The First Age

Cayli sat at the edge of the pool, leaning back on her hands and kicking her feet idly in the water when Natalie returned. Her eyes widened at the pad of footsteps, a suspicious note of panic in the way she moved, but her expression quickly fell to something more sheepish when her baby blue eyes recognised the company. She giggled. "I thought you were Jay. Or mom."

Natalie eyed the three empty glasses. She supposed she ought to be suitably disapproving, but the ghost of a smile shadowed her expression anyway. Seriously, Cay? Her hands planted on her hips, mock stern, while the girl tried to coax her expression into contrition, but the ruse slipped into amusement. It wasn't like she was Cay's parent. What kid wouldn't have sneaked the opportunity? Still, Natalie really didn't want to shoulder the blame for rebellion should her mum or dad happen upon the scene.

She offered out her palm. "We'll skip the part where I remind you all the reasons that was a terrible idea. But take the advice of someone who knows; probably best to sleep it off."

Cay wobbled to her feet, grinning as the woosh of tequila made jelly of her legs the moment she stood, and Natalie grabbed her elbow before she toppled backwards. Laughter fluttered, though apparently Cay wasn't so drunk as to forgo the necessity for a little secrecy. She pressed a finger to her giggling lips and urged a loud shush.

It felt like an age passed negotiating the grand staircase, despite Cayli’s best (she promised) efforts to assist. In the hallway her shuffling steps halted beneath Natalie’s supporting arm, and her large eyes peeped upwards. For a moment she looked very young. "I wish you weren't all going to leave me." Solemnity blinked in her gaze, and it pulled somewhere deep in Natalie’s chest, despite her best intentions to keep her distance. Maybe the power forged bonds of kinship, an illusion of family. Either way the guilt burrowed uninvited.

"That's the margarita talking," she murmured, smoothing the fall of dark gold hair from Cayli’s brow. She’d forget that sisterly affection by the time she woke. Or at least Natalie hoped she would.

Safe passage finally reached the threshold of the guest room, with some relief. A moment later Cayli practically face-planted into the bed. A battle with the bed sheets tucked a blanket over her shoulders. She was asleep before Natalie even closed the door.


The house seemed to breathe quiet around her. Natalie returned to clear the poolside glasses, stalling only a few minute's distraction before she found herself at a loss. She ought to rest while it was an option, but the nip of exhaustion was not so much she thought she would not dream. Her thumb brushed the inside of her wrist despite the telling burn of tired eyes. Instead she searched the kitchen for coffee.

She leaned against the counter while it brewed, mind stalking warily around the decision she had resolved to make like it were some sleeping beast. One apt to bite. Little regret marked the sacrifice, just ample recognition for the finality. The wallet lingered in her palm a long minute before she finally sent the message, the tech banished to her back pocket after and further thought pushed aside.

Afterwards she took the drink outside, feeling less intrusive in the surrounding grounds than in the house. Jay mentioned surveillance, which she did not doubt, but no one chose to bother her. In that quiet moment she recalled the early morning she had walked the school with Azu, coffee in hand, before they had stumbled upon the carnage. Manicured gardens were a long way from the red dusty school yard, though. The sun beat down gentle. She squeezed her thoughts away, seeking distraction.

In the Jasiri compound the women kept themselves occupied, in the classroom and gardens and kitchen. Self-sufficiency bred plenty of diversion for pained hearts and minds. They wove baskets and made jewellery to sell in the city markets, else they found sanctity in god. Masiaka had similarly kept her busy, chafing until she had slowly warmed to the environment and work. Even in Moscow she had inserted herself into the Consul's project whether he wished for her help or not. 

Inactivity sparked restlessness. Ironic, considering the respite she preached to others.

Any distraction would have been welcome then. When did solitude become a burden?

She wandered to find somewhere to sit with enough shade to take the glare from her screen. Doubt gnawed the edges of Jay’s favour, but at least it was something practical to pass a few moments. Money wasn’t an issue; these days she had access to the Northbrook accounts for whatever she needed, though it hadn’t always been the case. Finances proved a virulent argument in the months following her father's arrest, when she'd drowned every available coin into chasing oblivion. Those restrictions ended once it became clear it was an ineffective punishment, though, and since her relocation beyond the affluence of the Custody’s borders she barely thought about the resource. She had not chosen the apartment in Moscow and nor did she pay for it. Her family's wealth peaked the sort of obscenity that meant Natalie had never needed to have regard for basic necessities, and beyond that provision she spent little on frivolity.

The withdrawal of so much money was going to be noticed.

It didn’t stop her, though she briefly considered smoothing the path ahead by calling her mother. Sensible, probably. Extortion rarely ended with a single satisfied transaction, but her tired mind couldn’t conjure a suitable explanation to wave the sudden need away. Eleanor knew where she was, and with whom. That alone would colour any believable shine she could give to a mistruth. If her mother severed her account authorisation she would cross swords with that battle then. Ask forgiveness not permission.

