* * * * *
Fool me once, shame on you - fool me twice, shame on me. A lie believed is self deceived.
If this is true, there is no shame in believing a lie. Rather, shame occurs when hiding from the truth, especially when you hide it from yourself.
* * * * *
* Ember -
The aged cement of the meeting point was nicked, dusty after years supporting cargo containers and heavy machinery. As the convoy entered the cleared space, it was clear there was to be one way in, and one way out. A squad of black pickups, boxy grills chromed for maximum intimidation, escorted the cab and trailer of a larger rig. The half circle of vehicles was completed by the inhabitants resting easy, weaponry evident.
Ian, who had been watching them carefully, noted, “Expand your senses. It’ll be difficult to spot any nasty surprises with them parked like that.”
A single man stood in prominence, hands clasped behind his back, sunglasses on, despite the obscuring cloud cover. His suave suit was ruined by the greased hair, slicked back, and his pronounced front teeth. He reminded Ember of a rat, features pinched and nose prominent.
“Think this guy’s trying to look cultured?” Ember remarked.
Ian grunted.
She parked, and Ian, rising quickly, strode to the front of the car. Ember's eyes never left the Werewolf.
Deciding to take her time, throw the Werewolf off his game, Ember chose her moment with care. When everyone was present, standing ill-at-ease, and Sleazy looked ready to start talking, she made her move. The door swung open and stayed open for a few seconds before a long shapely leg stretched out, the dark colour of her high heeled boot clipping down one after the other. She rose adroitly to her full height, hand draped atop the door before flicking it shut with a casual swipe of her wrist.
Hungry growls rumbled across the intervening space. She ignored them. Instead she let the sway of her hips dictate her gait to Ian’s side.
Without the protective Wards of her car obscuring her otherworldly senses, the taint she associated with Werewolf essence hit her. It pulsed from the creature with each heartbeat. Every living thing gave off a signature, and while some were stronger than others, a representation always lingered. It was this representation Ian had asked her to search for when testing Eris’s ability to hide. Of the non-Mages, only Dani was identifiable.
“Relax,” She purred predatorily, administering a sinfully teasing kiss.
To her astonishment, his heart rate barely altered, his returned efforts were passionless and chaste. Annoyed at the lack of reaction, she turned her smouldering scrutiny upon the gathering. They eyed her as one predator to another, caution and lust in equal measure.
'Smart,' She smirked, stepping aside as the leader of the group approached.
She watched Ian appraise his approach with scorn etched in his features. The Werewolf had a sleazy disposition, yet he was also the only one who seemed able to show something beyond a feral hate. She could scent it on them - a deep seated infusion of hostility.
“It’s nice to finally meet the scum that’s been causing so much trouble.” Even the voice of the Shifter came coated in saliva. He lisped and sprayed spit towards them. “It seems that you and I have some business to settle.”
Claws slid from the tips of her fingers as the fool moved into Ian's personal space, either uncaring, or oblivious, of the peril his life was suddenly in. From the chilled, effervescent tang of iron, Ian had called upon his power. Drifting a half step sideways, turning, and using her hair as cover; Ember tried to gauge the apprehension of the others.
"I assume you're wondering why you're here?" The Shifter continued to ooze. Nobody responded. Ember yawned. The being continued with a sly smile ever-growing on his lips. “It appears that you murdered an elder of my community. Nothing's been done about that. Care to guess why?”
“Too busy fucking yourselves?” Grim guessed.
While the others laughed - herself included - she noticed Ian kept his eyes trained on the Werewolf before him.
“Get on with it.” Ian demanded. “I’m not here to play fetch.”
Sleazy’s smug grin, one that had been growing slowly, remained as he waved his pack-mates down. However, Ember caught the corner of his eye twitching when those growls rose.
“Actually, it’s because of me.” Ian just shrugged, unimpressed. “Most of our organisation wants your head on a plate, while others are unsure of what to make of you. I, on the other hand, see the bigger picture. You're clearly powerful.” He nodded at her - the first time he’d recognised anyone, other than Ian, in the convoy - then to Scraps. “But that isn't what's stopping the idiots in charge from waging war for the sake of their pride. In fact, the only thing that’s saving you, and your little children's club, from meeting a… painful end, is the sway I have in the council.”
