Lachesism
It
Tme rolwk ns qubk rmlgg aelq tme iubgt. Tmnuim gbse btregs jlcmbkltbnkr aubgt. Tme sqlijekt ns heltm rmlgg qejlfe wmlt wlr gnrt
“Ithought you seemed a little antsy before the meeting with Roberts,” Cass muses as we appear outside DAEMON’s New Chicago headquarters.
“Well, I wasn’t exactly excited to meet the guy in the first place.” I scan the scenic garden that contrasts heavily with the rest of the neighborhood. ‘Gentrified’ doesn’t even begin to express how much this corporation saps from their community.
The rest of the city is, ostensibly, a war zone. Most of the fighting between Tempest’s forces and RISE is cordoned to the border, but there are signs of battle here, too.
“It’s weirdly quiet,” I say, glancing down the wide street that separates us from DAEMON’s campus. Vehicles move back and forth like there wasn’t an emergency order given just twenty-four hours ago.
“Because our forces have kept RISE occupied with minimal causalities.”
“It’s obviously a trap, right?” I ask, crossing the street when it’s clear no one’s going to run us down. “This whole thing reeks of a distraction from whatever Darkrend is really doing.”
“Indeed,” Cass breathes out. We walk through gardens and I crane my neck as far as I can. There’s no real sign of damage near the top of the building, but I know I definitely went through a wall.
Her hand comes down on my shoulder, and I pause mid-step.
“Heads up,” she whispers, nodding across the fountains to the front of the building.
I follow her gaze and let out a scoff at the figure huddled against the onyx stonework.
Picking up my pace, I weave around the garish decor and slow before reaching them.
“Dr. Blair Andrews,” I say, a little louder than I probably should—but it’s nice to see what I hope is a friendly face. “You look like shit.”
Their head of frizzy dark hair bounces as they startle, eyes searching the grounds frantically until they land on me. The stiffness in their spine eases a little but doesn’t disappear.
“Arya?” they ask, a little breathless. They take a step forward, dropping their handbag. Then another. “Are you a terrorist?”
I let out a bark of laugher, and Cass nudges me with her elbow. “Yeah, I think so. But the fun kind that all the kids are into these days.”
Blair blinks a few times like that hadn’t been the answer they wanted nor expected. “Did you kill Damien Roberts?”
I shake my head, glancing around at the few people milling in the courtyard. No one seems to be facing us, but DAEMON is supposed to be shut down today anyways in mourning for the loser. “I didn’t, but if he’s been killed in the interim, that’s on him.”
“She never touched him,” Cass says, and I realize now that Blair hadn’t yet seen her and the good doctor jumps like they’d been electrified.
“Who—” but then their tanned skin pales before my eyes. “Oh my god.”
“Bloody Mary,” I gesture at Blair, “this is Blair Andrews, the foremost expert on Remnants in Nye Verden.”
Blair’s eyes are stuck on Cass, and I can’t tell if it’s fear, reverence, or some mixture of both.
“Bloody—” they trail off. “So, it’s true?”
“What’re the rumors?” I ask, taking another step towards them. They don’t seem to notice, but I’d rather not spook them now.
“That you’re working with Darkrend and Bloody Mary,” Blair’s voice comes out sort of monotone like Azazel’s. Their comedically wide eyes are stuck on Cass. “That you killed Roberts and that you’re trying to exterminate the humans in New Chicago.”
“Well,” I huff out in a surprised laugh. “I am working with Bloody Mary. I did not kill Roberts, and we Remnants are simply protecting our own. As for Darkrend—”
“Darkrend killed my entire family, slaughtered my people, and was the one who Inflicted me,” Cass says, Romanian accent very clear now. “I would personally like to crack his skull open, but I will settle for total annihilation of his forces and power.”
Blair’s jaw works wordlessly before snapping shut with a click. “Okay. Alright.”
“Just like that?” I ask, and Blair nods.
“I didn’t exactly believe them, but I—” their eyes find Cass again. “I just didn’t expect any of them to be true.”
“Well,” I say, giving Cass a small smile. “We’re more than partners in this little war.”
Cass rolls her gorgeous eyes before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. Chaste, but God it curls my toes.
“Oh, you’re together together,” Blair says, nodding a lot and looking like they might faint. “Of course you are. You would be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I laugh out, but Blair waves their hand.
“Look, I came here to try and meet with someone because I thought I might have info they needed. The NCPD wasn’t listening to me and I—”
I finally close the gap between us and wrap my hands around their shoulders. “Breathe, Blair. What did you find?”
“Percy’s arm,” they nod quickly. “You know how it was done by a Cogsmith?”
I nod, knowing she’d gone to some older bionics doctor. Blair was one themselves, but it was more like a hobby than something they actually practiced. The list of Blair’s achievements was probably endless.