The buzz of her wallet brought a momentary touch of dread to her chest, banished when she read it to a swipe of irritation.

I am not a messaging service.

It wouldn’t kill you though, she replied, uncertain any longer if it was annoyance she felt, or relief.

Another coffee followed the first. She found herself mired in the discomforting company of her own thoughts, robbed of the distractions that usually prevented them unravelling so far. Imani had told her once that Amidah thought her as broken as the other girls at the shelter; that God brought her there for a reason. Maybe she’d burned that opportunity with the risk she had taken, though she rarely regretted it. A family won and lost; not the first nor last since then. Considering the weight of fresher scars, she found faint surprise to discover for the first time that it was a weight she could accept. Idle, she traced the letters kuwa jasiri into the grass. The light of the power pulsed softly.

Maybe she dozed for a while.

Another vibration of her wallet roused her. This time it wasn’t Alvis. Natalie’s brows narrowed at the deadline, about to respond when the second message chimed on the tail of the first. A faint smirk met that demand. She slipped the phone back into her pocket without replying. Intentionally belligerent with the silence.

You're not coming.

As if he had the remotest change of swaying her. She paused to brew a fresh pot in the kitchen. Away from the sun, her skin burned with a faint blush of warmth, too late to remedy but prompting a curious check for the time. The heat of the afternoon lulled her into a quiet mood. The rhythm of simple tasks soothed. She filled a glass with water from the faucet and took the coffees up black, pausing to lean her back against Cay’s door and poke her head in. The girl was gently snoring still, face mashed against the pillow hugged tight against her chest, blankets kicked off. Natalie deposited the glass of water by her bedside.

A brief tap against the door warned her entrance further down the hall. “Probably ought to save the ultimatum for after you have the money, Jay.”

Back in his own clothes, Jensen just looked at his reflection. The pants were a little more snug than he remembered. His hair was longer than he once kept it, styled loose around the collar where he formerly slicked it back neat and tidy. A paleness haunted his cheeks from years of shift work in Moscow. The tan, fit stage-presence he once kept was replaced. By what, he didn’t know. It seemed neither reflection, of what he once was nor what he has become, were the man he was meant to be.

He sent messages off to Jay and Natalie at one point, checking on the welfare of both. Jessika was a superb hostess, and they should want for nothing while under her (their) roof. As it seemed he remained the “man of the house”, he was more comfortable offering comforts than as liaison for guests.

He spent the next few hours in Jessika’s office on a conference video with someone from her offices in Austin. They would need a sterling story to accompany Jensen’s emergence, and for the most part, Jensen only nodded along. He answered a few questions periodically like whether or not he was in fact a channeler.

Ascendancy was going to be displeased if he didn’t return to Moscow, and the longer these discussions endured, Jensen was beginning to empathize.

Finally, when the call was ended and he was alone with his wife, he cleared his throat to acquire her attention.
“Jessika, where are our children?”

She looked up. Fingers laced against the flat of her stomach, “You’re interested in your children, again?”

Subtext understood. He nodded, “I’ve never not been interested in my sons.” A tightness gripped his chest, jaw tightening.

A brow lifted and Jensen knew the venom was about to spew. He lifted a hand. “Alright, Jessika. We need to establish some boundaries here. I’ve repeatedly pleaded for forgiveness. Clearly you don’t want to give it to me, and I cannot honestly condemn you for it, but if we are going to continue this arrangement, I hope we can cease with the sarcasm. We all know what I did. You’re not God to punish me for it.”

She seemed surprise by Jensen’s defense, but while the mask of her anger did not soften, neither did it release additional attacks.

“Very well.”

“Gabriel and Malachi are with my parents.”

Jensen nodded. “Colorado. Good. They should be remote and safe from what’s coming.”

Jessika shook her head, “No. They’re in Austin.”

“What?!”

Jessika smoothed her skirt and stood. “They’re close to me and safe enough. Most importantly, they’re inside state border. When our plan is revealed, I want them in Texas.”

“What plan?”

She smiled with eerie confidence.

Details about the night’s meeting populated his Wallet just as a knock warned an intruder. Stripped to his shorts, Natalie froze him to surprise. Half of him wanted to yank a blanket over himself while the other half wanted to chuck the shorts toward sea. Instead, he snatched the pile that was his pants from the floor and shimmied quickly into them. He fumbled with the zipper as he turned to regard the banter.
A playful grin illuminated his freshly rested expression, “Would it have done any good?”

If Jay ever suffered from delusions of modesty, the habit was long ago crushed. Communal living did it if the high school locker room didn’t. He walked the hotel hallway after Anna Marie in more skin than presently revealed, but there was something microscopic about doing so in front of Natalie. Like she was looking through the skin and dared to glimpse the man inside. Probably a bad idea to even attempt it. Sounded like a good way to burn those incredible eyes from her skull. But the ceiling fan brushed air across his chest, and a brief flush gripped the base of his brain. A mix of shock and heat, a rush like falling followed. The sense passed with the blink of an eye, but Jay found a palm pressed to his abdomen and a frown pulling his brow low. He shivered and quickly found a t-shirt to shrug overhead. Then he flicked off the damn ceiling fan with a knick of the power.

