I can’t have been sitting here for more than 10 minutes when the front door opens. I noticed the flashing red and blue lights beforehand, some of Billy’s neighbors must have called during the commotion. No officer steps through the door, however, instead Joseph Sheldon and Chiaki Ito enter the apartment.

I’m on my knees cradling Billy’s body, looking up only when Sheldon and Chiaki stop at the end of the mattress, him with those ice blue eyes pinned on me, her looking aghast at the scene. “So, I am too late after all,” Sheldon murmurs, more to himself. “Centurion, what have you done?”

“I didn’t do anything!” I roar. I will not let him put Billy’s death on me. I won’t. I can’t. “He was looking into…”

“Elena,” Sheldon finishes. “I saw. You know that is against our laws to begin with, but to encourage his continued use of Whiteworm…”

“She killed him,” I hiss. “She…she saw him, she felt him, and she killed him.”

“No, you fool,” Sheldon snaps. “The Whiteworm killed him! This is what happens when you overdose. The drug opens the mind, but at great risk. It is the equivalent of Russian roulette, but each time you use it, there’s more rounds in the chambers!”

“I…”

“You put his life on the line to chase a preposterous lead! He is dead because of you!”

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever you may argue, it does not matter. Centurion Riley Averline, I am arresting you for your hand in the death of Sentinel William Burke.”

I can’t afford to get arrested. It’s bad enough being suspended, if I’m locked up then I’ll really have no other way to finish this. I don’t stand a chance against Sheldon and Chiaki though. I may mop the floor with him if it was just weapons or grappling, but the man has an arsenal of spells he can hurl at me to knock me out of commission, and I’ve seen Chiaki fight. She’s brutal.

Sheldon nods to her now and she steps forward. I peer up at her, my arms still wrapped around Billy.

“You have to let go of him now, Riley,” Chiaki says in a far more empathetic tone than I expected.

“I never wanted this…”

“I know,” she says. “But come on, please, come with me.”

She looks pointedly at me, but I’m too much of a mess to pick out any meaning. I just hear Sheldon calling in the incident, citing my name as the contributing factor. Chiaki places her hand on my shoulder, and I begin to wonder if it would really be so bad to just give up and let them lock me away. I carefully lay Billy down, fresh tears spilling over my cheeks as I look at his blood-stained face. Despite the visceral image, he still has that gentle smile on his face, which only hurts me more.

I let Chiaki help me to my feet, and I don’t fight her when she takes whatever weapons I still have on me. She’ll take me to headquarters, where Carver and likely Chief Glass will be waiting to incarcerate me. They’ll hold a council about it, they’ll let me say my piece…but not any time soon. It won’t be a priority, the mission is. So who knows how long I’ll be down there in a cell. Once more it almost feels like a relief to picture it.

When we get back to the street, I see that the police cruisers are gone. There’s a couple more Centurions around the building who must have done damage control to keep things from escalating with the mundanes living here. Chiaki leads me down the street, and I can see a line of dark cars belonging to the Order parked in an orderly fashion. We reach one towards the end and she pauses, looking at me again.

“Run,” she whispers.

“...What?”

“I don’t know if you’re right about Elena,” Chiaki says quickly. “But you’re the only one investigating this angle. Go, find out what’s really going on.”

“But…you’ll be questioned.”

Chiaki frowns and seems to brace herself. “Push me down,” she insists.

“Chi…”

“Do it,” she hisses. “Before Sheldon and the others come over here!”

It seems such a high risk, given that it’s daylight by now. The streets aren’t empty by any means and assaulting Chiaki is going to cause a commotion. To help me along, she slaps me across the face, and it’s just what I need after everything that’s happened to lash out and shove her. Hard. She goes down and I run into the nearby alley and I don’t stop for anything. I have no idea where I’m even going, I just keep running. I have to keep running. I can’t go home, I can’t go to Henry’s, I can’t go anywhere I’d normally go. Suspended to a fugitive in less than 24 hours. Billy’s dead, Elena is still safe in her tower, and now what fragile standing I may have had with the likes of Sheldon and Carver will be severed. I’m fucked, in other words. So, I keep on running.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

I end up back in the market, thinking that even if the Order looks for me here, they’ll have a hard time picking me out of the crowd. I feel feverish…like my heart is inflamed. I feel like I’m going to break apart, and I notice the other beings in the market give me a wide berth when I stagger down main street. I have no idea what to do. I think of returning to the Archives and asking Vasilisa, but it’s visiting her that started this spiral in the first place. My mind leaps to the possibility that the dragon’s involved somehow, perhaps trying to reopen Paradise after failing all those centuries ago. The thought brings up what Billy said: anything is possible.

