Olivia Duma

Several years ago ...

A deep dreamless sleep. The reward after a day of hard work. I already feel oblivion spreading across the edge of my consciousness. Letting myself drift away into the darkness, I burrow deeper into the blankets, enjoying the warmth as well as the comfort of my soft bed. No need to worry about dissidents or traitors trying to tear the Citadel down. And the Fallen aren't so foolish to throw themselves headlong at the Citadel's defenses.

Safe. Secure. Sitting absolutely pretty. Getting conscripted by the Cathedral was probably the best thing to happen to me. But before I can even complete that thought, an uncomfortable knot forms deep in my heart. My Mother were killed. Executed by the Roses. And here I am delighting in the outcome.

That can't be right can it?

But it is right. If both my parents were still around, I would probably be still on that farm, toiling away, sinking deeper and deeper into poverty with every passing day. I might have accepted that fate as a girl, but not anymore. Facts don't care about your feelings. I'm really better off that my Mother is dead and Father allowed me to be conscripted.

"I'm sorry." I murmur into the darkness, giving an apology that no one would hear. Yes. I really am sorry, sorry that at the end of the day, my love for both of you turned out to be so weak. Its just that, well, how do I put this?

I love myself more than the both of you.

Yes. That sounds about right. I've got to live for myself at the end of the day. Mother tried to save the whole village, and look what it got her. A trip to the hangman's noose. I'm sure wherever she is now, Mother would fully approve of the choices I had made in life. I didn't make the same mistake she did after all.

I should really go visit father. I haven't seen him ever since the day I was conscripted. Now that I am no longer a conscript, I'm able to drop by the village anytime I want. Yes. I'll call father to arrange a visit. Sometime when I'm free. Maybe.

Look, its not easy to find the time when cases keep dropping on to my desk, you know? There's always something that comes up. But I'll make that trip back to the village one of these days. I toss about under the blanket, forcing down that uncomfortable feeling with a near physical effort.

Damn it, I'm never going to get any sleep tonight, aren't I?

And its at this moment my mobile starts mercifully ringing. My hand reaches outward eagerly and snatches the phone up.

"Duma." I say plainly over the line, not bothering that the incoming number is not one I recognize.

"Olivia, something bad has happened -" an unfamiliar voice blurts out in a rush from the handset.

"Who is this please?" I ask, suddenly put on guard by the fact that an unknown caller knows my name.

"Madam, its madam from Loveless here." the voice on the other end takes a deep breath, "Olivia, I need your help."

"Another fight at Loveless?" I sigh, getting up from the bed. Might as well drop by to pay Madam a visit. It beats spending the whole night going round in circles in my head.

"Its Piotr. Piotr's in danger." Madam gasps, desperation dripping from every word.

"Oh right. That's one of your staff." I mutter, "Another fight over him? Has the militia's response team gotten to your club yet?" That man whore seems really popular. What do other women see in beast men anyway? I never really got the appeal, Madam's previous explanation notwithstanding.

"He's been kidnapped."

Shit.

.......

My car speeds through the streets of the entertainment district and I swerve hard, narrowly making a turn that I was just about to miss. There's an annoyed honking coming from somewhere behind me, but I give it no mind. I'm not used to the layout of the entertainment district and keeping track of the maze of streets deep within is pretty tough even with the help of the auto map. Getting to Loveless was comparatively more straightforward that navigating this miniature maze.

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Madam had told me that some Valkyrie had booked Piotr for the night and took him out of Loveless. Hours later, she received a panicked call from her man whore who was now holed up in a love hotel. Apparently another Valkyrie had been plowing through the hotel in full bulwark looking to snatch him away. Man whore's "partner" had gallantly sallied forth in her own bulwark to meet this interloper, but the fight was clearly not going too well, based on Piotr's desperate SOS to Madam. And before a rescue mission could be mounted, the line went dead and that was the last Madam heard of Piotr.

I pull up at the love hotel with a hard stomp of the brakes and disembark from the car. Madam had given me the name of the joint, but I could have made a fair guess at which hotel it was thanks to the big gaping hole smashed squarely in the building's entrance. As to why Madam contacted me directly and not the militia, the answer was surprisingly simple.

Piotr had told Madam that it was Sara Nock that was coming for him.