Internally, Ember rolled her eyes. Bobby’s knuckles had tightened while Val ‘would’ have said something, if not for her brother stepping on her foot. The others were looking at them.
Slipping her hand around Ian’s bicep, she felt his resolve. Eyes narrowed and features pursed, he didn’t seem to enjoy the scents wafting off the self-preening prick.
“Care to get to the point, Fido?” She asked with a nonchalant inspection of her claws.
“The point, you incipit slut," Sleazy’s disdainful sneer was both pandering and weary - as if the mere act of responding to her was a chore, one they all had best be thankful he was completing. "Is that if you don’t do something, you’re going to have another enemy.” His pinched, rat-like, features took in Bobby and Val. “I’m sure you could do without a hungry pack of wolves trying to tear you limb from limb, or have your community go up in flames around you.”
“If I remember correctly,” Ember said, continuing to examine her nails. “We handled you big-bad-wolves rather easily.”
“I never said they’d be coming for ‘you,’” He said with eyebrows cocked.
Typically, Ember cooed at the dark hunger rising within her young lover. Here and now, as his arm trembled, she dug her fingers hard enough into the sleeve to quell it. ‘What’s making him so tense?’
“You wouldn’t,” Val threatened.
The Were snickered, licking his lips wetly. “You really are a moron, child.” He calmly clasped his hands behind his back, smiling all the while. “Like I said, ‘you’ need me, and so, making me happy has now become your top priority.”
Bobby’s thick eyebrows - until now intensely constrained - furrowed sharply. Val’s lip was curling back to expose the white of her teeth. Ember felt her own doing the same.
The silence grew the man’s smile. “Sorta sucks to be you, doesn’t it?” He remarked, his lackeys chuckled.
“Why warn us," Val asked as her apprehension mounted. "What’s in it for you?”
Mockingly, “What’s in it for me?" He said. Then in a tone reserved for mocking the senile, added, "You really are stupid. Were you dropped as a child, or are you just that inbred?” Again laughter. “No, I’m not warning you.” The Were sneered, roaving the space. “I’m telling you what ‘will’ happen. I’ve been arguing you pose no threat - which you don’t. Even so, I will admit there’s little point in throwing away lives unnecessarily.”
Ian allowed a single bubble of contemptuous laughter. “Rich,” He scorned. “Considering your promise.”
“Reference my ‘sucks to be you,’” Sleazy continued to spray. “Besides,” He added when it became clear Ian wouldn’t. “You did what you had to. You had your reasons. They’re not important.”
“What is important is that, if the roles were reversed, any Were worth their salt would do the same. Yet, your head's on the execution block. Way I hear events went, you came in, protected your own, and went your own way doing as little as necessary to make your point.” Turning his head to get the confirming nod from a subordinate. "Did I miss anything? No? Thought not."
"You are not a threat. That’s been our argument so far,” He gestured at himself and the cadre behind him. “But 'if' that argument fails then it’s open season." Slow measured steps took him a meandering walk before the known leaders of the Night Watch. "What I propose is a trade."
“I fail to see your benefit in all this.” Ian accused.
“Don't stress your feeble minds trying to figure it out." He taunted with a sneer. "Just know that our pack's leadership works on status. If those in charge show the wrong choice, or are proven wrong, they lose status. While they're all baying for your blood, claiming you’re a threat. I’ve been pointing the other direction." Opening his arms with a cunning smile cutting his features. "You show up and prove me right, I move up in the pack and cement myself as a replacement.”
“And what’s the guarantee you won’t use your new status against us?” Bobby ground out.
“Hmm…,” The Shifter took a contemplative stance, finger and thumb twisting his soul-patch. “How about this. If you attempt to go against me, then I can guarantee we will move against you. If you don’t go against me, then I have no ‘incentive’ to go against you.”