Wallet slipped into a back pocket. Arms folded over his chest. He attempted to summon as much command as he could muster. “I go alone. You should stay with Cayli. If anything happens, you’re her best shot to get to safety. There’s someone here you can trust, too. His name is Axel Miller and he runs Thrice’s security team. We served together.” Haunts shadowed his gaze briefly. Of jungles and heat; light flashing like punches to the dark. He could smell the humidity still. Humidity thickened with the hanging veil of gun smoke. Smelled good. 

“Go to him for help if you need it.”
Friends are the ones to watch the most, a warning invaded. One he almost spoke aloud. Instead, he tucked the doubt into the back of his mind and opened his Wallet to accept the transferred money.

---

Cayli’s limbs froze in place as soon as she heard the shuffling of feet. A quiet thud and then the visitor retreated. A narrow slit of one eye peeked over the blankets, and she realized it was Natalie, not mom. Her parents must still be asleep.

She rubbed her eyes and greedily gulped the water. So nice. A stretch and she slipped to her feet. Her brother’s hushed voice echoed muted mumbles down the hall. The door ajar, she knew where Natalie must have gone. It wasn’t like Jay was carrying on a conversation with mom and dad. Not anymore.

Just a quick listen.. she tip toed closer.

---

“I’ll take the car and turn on gps tracking. That way, in case anything happens, you’ll know where I am. Or at least.. where I was.”

Between prepping the car, dinner, and a clean of the guns, it seemed they had time to spare. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, bare toes nestled in the fibers of the rug, a grin haunting his lips. “It’s a while until midnight. I can’t think of anything to pass the time.” Lies. A cat-like grin roamed her profile. He thought of plenty.

---

Cayli’s heart beat erratic in her chest. Conversations she didn’t understand washed through her fingers, but what was grasped formed enough of a picture for comprehension. And horror. Jay was doing something dangerous and alone.Like always. He was leaving at midnight. Her wild heart sank to her stomach when she realized it had to do with her. All of this was her fault. Her family was in danger because of her. Jay was miserable because of her. At the very least, she should be part of fixing all of this mess.

She set a self-alarm for quarter to midnight and hurried back to her room to see if she had any black clothes in her bag.

Motion caught Axel’s attention. He watched that little girl snooping around the line of vehicles outside the garage with faint curiosity. She was checking handles and locks, peering through the tinted windows as though searching for something lost in each.  The girl was cute as a kitten. Axel gave her that.

He snatched a lighter on his way out of the security house.

He was leaning against the governor’s lead SUV when the girl rounded the front. She gasped and jumped backward. Axel’s quick motion grabbed her elbow before she fell over.

“Jumpy?” He asked, brows raised. The cigarette didn’t even move from his lips as he put her back on her feet. She was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt that Axel recognized belonging to the governor. Her hair in a pony tail.

She shoved his hand off her elbow. “Don’t touch me,” she ordered with all the command of a ruler and he the lowly subject.
He laughed and retracted said hands.
“Yes ma’am. Don’t want you to get hurt is all. What are you doing around the cars?”

She shuffled her feet, that lower lip bitten ever so slightly. “I left something and I am looking for it.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

She lifted her chain, “None of your business.”

Axel laughed again. She didn’t look too pleased by his reaction. “Let me tell you something, Cayli Carpenter, everything on this property is my business, including the governor’s guests. You see, my job is to keep the governor safe, and I can’t allow anyone to go snooping around armored vehicles no matter how innocent.”

He smiled reassuringly, nodding his head backward. “Your vehicle is over there. Come on, I’ll show you how to unlock it.”

Her attention launched itself toward the SUV that drove from Iowa. He showed her how an authorized user could gain entrance, but being that it was the governor’s property, Axel could override the system. He opened the rear door and waited patiently while she climbed in.

Cayli cautiously crawled in, peering under the seats for whatever it was she lost. When she looked back over her shoulder, Axel’s expression was flat. “Lock it up when you’re done.” He said and left her to the search.

Back at the gatehouse, he witnessed her slip out of the car and gently shut the door without locking it.

Nothing was in her hands as she hurried back to the house.

“Not really,” she agreed lightly. She found his coffee a perch on a cabinet while he pulled his clothes on, unabashed in the way she watched the sink of his hips into the band of his jeans, or the ripple of flesh as he lifted the tshirt over his head. Her blood flared hot. She made no attempts to dampen the tease of her smile, nor the heat of a gaze that might have beckoned another man into the arms of the sea, a lifetime ago. “I didn’t take you for shy.”