Yes, that Sara Nock whose case I had closed decided to show up again to cause trouble. I chew my lip in consternation, pacing toward the wrecked reception area. I had recommended a light punishment for Nock, just some time in the brig, and her decision to re-offend so quickly makes me look bad. Madam had not called the militia and I summoned their response team while driving here. Looks like I'm the first to arrive.

I need the militia's help to seal off the crime scene, but other than a pack of onlookers milling outside, no one has actually stepped into the premises other than myself. How cooperative of everyone. I begin casting about the reception area, trying to find a staff member to help with getting the room number Piotr had previously holed himself up in, when I come upon the reason why not a single curious gossip monger had opted to trespass.

Buried in the shattered remnants of the reception's counter is the corpse of a woman in the hotel's uniform, hacked neatly into two. The receptionist herself most probably, her blood already soaking the threadbare carpet. So I can add murder to the list of offences that Nock decided to indulge in while on her rampage. There was no distress call from the hotel, so my money is on Nock in full bulwark just marching up to the receptionist and chopping the woman in half without any warning. Meaning this attack was planned. Premeditated.

Damn it. This is bad, a clear escalation from the previous fight Nock had gotten herself in. I suppress the sour feeling in my gut and turn back to the matter at hand. There's still a chance to salvage this entire situation, but I need to move quickly. Shifting through the wreckage, I notice that the reception's computer still actually runs. A small miracle, given the violence inflicted by Nock, but a welcome one.

I dust off the keyboard and set the monitor upright before searching the hotel's guest list under Piotr's name. By tradition, man whores book rooms under their own names for the sake of ensuring the privacy of their clients. There's no reason to believe that Piotr broke from this practice. And there it is. Penthouse unit. I dart straight into the lift, not bothering to wait for the militia to arrive. If Piotr had really been kidnapped, that meant I was on a time limit. I needed to sniff out Nock's trail before it went cold.

The lift arrives at the penthouse with a small jolt and a ding of its bell. The premier offering that this hotel had, the penthouse was a stand alone unit that took up an entire floor. No other guests to witness you banging someone you would rather not be seen with. Sound proofed walls so whatever happens in penthouse, stays in the penthouse. A setup made for maximum discretion.

As the lift doors open, I find myself in a plain lobby, shaped like a half circle and the scene that greets me is the aftermath of absolute carnage. Streaks of scorch marks had been burned into the carpet and several holes had been punched into the walls everywhere. There are even weapon scars marking the walls. The wooden door leading to the penthouse itself had been busted free of its hinges. The maximum discretion penthouse might have allowed Piotr to do his business undisturbed, but it had also given Nock the opportunity to go nuts in her bulwark.

Quickly entering the penthouse itself, my feet scrunch over shattered glass that had been spread all over the place. The main room of the penthouse was basically a large rectangle, with a bed in its center surrounded by several mirrors mounted at every conceivable angle. There's even a mirror mounted on the ceiling directly above the bed. Almost all the mirrors had been smashed though, explaining the glass shards underfoot. The bed itself had been flipped over, and there are long drag marks cut into the carpet, as if someone had tried to resist being pulled out of the room. In the corner of the room is the incongruous sight of neatly folded clothes laid out on a small bedside table, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding me.

A glint coming from the piles of shattered glass catches my eye, and I begin digging through the wreckage, careful not to cut myself. My search is rewarded with the fragments of a deployment earring. Doesn't tell me anything else than what I already know, but its nice to have confirmation about what had happened to Piotr's partner. The one good thing about this entire disaster is that the penthouse is completely corpse free. Nock might have already killed tonight, but Piotr and his partner are safe for the time being.

Probably. Hopefully.

Inspecting the furrow dug into the carpet from the bed, I find a piece of black cloth, most likely the torn leg from a woman's trousers. I'm guessing that Nock dragged Piotr out of the penthouse without the help of her bulwark. There wouldn't have been such a struggle otherwise. A good sign, meaning Nock has no intention of actually hurting the man whore. Checking the fabric, my fingers dig into what's left of the trouser's pocket and pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. My eyes narrow, trying to make sense of what's written on it.

JAN COUTURE

WDGWN SZXL WHITE

TUX SZM BLK

DELIVERED

And below that is the acknowledgement of payment. A fairly big figure too. Its a receipt. But for what?

And what is Nock planning?