Ember chewed over the words silently. ‘Clever mutt.’
It didn’t take a lifetime of factionalism to know the Were had no ‘side.’ One Sponsor meeting had laid bare the various strengths and weaknesses of those involved. She understood the strength, and weakness, of the wolves lay in their independence. They were isolated, they had no allies or terms to support if things moved against them. This led to them being vulnerable to their own internal strife - much like what was undoubtedly being alluded to here. The dependence of the other Factions upon the Were to shift goods was now forcing them to act. Their haste was Fido’s opportunity, and he was doing all that he could to improve his odds of success. The next question, ‘Why the Night Watch?’
“How do we know your legit?" Dani spoke up.
The Were's eyes morphed into a distinctly feral blend as he hissed, “Because you dim witted bitch, everyone has something to gain here." He calmed his tone from its snarling edge, but continued mockingly, "There is no ‘guarantee’ in what I say, there never is. You either take my advice and he shows up at the meeting, alone," He glowered through thick eyebrows towards Ian. "Or you don’t, and risk it. It's your failure to act that might lead to small children paying for your cowardice.”
Ember felt the power drain. The others saw Ian stamp forward, the clearing frosting as a spectral mist clouded in from nowhere.
The Were began to laugh.
“I think our point’s been made.” Walking backwards from the stand-off, "I'll be in touch." Door of his truck yawning, he paused. “Oh…, and don’t be late.”
* * * * *
- Ian -
Remaining as taut as a drawn bow, Ian tracked the Shifters. An oblique three-dimensional view of the surrounding buildings, allotments, and courtyards mapped themselves in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t ‘describe’ the picture, he could ‘feel’ it - its dimensions sharp, yet muted, as if handled through cotton wool. Only the signatures of the Werewolves remained clear until they slipped over the unknown event horizon. Despite no longer feeling their presence, he found it impossible to relax. The muscles of his back, particularly between his shoulder blades, ached from how forcibly he’d been holding himself. Cool slender fingers attempted to interlace with his, but he shirked out of the touch. He disguised his movement - after catching the hurt in Eris’s doe eyes - by banishing the spirits.
As the muggy warmth replaced the terse chill, Ian demanded, “What the fuck was that all about?” His shout froze a few underlings halfway through dismounting. That was the catalyst for everyone to start talking - all of them, all at once..
Ember, offering quietly,“We’re missing something," Finger tapping her lips as she wondered after the Werewolves.
Just as Val, features pinche,. “There’s gotta be a hidden angle.” Closing with her brother, “Let me see the message.”
While Grim mused simultaneously, “Seems the flea-bag’s got it in for you, Where’s Red Riding Hood when you need her?”
“No shit,” Ian snapped. His trembling hand combed his thick hair. It didn’t stop the tremble.
“Hah!” Ember laughed. “That stuck up bitch was always manipulating fools to do her bidding.”
Bobby spluttered. “You mean that shit’s real?”
“Pretty much,” Ember shrugged. “‘Cept for Hansel and Grettle. What self respecting Witch uses Blood Magic?”
“As interesting as that is,” Ian grouched. “Can we get back to the - oh, I dunno - the renewed tag on my head?”
That killed the spiralling word vomit. The pregnant pause dawdling alongside Ian’s meandering strides. He wasn’t aware of where his feet took him. Even with his eyes scorching the grooved concrete, he took none of it in. Instead everything was directed inwardly. Anger, irritation, frustration at the injustice of it all, cramped his fingers. He closed his eyes, tried taking a breath, but instead was presented with the flashback of his sister's casual mutilation.
“So…,” Dani attempted to draw the Romero siblings back into the conversation. “Are the Were normally this…” She groped for the word. “Bold?”
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Mei got to the answer first. “Not hardly,” She yawned. Arms stretched overhead, she shifted her hip and closed the door behind her. “Can we go yet? I’m bored and didn’t agree to doing charity work.”
That earned dirty looks all round. All aside from Ian. He maintained his own council.
“What she said.” Bobby advised. “They like to keep to themselves.”