When he turned he loomed tall, arms folded, like sheer force of will could bend the steel of her spine where others tried and failed. Amusement flickered, warmed by something that might have edged on fondness for the naivete of that earnest attempt. Perhaps surprisingly, she didn’t argue. It wasn’t like he presented her with anything unreasonable. Instead she transferred the funds and retreated to the head of the guest bed, to at least weather the lecture in comfort. She tucked her legs up, pulled a pillow into her lap, and cradled the coffee in her palms while he spoke. He’d be wrong to mistake her silence as compliance, of course, but she did at least listen.

Natalie understood the trust he placed in wanting to leave something so precious as his baby sister in her care, just as she understood the safe line he urged her to stand behind while he plunged his hand into the night. But it was only his own conscience he eased by insisting on burdening the risk alone, and it appealed to a sense of altruism she had never claimed to possess.

This house had a professional security detail. It had Jensen James, whose gifts far outstripped Natalie’s own.

Jay knew that.

“I very much doubt the bounty on your head is less than five grand.” Dryness cracked the words; she only pointed out the obvious. Any informant had far more to gain by setting a trap than in honouring hollow promises greased by cash, even if the meeting had been arranged by someone trusted. She didn’t probe the bindings of the brotherhood that offered up such a chance, though the questions skated across her own mind. Ghosts hardened Jay’s expression, but she knew something of bloody bonds formed in the dark. Well-placed trust or blind hope, her support was steadfast either way, and not because she thought this was going to go well.

Jay had spoken of it as an opportunity for information, but that wasn’t what Natalie saw. The cynicism in her heart rooted far deeper than even the most desperate hope allowed. Either the informant would try to exhort more money, or they would attempt to collect the bounty. Thus the opportunity she saw was a grimmer thing, like blood in the back of the throat, though the clarity in her pale gaze did not flinch away from recognition. She wondered if it was an intention Jay toyed with in the back of his mind, like a tug on that leashed monster within, or if she was cut more from the cloth of her father’s callousness than she realised, to even think it.

Because Jay was a channeler now; one trained by Brandon’s own hand into the cruel arm of a soldier. Tonight he could choose to make an example of any who crossed him; to make collection of that bounty pale beneath the terror of the attempt, until none dare try.

To be the bigger monster.

She didn’t suggest it, of course, even if he might read something in her sudden quietness. It was a facet of his nature she had never shied from; a darkness accepted as readily as the light, even when she felt the strength of its teeth. The fierceness of such protectiveness unsettled her despite the weight of acceptance. Because if it was what he chose, she knew she would be there afterwards: to drag him out of the abyss. “Since Amengual was at the gala, it’s unlikely he’d want to risk war with the Custody. It’s about the only leverage you have,” she said instead. 

Jay played at ruthlessness sometimes, and roused himself to the capability when the need spiralled. She was not sure upon which side that coin would land once it finally dropped, because she did not mean the fresh obligations of a crisp grey uniform, but the blood in her veins. It was the way her father might have seen things; to break them into their component parts, carve out the emotion. She did not offer such a shield out as a bloody sacrifice, wrought with blinded feeling. It was something else. Something surer. “You’re not going alone.”

A faint smile tugged, despite the firmness with which she had spoken; maybe summoned by the ghost of his own grin. She was stubborn, and armed to defend, but she wasn’t looking for an argument either. Something devilish gleamed in response to his tease, shivering playful beneath the suggestion of his gaze. She let it fire her pulse, uncoiling her legs slowly to stretch them out along his bed. In the Kremlin’s corridors only urgency stayed the hands that might have tugged him somewhere private. By the lakeside interruption cooled the heat. She’d never been coy about desire.

Wicked man.

Natalie made a show of consideration, but it was little more than a languorous dare to cross that ocean. Restraint tempered every half grasped opportunity, but it was quiet now. Despite that, in a game of bluff and tease, she didn’t doubt who would win.

The woman had to sink on the bed. And with that, he was a world away once again. She tugged from the shadows, pulling them both into light. Already crimson blushed her skin like a warning against life in the blinding light too long. She would do so again, burning them both in the process. But damn what a way to go. It would be so easy. A few steps separated wasteland from bliss. All it took was to break one small chain holding him back.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and let Natalie take her rest. Previous efforts was half-hearted attempts at coercion. But Jay lied to himself primarily, and under that pretense: “Yes of course I thought it would work. I am a terrifying beast whose orders are followed to the letter.” The mild grin accompanying the mighty speech sabotaged all attempts at seriousness, but there was a hint of sharpness buried in the cruelty of any such joke.

Maybe if Jensen and he cornered her together. Talked her into reason. Though he knew it would be a foolish attempt. Natalie wore defiance like other women wore jewelry. Not even that would work. Short of restraining her.. no. He’d never do it. Probably not even to save her life? Maybe. Best not to go there yet. Unless he knew it would absolutely save her, but it would cost her a chip of her soul to do so. Where Natalie wore defiance, Jay wore self-sacrifice like a hangman’s noose waiting for the final knot. Only if it was absolutely necessary would he ever physically restrain her. Even then, it was unlikely to work for long. Not after his thumbs grazed the scars at her wrist. She may live through the experience, but what survived would be a grey version of herself.

