is gaunter, makeup less, and she looks a little manic, but happier than he’s seen her in a while. She’s dressed in men’s traveling clothes which is a new look for her, but Kieran doesn’t comment on it.

There’s a tense teasing back and forth about how they’d planned to have the torture be their last meeting. Belladonna admits that she’s leaving and wanted to see them both before she did. Kieran’s concern is more evident than he hoped, as well as his concern for Lauren. Belladonna catches it and expresses the hope that he makes her happy. He admits to trying, and that he’ll protect her. Belladonna admits that it’s enough for her and that if he ever fails, she is more than willing to scoop Lauren up.

Kieran points out her missing finger as she drinks her tea, and she laughs and admits that they now all three match and are a set again. Kieran laughs and asks her for a smoke. She expresses concern for his new habit, and he admits the other two do it and now he understands. She tells him she’s stopped, and he read between the lines that Tim Sake is dead. He expresses that he’s happy for her.
Belladonna shows great dexterity which he remarks on. She grins and rolls a knife with her fingers. He calls her a showoff and admits he’s impressed. He also admits she’s the better assassin which pleases her to no end. She gives him tips on how to improve his dexterity and gives him her knife. It’s the same knife that cut off all three of their fingers because he’s lost his after the torture. She admits she won’t need it anymore.

He asks what she’s been doing, and she smiles (the first and only remaining time she’s described as snake-like) and says she has been “rat hunting.” Kieran takes her meaning as killing as many members of the Phantom Scythe as she could find. She admits that this is how she learned that something will probably go down at the party happening in a month in the city, but she’s tired of playing hero as that was always more of him and Dylan’s deal.

Kieran asks if she knows what happened to Dylan and Belladonna says she doesn’t know. He was last seen near the Sinclair mansion and is presumed dead. Kieran is unexpectedly sad about it. Belladonna teases him that she thought he hated Dylan. And Kieran admits he never hated Dylan. He just wished he was more than what he was in a big brother to a little brother kind of way.
Someone comes in to call that the car is leaving, and Belladonna gets up to go. She looks up again at the staircase behind Kieran’s back, perhaps hoping to catch sight of Lauren, before once again imploring him to take care of her. He promises he will.

As she leaves, he says, “Goodbye, Sarah.”

She stops, turns, smiles, and goes “No one calls me that. Though I suppose they shall have to start shouldn’t they.”

It’s heavily implied that the hair and the outfit and makeup and the name were all an identity Belladonna assumed to protect who she was at her core and that she is returning to that person she was without the Phantom Scythes’ influence. And that she is unsure who that person is since she’s been this way from young childhood, but she is willing to try.
Once she’s gone Kieran goes upstairs still concerned about Lauren. He finds her up, dressed, and showered, which is a lot for her. She’s packed the very little “bags” they have. He asks her where she’s going and underlining concern that he’s worried she’s leaving him.

She looks manic, but less depressed which is something. She says that if something may happen at the party, they have to go to prevent it from happening. Kieran knows that William and Kym will be at the event as guards. Kym, he cares about. William can eat shit and die, though if he’s honest he doesn’t put that much thought into it.

Kieran realizes she’s heard his conversation with Belladonna and tries to argue with her and that it isn’t just her anymore. The wording is trying to be deliberately misleading as to whether or not he means the two of them, of the three of them. He is concerned that if they returned that could die. The police are out for them. The Phantom Scythe are out for them. And Lauren has no plan. He’s honestly concerned she’s doing this as a suicidal gesture but is unwilling to let her go alone, despite his reservations, including his concerns about his physical ability.
The chapter ends with them agreeing to return.

Chapter Text

So, I honestly don’t recall why they go back. I have some vague recollection that Will and Kym were in danger from the leader and something, but I honestly don’t remember. When I’d conceived of the fic two years ago, I’d planned on having the flight on the boat be the end. The whole point was that everyone got closure but not the kind they wanted. This felt like a second, tacked on climax I’d added later for spice, and because it felt weird leaving the leader problem out. It felt weird letting the villain win. But I digress.

There were options for how the chapter started. It could start at the cave with the rescue of Kieran 2, the best bear ever. I don’t think that’s how I’d start it. I think the way I left the cave is good and tampering with that would be messing with a good thing. Also, I imagine the police eventually found it.