“So why this?” Dani extrospected.
“And more importantly,” Ember stated emphatically. “Why us?”
Ian was aware of heads swivelling in two directions. It was telling how much of a divide still existed between the established order, and the fresh initiates. It oddly struck Ian like two rivalling architects sizing up an unsuspecting plot. One with the ideas of grandeur, stone gargoyles and sculpted arches. The other, composing wide open interiors made bright by a polished glass facade. Those that hovered around the Night Watch vehicles - trucks, vans, and a couple motorcycles - had, until then, been doing their best to blend with the environment. They eyed one another with caution, yet the hostility and suspicion landed squarely at his, and Bobby’s, feet. The invisible shackles of loyalty dictated it. Didn’t mean Ian wasn’t resentful of it.
“They’re feeling threatened and lashing out.” Val contemplated. To Ian, she didn’t seem convinced. “From what I know about their habits, they’re testing us.”
Ian took that into consideration yet found flaws with the logic. It made sense to a point; they were racial supremacists. What irritated him the most about their particular brand of supremacy, was that it wasn’t based on pseudo-scientific nonsense. They believed themselves better than the rest of the magical community because they’d done everything the others had done, but had done it without the aid of Magic. They based their supremacy on the feats of their forebears, the ferocity they possessed, and the dedication they had to their craft. What that craft fully entailed Ian could only guess. They’d been evasive when questioned, and tight lipped when pressed. That simply meant he had to glean all his deductions on ‘how’ they’d said it, over ‘what’ they’d actually said.
He could tell Ember was thinking hard too. Physically she was present, mentally - like him - she was off in a field, replaying the interaction over and over again. ‘Why us.. Why, me?’ Because he’d put one of their Elders - actually Scraps - in the dirt, while he’d been busy trying to save the daughter of another Elder. Could they challenge him like this? He’d done as much at the meeting with the Sponsors in neutral territory. ‘But,’ He reminded himself. ‘Forrester said I could turn it down. So why do the Were think they can do it differently?’
Superficially, it boiled down to one thing, they considered themselves untouchable. The proof of that belief - again thinking back to the Sponsor meet - lay in the lack of reprisal. Ian contrasted the two groups he’d had the most interaction with. He’d worked alongside the Kin, and he’d fought against the Were at the clearing with force, and here at the docks with words. While they were very different, they were still Factions, and each was failing to deliver on their contracts. If the Kin had knuckled under their austere demands, and were on the lynching line until he’d stepped in, the Were had gone so far as to dictate to the Sponsors ‘we’re not moving your shit so deal with it,’ and received a slap on the wrist. Comparing the two, Ian had all the proof he needed.
‘An unruly child getting away with tantrums, and an indulgent parent refusing to take them to task.’ Ian felt his blood pressure rising again. There they were, with the unwritten permission to do whatever the fuck was their whimsy, while he had to justify being allowed to live. ‘Taken off the register indeed.’
Thinking on it only solidified the whole supremacist mentality. Perhaps their supremacy cultivated an aura of untouchability, though he understood it far more likely the other way around. Others had refused to act, so they’d grown arrogant. What was worse, it gave them this ‘benevolence.’ He had what he had, even the lives of innocent children, because they were allowing it and had no orders to the contrary. That was their generosity - their benevolent act.
“They’re not lashing out,” Ian susurated quietly. “They don’t need to.” The solidity of his quiet words cleared the rippling conversation.
Val put her hands on her hips. “I think I’ve got more experience dealing with the Were than you do.”
“Alright, sure. Let’s pretend you’re right - they’re lashing out. Why? What are they lashing out for?” He remarked with soulless eyes.
“It’s obvious,” Val ripposted. “They’re testing for weak points.”
Ian sighed. He hooked his thumbs into the corners of his pockets. “No. They already know your weaknesses.” A few winced, more puffed up at the ignominy. Ian didn’t care. It was the truth. The fact they didn’t want to accept it was their problem, not his. “Face facts,” He nullified them with neutrality. “You’re at the bottom of the pile. If the other group, the one that bungled at the clearing, were in your place, the Were’d be doing the same to them.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” Bobby counterthrust. “Delridge aren't a united front.” His underlings looked supercilious.