Fact was, Natalie’s presence posed a real complication. Her attendance at this meeting would compromise the quickness of his reflexes. Blunt the ferocity of his retaliation. Simply because he couldn’t bear to let her witness it. He’d lose her then.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair again. Dammit.

Oh this was certain to be a trap. If tonight wasn’t the snap of a cage, then the next would be. Jay knew about the bounty. He counted on it, actually. If he showed his face enough, paraded around the right people, someone would attempt to collect.

So. Rather than stand there and watch Natalie literally unfurl herself like an open invitation he was on the verge of accepting, he went to his bag and rummaged through the contents. Eyes landing on the uniform, he paused before exhuming it.

Since the lake, at some point Jay tended to the cloth. It was clean and freshly pressed by irons of power. He reverently laid the coat on the dresser alongside the coffee he definitely intended on drinking and removed a very specific pin.

At the time the pin was presented, Jay wielded vows strong as iron. Ascendancy’s pride was all the mattered. He would lay down his life to defend him, though he never considered himself so heroic . But now, half a world away, the pin was a symbol of leverage. What a poor soldier he made. Vows constantly scattered to the wind; words meaning the world at the time, but abandoned at first convenience.

With a sigh, he showed it to Natalie. She would remember it from the ball. “At his swiftest, Amengual is days away. I looked in his eyes, Natalie. He doesn’t want me dead. Not for a while anyway. This pin is feeble protection, but it shields only me. Your name shields you. Jensen’s art shields him. But Cayli is alone. Without us. She will never have a normal life as long as Zacarias lives.” A hint maybe at Jay’s end game. Governments, doctors, conspiracies would live on. A future battle for another day. But they would forget about one little girl. For Amengual, it was personal. The bet was whether or not Amengual feared Ascendancy more than he hated Jay.

His palm closed around the pin, it’s points piercing his skin one last time before he gave it to her. “Take it. Take it back to Ascendancy. Take Cayli with you. Please promise you’ll do it if it comes to that.”

He knew what he was walking into. Counted on it, anyway.

Next he retrieved a gun. It was a smaller caliber. Easy to conceal. Which was why it was stashed in his bag and not with the rest of the firearms. That he also laid at her side. Its weight sank into the Downey blankets as it did.

“This is my mother’s. It’s easy to cock, low recoil. Do you know how to use one?” He’d show her if not. “If you’re coming, this should fit in a jacket pocket or a purse. Not that you’re going to need it.” A confident grin.

They had plenty of time till midnight. The remainder of the evening, Jay studied maps of the area of the meeting. He cleaned his own pistols. Ate all the steak at the dinner table. Checked in with Jensen and Axel. Even hung out with his parents for a short time watching tv.

It wasn’t like it was the last time he would see them. But men have strange routines on the eve of battle.

---

Cayli didn’t need her alarm. She watched the clock religiously. It was worse than when she was chained to the hospital bed, this endless waiting. Having snuck into the governor’s closet, she borrowed a black t-shirt for the night, changing into it only after she was dutifully confined to her bedroom. Finally, at twenty till midnight, she snuck with all the talent of a teenager, toward the garage.

---

Axel typically relinquished his shift for the night at 10 PM, but tonight was special. “A gut feeling”, he explained to the night guards, and sent them on patrol around the rear of the estate. Well away from the garages.

Dutifully, he swiveled the camera’s line of sight away from Jay’s vehicle.

---

Cayli wished she could see in the dark. Luckily, that creepy guy believed her story earlier. He let her in the car that she left unlocked. She was terrified of being caught and moved as fast as she could to the car. She lifted the hatch and climbed in where their luggage was stowed away on the drive down. Hood drawn up over her eyes, nobody would see her unless they specifically opened the back hatch. She locked the car from the inside and held her breath.

---

Only the most up and up activities took place in the middle of the night, and Preston Hollow was a far cry from their derelict destination. They needed to depart on time. Axel opened the gate, giving him a nod as they drove through it. It was good to see him, but some things never changed. At least Jay hoped they hadn’t. It was a bet, and even if he didn’t win this hand, he would before the game was done. Assuming his count of the cards were accurate.

He raked a hand through his hair.

Amusement drew a low laugh. It was probably unfair, but no one ever said she was a saint. 

Sobriety punctured the next moment anyway, when the grey uniform unfurled and smoothed on the dresser behind. She tucked her legs back up and watched his expression, perhaps cataloguing some small thing to the commitment of memory.

“Yes.”