His bloody face overwhelms my mind again and I feel more tears leaking down my face. I wish I could convince myself he’d just been unconscious, that Sheldon revived him after Chiaki led me from the apartment. Maybe that is the case. Maybe I’ll find out that Billy will be fine after some medical attention.

“Hey, um, what the fuck?” I hear a voice ask.

The voice is familiar, but I can’t place it. I turn unsteadily and see Brianna sitting at a table outside a small cafe. I don’t know why the sight of the awning over the outdoor seating suddenly amuses me. It’s not like rain is going to get through the dense rock above our heads. I may be close to breaking, but I take the momentary distraction as a boon rather than a warning.

“...What?” I ask.

“You look cracked out,” Brianna replies.

“Okay,” I murmur, then start forward again.

“Hey,” her voice follows me, and I hear the legs of her chair scraping against cobblestone as she stands. I don’t stop, but I don’t try to lose her either as she catches up to me. “What happened? Did you figure anything else out? We lost another wolf since we last talked!”

“I dunno,” I mumble.

“You don’t know what? Could you focus?”

I look at her fully and my expression must take her aback. Her eyes widen and the impatience that pinched her features disappears.

“When was the last time you slept?” she asks.

“I dunno.”

“You need me to…call Henry or something? Have him bring you home?”

“Can’t go home,” I sigh, still walking with no clear direction.

“All right, since you’re going to stay cryptic then I guess I should just leave you be,” Brianna huffs.

“Probably.”

She stops, and I keep walking. I don’t care what she does. I don’t care what I do. I just focus on one foot in front of the other.

“Dammit,” I hear her curse, then her hurried footsteps as she moves ahead of me, blocking my way forward. “Something happened, and I’m going to find out what before I lose any more of my pack. So, come with me, dumbass, and you can get some fucking sleep before telling me everything.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

I let Brianna lead me out of the market and to the subway. I’m barely cognizant of where we’re going and trust her to continue jostling me along to our destination. We get out in Allston, and after a 10-minute walk from the station, we come across a pleasant, three-unit apartment that looks like a colonial-style house. Brianna heads up to the third floor, and unlocks the front door before practically shoving me inside.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she grumbles. “Take your shoes off,” she says more clearly.

I’m on autopilot as I do as she asks. She tells me to follow her down the hall, and I do, not bothering to take in her apartment. I’m still thinking of Billy’s. She brings me to a door that opens into a guest bedroom. “Bathroom is across the hall, there,” she says, pointing. “And..uh…you can leave your clothes outside your door and I’ll run them through the wash. I got shit I need to throw in there anyway. You may want to shower too, because...just…damn.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I want to ask if I’m still making a good impression, but I can’t muster up the energy to attempt levity right now. The awkwardness of the situation catches up with Brianna, and she attempts a smile that is more a grimace, then heads off towards the living room we passed. I stand in the hall for a while longer, trying to decide between sleep and a shower. It’s a monumental decision, and I feel overwhelmed by it for a second - knowing it’s not actually the cause of my near breakdown.

I opt for the shower first, peeling my clothes off and rubbing at my ribs. I wore the binder way too long, and I’m aching. The hot water helps though, and I take too long of a shower because it’s nice drowning out the world for a while, but when it starts going tepid, I know it’s time to step back into reality. At least just long enough to reach the bed. My clothes are really in need of a wash by now, so I wrap a towel around my body and slink off to the guest room, glad that Brianna isn’t nearby to see me at all.

I pull the covers back and get into the bed, thinking I won’t be able to sleep after everything that’s happened. Thinking just being in this unknown place will keep me from drifting off. My worries are unfounded, because I’ve barely begun convincing myself I wouldn’t sleep before I pass out.

When I wake up, I see sunlight filtering through the curtains. I sit up with a groan, searching for my phone to check the time when I remember I tossed it in the market to throw off any Centurions. The Techies could track it easily, and I’m not savvy enough to know how to avoid their detection other than ridding myself of the phone entirely.