“That just proves my point even more,” Ian kept his rapier edge. “Why do to one but not the other? They don’t need to threaten you. Kicking the shit out of the dog when it's down makes you feel big, but in the long run it’s wasted energy. There’s nothing to gain. And then we consider their timing. By your own admission they’ve never done this before. No, they’re doing the same shit as the Kin tried to pull.”
In almost depressing fashion, the effect of Ian’s words played out as he’d expected them to. Few things unite a group more than common understanding. The same could be said for the feeling of being left out. Frowns were shared between those that had once preened. Others sharply eyed the backs of the hierarchy. People began to spread, searching for space. Before any true accusations could sneak their way out - and he was damn sure Val was about to give her brother both blasts from the shotgun - Bobby took a leap towards understanding.
“You think they’re trying to blackmail us?” Bobby missed.
“Oh!” Dani clued in. “They want to get something over you.”
“Over us.” Ian agreed. “They know the balance of power is changing and they’ve got nothing to play to tip it in their favour. Of the people at the clearing, if they can’t go at Delridge, that leaves us.”
Then his eyes returned to Dani, ‘But then… you were there too.’ The fire at the shelter sharply took on a sinister shadow. Beyond that, nothing had changed in the intervening days. The Night Watch were still the weakest Faction. The Shelter was a large part of their organisation. Ian didn’t know, and didn’t need to know, what service it provided. More than likely it was a money laundering system, one that sifted funds through charitable fronts to fill the coffers. Someone had struck at it, but why?
“One more thing,” Ember rolled her shoulders, the buckles on her lightweight jacket glinting. “They wanted you, Ian, to be here. And, they want you to go alone. What does that tell us?”
“They’re aware he’s a Necromancer,” Eris suggested.
“The words out.” Ember shook her head. “You’re almost right. If everyone knows he’s a Necromancer, what does that give them? It gives them an opportunity to blame something, a death, an accident, on him.”
“What good would that do?” Ian asked.
“They want to use their fear against you,” Dani said. “Not blackmail against you, an excuse for the other Factions to act against the Night Watch.”
"What’s the chance of winning if it came to a fight?” Ian threw out to anyone who cared to answer.
Grim guffawed. “Do you want the long or the short answer?"
Eris frowned, "Long answer?" She asked, head cocked and white bangs falling over one eye.
"By the looks on their faces,” Grim motioned to Bobby and Val, “Not very likely,"
Eris paused for a moment, "And the short?"
"You’re fucked!"
Mei tried to hide her giggle behind her hand.
“What’s so funny?” Val demanded as Bobby began talking hurriedly with his subordinates.
“He’s got a point,” She shrugged. “You’ve been at the bottom of the food chain for as long as I can remember. Everyone knew you were on borrowed time, just nobody could be bothered clearing you out.”
“We’ve survived this long for a reason,” Val hissed, her hazel eyes flaring.
“Barely,” Mei rolled her eyes. The single word held with it all the scorn of a lecture.
Val, head bowed, took steps towards Mei. In retaliation the Banshee’s hair bloomed about her temples as she accumulated her power. The truncating wall of Spiritfire roaring into existence froze the assembly.
“Really? You want to do this ‘now?’” Ian’s glacial apparel promised an escalation of force neither lady would enjoy.
The two inched away from the other. Some in the audience relaxed. Most didn’t. They remained deadlocked in a battle of wills, each considering the other's moves in the fight only paused by circumstance. Ian accepted the cease for what it was. Too much history existed between both the Factions at large, and the people that comprised them.
With the latest near violent act resolved, discussion narrowed into the feasibility of winning a protracted conflict. The low intensity proxy fighting that had ruled the streets wasn’t expensive. Most kept to some unwritten code that the Inquisition enforced. The level of violence seemed to stay consistent, quiet, and localised. Death was death, it was unavoidable and a ‘tit-for-tat’ system was expected. That didn’t extend to vehicular or structural damage. When Ian asked, it was explained by way of, “That’s what everyone wants to win - the resources. Destroy them and you’re destroying the spoils.” Did it make sense? No. But everyone else seemed to get it, so he accepted it and moved forward.