“She went to one that didn’t use the same type of tracking software. A lot of them use Affliction-based stuff, but hers was the old analog type–so I refitted my software for it. I have no idea why she’d use it, but—”
“That was just how she was. Old school,” I shrug, remembering the file folders. Cass huffs a short breath, and I give her a soft smile. “Also, I like jealously on you. It’s hot.”
Cass’ dour look flickers before she redirects her eyes on Blair.
“So?” I ask, and the doctor nods again, quicker.
“I remember not seeing it at the funeral, but no one seemed to care. It was bothering me, so I finally tracked it down.” Blair points at the building behind them. “It’s here.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out, staring up again at the huge building. “It had felt I was forgetting something. Like I needed to do one final task. Like—”
“Unfinished business,” Cass finishes, her own eyes trained on the building.
“Get to the border, Blair,” I say, squeezing their shoulders tightly. “Get there and ask for Azazel. Tell them that Arya needs you safe and if they get all weird about it, tell them I’ll draw a fake mustache on their mask.”
“You—” Blair’s frown deepens. “You want me to tell Azazel the Red Mage that you’ll draw on their mask?”
“Only if they refuse,” I nod, clapping their shoulders. “Now go. Do you have a specific floor?”
Blair shakes their head, face falling. “I only know it’s here. I was going to… I don’t know. Try to tell authorities?”
I nod, knowing they were only doing what they could. “Omen took it. Which means Omen, Darkrend, and Roberts are all connected. And we need to figure out how.”
Blair nods, frizzy hair bouncing. “I’ll go. I’m glad you’re not the bad type of terrorist.”
They pause before Cass, looking like they might literally kneel. “Take care of her. She’s a good person.”
Cass’ icy exterior melts a little and she nods. “I love her with my entire soul. Where she goes, I go.”
Blair turns to go, but Cass’ hand comes down on their shoulder. “Let me, child.”
Neither of them see the way my eyes roll at her theatrics. Whether she admits it or not, Cass loves the effect her reputation has.
She draws the square with a burning red finger. It opens up to an incredibly busy looking square in Old Chicago. Front and center is Azazel with what I can only describe as a stressed head tilt.
“What on—”
“Take care of Dr. Andrews, see that they are given a private room and office. Introduce them to Morgana and Bast.”
Azazel huffs out, but nods dutifully.
“Go,” Cass says, a little sweeter this time.
The portal closes quickly behind Blair leaving us alone again.
“We’re going to find ourselves in a fight, aren’t we?” I ask as we climb the stairs of the building.
“Undoubtedly,” she says with a small laugh. “Probably a super dramatic and dangerous one, too, if our luck continues.”
“Oh, great,” I chuckle, throwing my shoulder into the locked door, popping it directly off its hinges. “I love that for us.”
The interior is dark and deserted. Which is great, but it literally looks like the place is powered down. Like they pulled the plug and said “alright, see everyone later.”
“Does the elevator work?” I ask, and Cass crosses the plaza. She jabs the button with no response. “Great.”
“We can just fly?” she says, and I glance back at her.
“You mean like—”
“Yes, you ride on my back, and we fly through the hole you allegedly made. Or make our own, I guess.”
I blink at her for a second before nodding rapidly. “I really, really wanted to ride your sanguine form, but felt like it would be rude to ask.”
I figure it isn’t the time to address my other thoughts about her sanguine form.
She scoffs, turns on her heel and exits through the door we’d knocked in. I catch up with as she begins to shift, the transformation startlingly quick.
Her entire body elongates and changes. It’s so different from Gareth’s. Where hers looks magical, his looked painful.
“Climb on,” the wolf-bat rumbles, and I feel blood rush much lower than it should.
I nod quickly, hoping she doesn’t see the way my face has flushed. A plethora of inappropriate questions pepper my mind, but I bite my tongue.
She uses her large, clawed paw to lift me gently onto her neck and I settle across the large wolf head.
“This is—” I begin, but large, muscular thighs coil and rocket us into the air. “Fuck!”
My shriek is lost in the wind, her wings snapping out around us with a loud crack. Within moments, we’re circling the building, hundreds of feet above the ground.
On the first pass, I see the hole I created and scoff, but the noise is lost in the wind.
It’s smaller than the wolf-bat. In fact, it’s so small that I must have broken just enough to get Cass and I through it.
Cass, though, doesn’t seem to care as she aims large lupine feet at the hole and tucks her wings.
We rocket through and into the upper office. Causing a shit ton of noise and shaking more plaster and metal from the ceiling.
I roll a little gracelessly from Cass’ neck and over the floor, returning to my feet a little dizzily.
Cass shifts back, reappearing as herself.
And then we see them.
“Omen,” I whisper, nearly five feet from the mirror-helmeted psychopath.
“Interesting,” they say, a very noticeable mania in their body language and voice. “And here I thought I’d managed to kill both of your lovers.”