I do see my clothes folded on top of a dresser, so I’ve been sleeping at least long enough for a wash cycle. I pull them on again and scratch at my hair, which is a curly and tangled mess without any sort of products in it to tame it. Whatever. I leave the room and make my way towards the living room, where I hear the murmur of a television playing. Entering the living room, I see Brianna lounging on the couch, a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her. When she notices me, she sits up with a whistle.

“Damn, about time,” she says.

“How long was I out?”

“Well, it’s noon,” Brianna begins, which was only about three hours since I got here. “Of the next day,” she finishes.

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Fuck…”

“What happened?” she asks.

I try to get my thoughts aligned in my head, but there’s so many I can’t sift through them all. “Can I grab a coffee?” I ask.

“Yeah, just be quick about it.”

“It doesn’t have turmeric in it, does it?”

She pulls a face. “Why would it?”

“Never mind.”

I go to the adjacent kitchen and make a bee-line for the coffee pot. I open the cabinet just above it, glad my hunch is correct and clean mugs are in there. I keep the coffee black and go back to the living room, sitting on the loveseat set near the couch Brianna’s on.

“Spill,” she says.

I open my mouth, then promptly shut it again. Carver talked about how dangerous it was to speak about Paradise, to let more people know about it. But then, Carver also refused to think the problem could be in Cerberus so maybe I shouldn’t take her word as gospel. “The mage is killing werewolves because she needs enough blood to cast a spell that would force the change,” I begin. “This is only the beginning, however. To succeed in her goal to reach the True Source of Magic, she needs way more blood. The sort that will be shed if your entire pack is let loose on Boston.”

“Castillo told me about that part,” Brianna says. “You didn’t think he wouldn’t warn us about that? But you keep saying she. Do you know the bitch behind this?”

“I…think so,” I say after a brief hesitation. “I think one of the Order’s Incantatores is behind this, Elena Silvyn. Do you know about her at all?”

“Nope, but tell me all about her so I can pay her back for every wolf she murdered.”

“It’s not that simple,” I say. “With this sort of mission, it’s not unusual for senior members to stick around headquarters until it’s solved. She won’t leave and there’s no way you can get to her there.”

“Well…what the fuck?” Brianna’s exasperation is something I’m too familiar with by now. “Why isn’t the Order doing something about her then?”

“They don’t believe me.”

“Why do you think she’s the killer?”

“I went to the market yesterday…before you saw me there. I spoke with Vasilisa, the Head Archivist.”

“I hear she’s a dragon,” Brianna interjects. “Is that true? Because I call bullshit.”

“It’s true,” I sigh. “She told me that she tried to open the way to the True Source, to ‘Paradise’, a long, long time ago. She wasn’t strong enough, but her effort set off a fucking super volcano that nearly wiped all of humanity out and killed the rest of her kind. So, if Elena isn’t powerful enough, then something like that will happen again and we’re screwed anyway.”

“Okay, okay…great,” Brianna says, voice seething with sarcasm. “I’m glad this is all adding up to we’re dead either way. What else?”

“When I left the Archives, I got attacked by someone who said I was ‘working for that lunatic locked away like a princess in the tower.’ He called her Saint Hypocrite, and she’s one of the few who’s openly religious among the Order, so I figured it was a dig about her faith considering her…well, murdering a bunch of werewolves to gain ultimate power.”

“Hold up,” Brianna even holds her hand up to halt my story. “Vasilisa didn’t mention anything else? Like, something we could look for to indicate this shit is going down? I thought when it came to really big spells like this, there’s visible signs of it before it’s cast completely. It just seems this is a one-of-a-kind spell that should have some special aspect that can tip us off as to when it’s being used.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “I…didn’t ask.”

“Um…Dumbass.”

“You weren’t there!” I snap. She raises a brow at me, unimpressed with my temper. I avert my gaze, shoulders hunched somewhat. “Sorry. She…she got into my head somehow. She made me relive…really bad memories. With Henry.”

“Oh,” Brianna sounds awkward again, and takes a prolonged sip of her coffee. “So…what else? Why can’t you go home or whatever?”

“They’re blaming me for Billy’s death.”

“Who?”

“A Sentinel from the Order. I asked him to instigate a vision about Elena to prove I was right…” I hate reliving this, but I force myself to. I have to believe there’s something in what Billy conveyed that can help me, but maybe my mind is too numb to pick up on it and Brianna will figure it out. I try to repeat the dialogue as close to how Billy said it as possible, and when I finish with “...that’s it, that was all he got to say,” I feel tears threatening to fall again. I keep them back though, Billy wouldn’t want me to cry in front of a veritable stranger.