“Regardless of how we spin it, we’re in the dark and we don’t know how serious a threat the other Factions pose.” Ian voiced his assessment. “What info can we get before the meeting?”
“It depends on when that meeting takes place,” Bobby sighed. “Regardless, we can’t do anything while we’re getting strained.”
“What did you expect?” Ember drolled. She’d taken the opportunity to play her fingertips over Ian’s shirt covered chest. “Would you allow a rival to get stronger? Just take it for yourself and dare anyone to challenge you afterwards.”
“The Sponsors will allow that?” Ian broached.
Mei, along with Bobby, made sounds of discontent and disgruntlement. “They don’t give a shit about the ‘who.’” Bobby rumbled darkly. “They only care that it gets done.”
“Sold to the lowest bidder,” Val offered her business savvy. “They don’t want to spend money making us stronger. They want the job done as efficiently as possible. If it’s us that do it, great. If it's someone else for cheaper, even better.”
“Remind me again how you lasted so long?” Grim's rhetoric wasn’t met with smiles. “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” He grinned. “You’re the ones that got yourselves into this mess. What’re you gonna do to get out of it?”
‘That’ was the question. What were ‘they’ going to do? Ian glanced at Val, Val was looking at Bobby and Bobby looked at him. A gap had been bridged. Ian didn’t have the answer, but Bobby - and thus by extension everyone who he commanded - expected him to make one. Oddly, that level of responsibility didn’t scare him. If anything, it was actually…, comforting.
Ian shrugged. “Looks like I’m playing fetch then.”
“Like hell you are!” Val yelled as Eris shot daggers at him. “You didn’t do anything, they attacked and we defended," Her incredulity had Dani shifting nervously, the ripple effects of her actions came back to haunt her. "You don’t have to go throwing yourself to the dogs in some self-sacrifice bullshit.”
“And to hell are you going alone,” Eris said, a thunderstorm on her forehead. Moisture dewed in the corners of her eyes, ”Even if we just hide in the shadows or something, you are not leaving me behind.”
“This isn’t about macho, check out how tough I am, teen bullshit. You told me they work on a strength based hierarchy. Coming in with backup and ‘hiding behind it,’” He said with added air quotes, “Is how they’ll see it.” He switched from Val to Eris, “And while I do want backup, it won’t make a difference." She was scared, and he could understand that. Nine years of waiting, to have him taken away mere days later. In truth, he was afraid. That wouldn’t change the fact that a shelter full of kids depended on him showing up. Changing tact, “Look, Forrester filled me in on everyone while we waited for the shindig to get off the ground. He told me about the Kin, your lot,” Chinning towards Lin Mei, “And the Were. Any time a Were gets challenged in the Sponsor meetings, they meet the challenge head on, right? It doesn’t matter who their Champion is, the Were who feels slighted fights back! And that,” Meeting them eye to eye, “Is what we've got to use against them.”
Ember winked, Eris looked ready to explode and Val was building up something that looked bitchy, unreasonable and full of impassioned argument, but a quiet, “He’s right.” Caught them off guard.
Ian went to stand by Eris, as Val turned on her brother, ready to unload but his raised hand interrupted her. “No matter what way this goes down they look at us as weak. We don’t get shipments in ‘till tonight and even then, I don’t like our odd’s while we're covering so much of our territory. Better to go on the offense now than be on the defence later.”
The conversation revolved like a door, spinning with everyone voicing opinion and thought over what could, should, might and maybe would, happen. Eventually Bobby called an end, much to Ian’s relief.
“Enough,” He cut with his hand. “We’re not getting anywhere arguing like this. And we don’t know who's listening in. We’ve got to get prepared for tonight, we know something's coming and we need everyone alert. Ian, we nee-”
“I can’t do it tonight,” Interrupted Ian with a certainty that brooked no argument.
