Well, this was a familiar setting, thought Fiearius dully, glancing down at the binds digging into his wrists. This certainly wasn’t the first time people who were less-than-fond of him had handcuffed him to chair in a dark room. This was, however, the first time those people had actually been legitimate law enforcement. While he’d ended up at the mercy of many a criminal bastard over the years, somehow he’d always managed to elude badges and uniforms and red tape. Until Paraven.

Well, this place did boast the strictest, strongest and most extensive police force in the span. It was practically part of the experience to get arrested here. He would have been rather disappointed if he’d missed out on it. Continue reading →

” — fuck, Leta, just, please tell me you are taking care of it — “

“Of course I am.” Her tone was cold and harsh. “And would you be quiet please? This isn’t important right now — “

“Not important?” Finn repeated, clearly fighting the urge to yell, or perhaps kick the nearest park bench. “I’d say it’s a little important. And you know what you need to do, don’t you? You need to tell Fiear — “

“Not a chance,” Leta interrupted, her voice so sharp that Fiearius couldn’t help himself: he glanced in her direction, even though, technically, he was discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation. In the shadow of a building, he slanted against a wall, arms folded, watching tourists pass him by on the boardwalk. Continue reading →

As the Dionysian lifted off the ground, Leta dug noisily through a drawer for bandages and salve, preparing the infirmary for her needy patient. She wondered if it was even worth the effort. After all, Fiearius never came here when she told him to — she was always forced to treat his wounds in the bridge, or in the hallway, or wherever she could catch him for a few minutes before he growled that he hated doctors and stalked off.

But then, amazingly, just as she shut the drawer and looked up, he appeared in the doorway. He looked even worse than she remembered: he was decidedly unsteady on his feet, like he could collapse any moment. Blood caked his whitened skin and bits of glass glinted in his hair as he simply gazed at her with distant eyes.

Continue reading →

There was nothing in Fiearius’ peripheral vision as he stormed into the city. A timid deckhand had informed him Ludo was off-ship, visiting old friends in a bar, so Fiearius headed right to his target, gripping an assault rifle in his hands. Blood pounded in his ears. Leta strode alongside him — she was saying something — but he barely heard her.

” — Alyx was shocked he was still aboard, she thought everyone knew — “

Scenery blurred past his eyes, punctuated only by gasps from passers-by when they saw his rifle, carried as casually as one would carry a shopping bag through the city square. He was well and truly focused. Just like the old days. Only this time, it was personal. Shame burned his skin. How, how had he let this happen? Continue reading →

With a tremendous clunk, the metal lock of the mansion’s backdoor broke apart and thudded to the ground, rolling past Leta’s feet in the darkness. Leta lifted her eyebrows, deeply impressed, as Corra smirked in satisfaction and hastily stuffed the lockpick into her bra.

They were supposed to be stealthy and silent, but Leta simply couldn’t help herself. “Where’d you learn to do that?” she whispered, amazed.

“Practicing on every door in the complex after hours when I was a kid,” Corra replied simply, smiling back at her. “They stopped bothering to lock them eventually.”

“You have to teach me that. Okay, let’s go … “ Continue reading →

“Aiden would have hated this place,” Leta noted aloud wryly, lifting her glass to her lips as she surveyed the bar with interest. A thick layer of grime covered the floor, broken neon lights flickered in the windows, and it smelled damp and smoky — a dive if there ever was one.

Still, she hadn’t protested when Nikkolai had told her to join the rest of the crew for one reason: to celebrate Aiden. It was an odd affair — some, like Rhys, were laughing and telling stories; others, like Amora, were sniffling and wiping away tears. Leta didn’t have the energy for either, so she simply sat quietly beside Corra and drank. Continue reading →

This wasn’t much of a cemetery, Leta thought tiredly to herself. Aiden deserved something more beautiful than this — a lush, sunny garden, maybe — but this was just a small yard, littered with marble gravestones beneath a gray sky.

With a heavy weight in her chest, Leta pushed open the wrought iron gate, listening to it creak noisily. Then she led the silent caravan of the crew toward the already-dug plot of fresh earth, flowers hanging limply in her hand.

It’d been two days since it happened. The hours blurred together, one long nightmare. At one point, a hot plate of food had been pressed into her hands. Later, she overheard  someone say the engine was fixed, fixed at last. Then, sure enough, that familiar warm rumbling beneath her feet started up again. Continue reading →