Brianna doesn’t look upset about Billy’s demise and I feel inexplicable fury towards her because of it. I know that’s not fair, however, she didn’t know him. And as far as she’s concerned, Sentinels just invade the privacy of everyone else. She doesn’t look upset, but she does look on guard suddenly which piques my interest beneath the malaise of my grief.

“You got the Order after you and you didn’t say so after I offered to take you in?” she barks.

“I don’t have my phone…or my pendant,” I don’t know if the latter part of that sentence will make sense to her, but I left it back at Billy’s.

“Yeah, but you got a bunch of seers that are going to be looking, right?” she demands. “So, you got to get your ass out of my house before they raid it or some shit!”

I glare at her. “You didn’t suspect I was in this sort of trouble when you found me yesterday?”

“Not this much. I figured you were dazed, maybe spell-dazed after a confrontation with a certain mage, or drunk, or high…or something!”

“Fine. Whatever, I’ll go,” I snap, setting my mostly untouched coffee down and getting brusquely to my feet. “Did anything I say tip you off to any helpful leads?”

Brianna is stubbornly quiet for a few seconds before she scoffs and looks away from me. “It could be nothing, could be big. See if you can’t talk to the boss man again.”

“Castillo?”

“You wanna know what he used to call me when I first joined up with his pack?”

“What?”

“Morra. It means kiddo or like, little girl.”

I know this is probably hugely important, but I just give her a quizzical look, seeing that Brianna looks to be in her thirties, and hardly someone I would call ‘little girl’.

“I was seven when he took me in,” she adds.

“But was…did he know Elena?”

“I already told you; he doesn’t talk about personal shit with anybody. If he does? I don’t know about it.”

I think about what Henry said, and his sense that Castillo knew more about all of this than he should. I also recall the feeling that he was holding back during our brief dialogue. I’m lightheaded as my mind zooms through everything that happened yesterday, but Brianna interrupts me by standing up.

“Listen, you really do have to go,” she insists. “I know what happens when the Order targets someone, I don’t want to disappear.”

“Oh. Right,” I reply, though I barely heard her. “I’ll go. Yeah. Thanks for letting me crash here anyway.”

She waves me off impatiently and I head towards the exit. I do pause before leaving, however, to look back at her. “Sorry about your pack. With luck, this will be over soon.”

“Yeah,” she says. There’s another beat of silence then she continues, “hey, be careful, okay?”

“Okay.”

I leave then, because she’s right. Even without my phone and pendant, the Sentinels could be looking. I’ll be considered a rogue, a threat to Cerberus, and thus this will be part of the Sentinels’ job, rather than a breach of the Order’s laws as they focus on me the way Billy focused on Elena. Maybe they won’t really be looking though. I’m hoping they’ll focus on the case, but since they won’t look in their own ranks, they won’t have many leads to follow.

I have to speak with Castillo again. Now that I’m alone, once more walking with no clear path ahead, I think about the conversation Billy relayed. Beyond just thinking about that one, I force myself to consider Vasilisa too, and her tale about two lovers who suffered such a loss. Was I wrong in thinking she was talking about me and Henry? Could she be referring to Elena? The Incantator did not seem a woman who lost anything, she was always so serene and at peace. Was this not about gaining power for power’s sake? Was this about loss?

I pause, ignoring the curse from the pedestrian behind me who must side-step quickly to avoid walking into me.

There’s a thread here I need to follow. Although it still doesn’t answer a few counters to my theory that Elena is guilty. There’s still the fact the likes of Charlemagne did not sense her true power, which a vampire of his age most certainly would even if she did learn how to cloak it from the rest of Cerberus – a feat that would require the sort of power one would expect from a mage trying to open Paradise.

Because getting to Castillo meant going through Henry, I decide to go to the Moliere Coven first. I’m not ready to call Henry after the other night, and frankly I’m not sure if he’d be ready to answer me. On the plus side, I’ll be calling from a payphone or borrowed mobile, so at least he won’t recognize my number and I’ll have a better chance of him answering. Still, I’m just not ready to talk to him right now, and I tell myself that going to the vampire coven will only cement my findings further anyway. The more evidence I have, the better chance I’ll have to clear my name and stop all of this once and for all.