She said nothing of what it might mean for her to return to the Custody with the pin but not Brandon’s weapon, and if the thought occurred to her it was a peripheral thing. She'd made no vows. Her blood was already marked with traitorous shadows. Truth was, it was an easy promise.

Of the gun she was more blasé. “Not like I needed one before,” she said dryly, gaze following as he laid its weight on the mattress beside her. She was still working through her memory of the instinctive blend of power that had saved her and Ekene’s life in the hospital. Her job at the school had hardly warranted such protection, at least before that day. But before that. The shelter in Tanzania was a place of peace; it was why she had been unable to return after what had happened with Imani. But, as Amidah said, sometimes peace must be preserved. “I know enough.”

She watched Jay pour over maps for a while; committed what she could to her own memory, until the lines began to blur and the last remains of caffeine became little more than a dream. It would have been easy to curl up. She didn’t. But she did hover where he still studied for a moment, feeling a weight to the weapon he had given her that had little to do with the physical. “I couldn’t control the power before. Sometimes it came when I needed it, and sometimes it didn’t. It was what happened to me in the tunnels that changed it.”

It was the sort of hard truth she didn’t have any trouble in saying, even if he had trouble hearing it. Smoothness detached the words like they belonged to someone else; not out of denial, but because something had internalised. Strength could be illusory; a fortress erected through willpower. But sometimes that was all it took to become real. She wasn’t something else in the litany of things he needed to protect; that was what she wanted him to know. 

“Sometimes a little darkness is what makes us what we are.” Her smirk cut like wire, sharp at the edges, and she brushed her thumb against the freshly-smoothed line of his jaw, just because she was a tease.

And because a little darkness also made it easier to see the things that shone.


Back in her room she watched the dying afternoon light and tried to convince herself to rest a while. Despite that resolution, the bed remained untouched. She sat by the window, her phone on the sill -- still glanced at from time to time, though it remained silent (of course it did). Jay’s pin rested in her palm, her fingers closed around its edges. Ludovico Einaudi pumped through earbuds, soothing out the sharpness of her thoughts.

She woke from a pillow of her folded arms, neck stiff. Darkness swathed the room now, even the last touches of summer gold long since gone. Her music had silenced. When she checked the time she swore.

She had enough of it to change and conceal the gun, then poke her head into Cayli’s room. It looked like the girl had curled up tight into the blankets, still asleep. The glass of water was empty, though.


Silence reigned in the car. She doubted Jay would want to speak, and Natalie had nothing to say. No meaningless platitudes softened the severity of the task, and she was not inclined to small talk at the best of times. She found the quiet peaceful anyway, like staring out at the still waters of a dark horizon, the shadow of tomorrow nothing more than a promise to weather later. The lull of the engine pressed the threat of sleep, or at least some half awareness, since she mostly watched the dark road sweep by and tried not to slip under the blur of city lights. 

Her thoughts wandered into lucid dreaming. Maybe the faint sunburn evoked memories of Africa's heat, stinging her skin like a warning. She recalled the face of the woman who had pinched Ekene’s face with fear. What had he called her? Whatever it was, she could not shift the growth of unease as the miles ribboned beneath their wheels. The sense that she had missed something.

It startled her when the connection finally sparked, already half twisted round to the dark caverns of the car behind. “Fuck.” Urgency rippled; a rare crack of it in her usually stoic demeanour. She didn’t know if Jay had ever witnessed the restlessness of her usual sleeping patterns, or had seen her jerk like that before. But this was no phantom. She grabbed at his wrist like the word wouldn’t penetrate on its own, unthinking of the road ahead or the oncoming traffic. “Fuck, stop the car.”

Her belt slithered free before he’d fully pulled over, setting off the plaintive ding of the alarm. The wheels had barely ground to a stop before she’d flung open the passenger door. Her heart pumped in her throat, though she already knew what she was going to find. There curled up in the boot, bright hair tucked under a hood, eyes screwed shut.

Cayli.

Her thrumming heart sank at first, like the weight of the world pulled her under. It seemed impossible. Not the ruse of pillows stuffed under blankets or brazen teenage recklessness, but the why of it. She didn't look at Jay, couldn't quite finish the circle of that connection to how utterly fucked they were. God knew she didn't want to witness his expression right then.

The seconds trickled before Cayli dare peek. Understandably pale faced, though it didn't elicit much sympathy. “I feel sick.”

“How did you even get in here? The car was locked up.”

“Axel let me in.”

Silence answered, perhaps because the response was not the one she expected. Asking why subsided to a nasty taint of suspicion. Instead she directed Cayli to get out and strap into one of the seats. Voice cold. Maybe it was just the nausea, or maybe it was only a sense of victory, but Cayli did it with a surprising lack of protest. The door pulled shut behind her. From the muffled sounds within she already leaned in to fiddle with the radio, oblivious.

“I know he’s like a brother, Jay. But I am going to fucking kill him.”