How I think it starts is at the police station after hours because Lauren needs a gun. Kieran’s got a knife again, he’s an assassin again, and she needs to return to scene of the crime to become her Lauren self. But it’s different. The station’s empty. Her desk is empty. There’s a warrant poster up for her, right along Kieran, as a suspect in her uncle’s murder. And she is in full denial that she is still the person she was, but she’s not.

So, they go to the party.

Think ninjas.

The plan is at it’s most basic: Kieran finds the leader (what he does with him is something she doesn’t ask because she’s committed to this “I’m a good person” thing she’s got going on), Lauren locates the king and tells him what’s up, they meet, they alert the police, they escape. It’s a terrible plan but neither of them are in a great place. Kieran is still very much in camp “I hate this and also Lauren please don’t die; being alone would be awful.” But I digress.

As soon as they separate Lauren runs into trouble in the form of Will. She tries to tell him that there’s something important she must tell the king, and he won’t let her because she ran off with a violent criminal. Will tries to offer her an opportunity to turn back. Like with the boat and the car he’s grasped that she’s doubled down on evil but isn’t ready to admit it. He is by the end of it. They have a physical altercation and as she flees, he shoots at her. He could have killed her, but intentionally misses. She doesn’t. She hits him in the shoulder and leaves him bleeding without even looking back. And Will officially gives up on her.

Kieran has an easy time finding the leader. It’s almost like he wants to be found. There’s some monologuing Kieran with “I’m going to kill you” and him with “Oh by the way I’m your dad.” Which shocks Kieran quite a bit. But it slowly starts to make sense since he did always get special treatment compared to the other two. Part of the leader’s backstory is that he was in love with a maid, his family wasn’t jazzed, hid her/his kid, and that he thinks it was a grand love story. The whole equaling out society was a misguided bid to let the rich and poor be together. Kieran gets angry. He gets angry because this man planned the bombing. This man left his mother to be crushed under a beam and tortured him and the people that mattered to him for years, and claims to care about him. That they’re family. Kieran snaps something along the lines that he has one. Unclear who he means. And just...kills him.

And it’s his last kill. And it’s satisfying but it’s empty too. Because all of this was for nothing. He did set out to do what he wanted to do, but what did he actually accomplish.

Lauren is having a much worse time. She’s still reeling from the fact that Will shot at her, and that she shot him. That she left him. That this isn’t the person she is, but it very much is. It’s the girl in bar who when confronted with the jacket considered killing her friends.

But she doesn’t have time for that. She finds the king. She tries to tell him that Dakan’s the leader, and the conspiracy, but with his face, and that there are two apostles left, she realizes he knew. He says as much. He knew what was happening and he didn’t care. It benefited him even in keeping order through disorder. And she’s so angry. She’s shaking. She’s shaking the way Kieran shakes. The way he does when he kills people. Because the king is just fucker. He’s just another man hurting people, ruining things, hurting her and the people that matter to her, for nothing.

Before she even thinks about it she’s shot him. She tastes his blood in her mouth before she fully realizes what she’s done. It’s in the face too so it’s just a large hole she can see all the way down. And she’s ill, and shaking, and reeling because this isn’t the person she’s supposed to be.

And the queen walks in. And there’s one apostle left. And before she can scream Lauren kills her.

Her son’s behind her. He’s little. Younger than she was when she lost her parents. And Lauren is horrified. He’s clutching at his mom and sobbing, and she doesn’t know what to do.

Kieran runs into Kym as he’s fleeing his crime. She holds him at gunpoint before finally letting him go. She asks him to take care of Lauren and he promises to. Lune isn’t smart. They’ve survived on the goodwill of their friends.

He’s able to find Lauren from the sound of gunshots. The several have mobilized the guards. He finds her with two dead bodies, holding her gun, crying, shaking, begging him to tell her that this isn’t who she is.

They don’t have time for that. He picks her up. She’s mumbling something because it felt good. It felt good to kill them. She liked it and that’s terrifying.

In the end, evil wins. They killed the villains and left a riot and destruction in their wake. What did they accomplish with their revenge?

They flee and that’s the end of the chapter.