“The fuck you say?” Val blustered. “Why not?!”
“Care to fill them in?” Ian ‘offered’ the floor to Mei.
Pink hair quickly fell over Chinese features and, for the first time since leaving the apartment, silenced her. Bobby was of a more patient head than his feisty younger sibling, thus content to wait for the unknown variable to find her words. Ember wasn’t so like minded.
“She wants to get her mother out,” She chopped the premonitions in half. Mei’s look would have kept a starving lion at bay. In return, Ember licked her lips suggestively. Mei’s head dropped, though not before blushing furiously. “These three,” Ember directed to Ian, Eris and the Siren in question, “Came to the agreement that she’d help you lot out, if they got her family free first.”
“That has nothing to do with them.” Loose pebbles leapt skittishly under the emotional spasm. A few stones looked to be considering a retreat too. “You have no right to bring that up!” Petulantly punctuated with the stamp of her foot.
“Lie to someone who’ll believe you, Sugar,” Ember waved dismissively. “Take a look at the people who matter here.”
Mei opened her mouth to do something she might otherwise regret, but took a look around at her compatriots… or the ones she’d somehow inherited. They were looking at her funny.
“What are you looking at?!” She demanded, sending the stones after the pebbles.
Ian’s tongue inspected his upper teeth. Limited experience with Ember’s social technique guided him to speak. That, and Ember was giving him the ‘well?’ look he was learning to expect - and dread.
“I’m looking at someone who still has a family,” He answered for everyone. “Everyone here’s lost someone because of the shit show this city is. Do yourself a favour and quit deluding yourself.” Her face said it all. That she wasn’t taking him seriously. “Did you think I wasn’t going to tell my team what’s going on with you?”
Words died in Mei’s throat. Ian just waited, arms folded and reclined almost disinterested. “It was mine to share!” She coughed out.
‘Feeble at best and pitying at worst.’ Turning away from the conflicted girl, “As I said, we’re going jail breaking so I can’t double up with you.” He gave a shrug that said, ‘sorry, not much I can do about that.’
Their eyes met and a silent understanding passed between them. Flaunting dirty laundry wasn’t their creed; but here, it was needed. Pain, regret and loss flavoured Bobby’s eyes into something Ian identified with. The shadow of anger planted by parents who betrayed them, fertilised by a hard life in a cruel world.
Ember hadn’t dumped the ice-water on Mei to watch the girl squirm; she’d done it to give them common cause. Common cause founded the Night Watch, and this was a cause they could unite behind. ‘Not that the Banshee will appreciate that anytime soon,’ Ian smiled sardonically.
“Alright then,” Bobby did the maths in his head. “New plan,” And began administering instructions to place the right person into fire teams, and then into their vans.
Ember pressed her magnificent bust against Ian’s arm, letting the heat of her passion soak through her flimsy shirt. With a tender kiss brushing over his lips, she said, “Don’t do anything stupid.” The genuine care he felt coming off the Demon of lust stuttered his reply. He was left flapping, half words queuing up for their turn on the bouncy castle that was his tongue. Ember grinned devilishly, enjoying his bewilderment. Eventually, she took pity on him, skipped the line, and gave him a tonsil checking French-Kiss.
Squeezing himself between the wheel and the plush seat, Ian sat dumbly for a moment, lips tingling and eyes distant. When Mei cleared her throat impatiently, he felt a blush replace the goofy smile - he’d forgotten to start the engine.
The car purred away from the clearing and with it, Ian felt the tension ease from his shoulders. It had been a feat of willpower not to render the mongrel into pieces with his Will, or allow the hungry ghosts to begin feasting on the corrupted soul he could feel within the beast. Now that they were moving away from the area, a small chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.
Catching the tilted look of curiosity, he smiled at Eris. “First time I’ve had a chance to drive this beauty.” Giving her a sidelong smirk, the exhaust roared as they broke out of the yard and onto the inner-city streets. ‘And it's time to let loose a little too.’ Ian thought, flexing his power around him.