Fury blistered through her chest as she slammed down the boot. She turned to rest her weight against the car, arms folded. It burned through quickly, that anger. No conflict marred her expression. Just frustration. She'd been adamant Jay would not take the risk alone, but she wasn't foolish either. The risks she allowed for herself were not extended unduly to others, particularly when those others were children. It was too late to turn back. There was no choice to be made, but it still felt like her lungs were filled with glass.

“I should have been paying attention.” The words were murmured. They were irritated. If she had agreed to stay, would she have checked Cayli’s room properly, or would Jay now be halfway to hell with his baby sister concealed unknown in the back? The level of blame was as pointless as the anger. The facts weren’t welcome, but they were what they were. She blinked, then straightened. Sickness swam faint in her stomach, recalling Jay’s words back in his room, and the weight of that pin. Resolution made her voice iron. “There's a truck stop a mile off the meeting place. We'll wait for you there.”

The road ticked by. Lines and lights. A highway mostly abandoned of other travelers. Darkness drenched the horizon with a familiarity that was strangely peaceful. Another road, but the journey was one he traveled before.

Any fatigue that might wrench his shoulders low was abandoned to the city limits. Suburbs, with all their pockmarks of light, made up the dark sea through which the vehicle glided. Normal, happy people slept at this time of night. The kinds that curled in beds with feet sticking out the edges of plush blankets. Probably engaged in some sort of eternal battle over cover-sharing with whomever else was in the bed. The kind of battle Jay would give his hand to fight forever. Metaphorically anyway. Probably not ready to relinquish a whole hand to the cause. His were pretty firmly attached.

He turned on a bit of music as Natalie’s motions steadied with the doze of sleep. He couldn’t help but glance at the shadowy planes of her face, aglow with the neon lights of the dashboard. Then to where her hands propped her head in place. He reached across and adjusted the fan to blow comfortable breezes while she rested, but bypassed a tempting graze over her knuckles. It was a bad idea to rouse someone with unexpected touch. That was the kind of thing to get you shot (not metaphorical).

They had plenty of time before the meet. So he settled into the seat, hands tapping lightly on the wheel along with the music. Just enough to keep him distracted from his own thoughts. He devoted enough to the plan for the day. Now was the time to wait. Action would come soon enough.

Which led him down a path he probably shouldn’t go. If he focused too much, he’d talk himself out of the whole ordeal. It was a mad idea. But then again, he never claimed sanity. As soon as he saw Axel, he hoped to take advantage of any nefarious connections the man wielded. He really was a good guy, and Jay hated to use his own darkness against him, but war didn’t craft men into better creatures. In fact, war pulled all the worst of your soul to the surface, like filth slicking the surface of purity beneath.

If anyone knew about Amengual’s bounty on Jay, it would be Axel. Guessing that an ambush awaited was a gamble. Either way, Jay was leaving tonight with something he wanted. He’d keep dangling the bait in that filthy lake until something was hooked.

Natalie’s voice punched all thought from his head.

His own shot toward hers. ”What? That familiar pulse of danger pushed heat through his veins. Everything tensed. Poised. He searched for the danger she sensed.  

Dust kicked clouds high when they stopped on the shoulder. Natalie jumped out, and Jay followed, power brimming awareness to senses already on high alert.  Disbelief froze Natalie in place. The little ball of a girl huddled nervously. He just stared at her. Globes of eyes peering out from the abyss of her hood like the first time he saw Shredder. So innocent and vulnerable. Sitting there in the grass, hoping to not be trampled to death, but hoping someone would notice. Just wanting to be loved. Missing its family. Lost. Frightened.

Jay turned away and rubbed his eyes. He might actually throw up. A storm welled inside. Rage throwing cracks down the damn that held back those churning waters. He knew how she got in there. He knew who.

He punched a wall in the casino like it was paper. The car found itself a new dent. Jay’s hand flared white hot. But it was the power inside that wanted to rip the metal to shreds. To pick it up with chains of power and throw it to the dark fucking horizon.

As it wasn’t his first experience being stranded in the country without a car, he climbed into the drivers’ seat and pulled back out on the highway without demolishing anything. His hand hurt, but at least the pain pushed away memories he’d rather not conjure at the moment. They had to turn back. Cayli could not be with them. He knew he was walking into the fire, and he couldn’t protect everyone. He was trying to bait Amengual. Not give him everything he ever wanted.

Their words filtered like ghosts on the periphery. Natalie’s suggestion was the first indication he heard any of it. Jaw tight. Hand gripped hard on the wheel. He met her eyes, and reluctantly nodded.

The truckstop was a neon oasis.

Brakes squealed to a stop in the parking lot. He turned to face down Cayli, but all words of rebuke died on his lips. The frightened little girl looked back, and he wondered what of her brother she actually saw. The monster that he took such care to hide from her? The honorable warrior was far from his expression. A hero on the mantle corroded? A uniform lost?

It was all he could do to speak with Natalie, but his voice was tight as his guts. ”Watch my wallet tracker. You’ll stay here. If I don’t check in with you in thirty minutes, call Jensen.”

Axel, he might actually kill. The man crossed a line bringing Cayli into this. Brothers, warriors. Whatever he wanted to fight could be kept with those ready to handle the battle.

Once he was on the road again, he called Axel from the car’s system. To his amazement, the man actually answered.
“Jay?”

He was quiet for a second. Darkness of the road flaring black into the cage of his heart. “You know what happened to the last man that threatened an innocent girl.”

He hung up and took the exit.

Side roads kicked up dirt. The vehicle rumbled toward a basin of darkness lined with old chainlink. Enormous shapes gobbled up the shadows. An abandoned rail yard that once intersected all the major coal trains stretched like the cemetery of an entire industry. The iron rails criss-crossed the plain like veins on a corpse.

Fresh tire tracks scored the gravel. He wasn’t the first one to arrive. Good. He was ready to get this over with.

The car door slammed like an explosion in the silence. Only stars stretched above. Shadows scratched deep crevices below. But the power was alive inside like a demon looking out through his eyes. One that could see in the dark.

He was ready to let it out.

“You’re late,” the grizzly voice of a seasoned man scratched his ears just as a figure turned a corner of one of the train cars.

The voice wasn’t wrong.

Jay remained where he was and let the power give him a better picture. Male, about average height, but broad of shoulder. He wore a cowboy hat, black-dyed denim, and alligator boots. There were likely three places he carried a weapon, and Jay was willing to bet he wore more on his person.

He was Caucasian. Clean-shaven. Nothing outstanding that said he was either a druggie, broke, or desperate. No sign he was willing to betray a feared cartel just for the money. Then again, Jay never believed this was as simple as it was made out to be.

“Got my money?”

“Do you have information or not?” Jay replied. It wasn’t a lot of cash, but he wasn’t going to just throw away Natalie’s money for no good reason.

The man frowned, hooking two thumbs on his belt. He growled in frustration but took a step forward. Jay held his ground, eyes flicking around the tops of the train cars just in case.
“Yah I got information on that slick fucker.”

Jay gently retrieved his wallet. The other man watched the motion warily. “Money is ready to transfer. Just make it worth the while and its yours. Why is the cartel interested in Moscow?”

The guy laughed, “You don’t beat around the bush, do yeh, kid?”

Jay waited patiently, but his unease was growing. He thought something would have happened by now. Maybe the guy really was in it for the money, but people had bizarre vices. Who knew what this one was into.

“Seems he’s got business with ole-man Ass-candy. You see those videos?” Jay didn’t laugh and shook his head no.

“That’s not worth this cash. Tell me something I don’t know.”

The contact shrugged, “Well, seems he has a lot of business interests. Legit. Not legit. Also pretty close with our pretty governor. They’ve met plenty of times.”

Jay blinked. Jessika Thrice? Jensen’s wife? The holy church lady that took the state by storm on her wholesome campaigns and optimistic hopes for the future?

“Why is she meeting with a drug lord?”

“What’s to separate the drug lords from business lords except a state that decides one’s product is legal and the other’s illegal?”

Surprisingly deep. Jessika was more than she let on.

“Alright, when was the last time they met?”

“About a month ago. My money now.”

Jay nodded and came within range to make the transfer. He looked down. A sting pinched his neck like the wasps buzzing around Sierra Leone were resurrected in the Texan desert.  “Fuck-“ he swat at his neck, wallet dropped, and yanked away something disturbingly stuck into his skin.

It took a second, or maybe longer, but the power drained away like the whole well of it dried up. He reached for it. But panic ascended instead. It was gone.

Memory pulsed his muscles, but an arm flew before he could reach his weapon. Arms collided. Blocked and deferred. Defense sprang, but he kept reaching for the power. Like those first futile attempts grasping it in Nox’s basement. Maybe he should question his sanity. Had he ever channeled? Was he really in Texas?

More arms appeared. Figures that seemed to rise from the ashes. Railroad tracks resurrected like some necromancer summoned their iron bars to life.

The panic circled as desperation for the power delved too deep to ignore. He could hear Amengual’s laughter in his head. Thank God he left Cayli behind… Someone connected. Heat flared his jaw. Then a punch to the solar plexus flared fire up his back, but he wasn’t down yet. He tried again for a weapon. Wielding instead the arm of an attacker, throwing his weight into another. But a boot to the knee collapsed his weight with a pained yell. Not as bad as the kid in Freetown. No sick snaps or crunches. But the pain of it was enough of the opening needed. The ground caught his body. Weights threw themselves down. It took four men to keep him there.

Blurry eyes looked toward the north as they dragged him away almost able to make out the neon glow. At least Natalie and Cayli were safe.

Any sense of war within was tucked neatly away. Natalie avoided goodbyes with that same neatness, cold as fresh snow. She accepted the instruction without comment, betraying just a single flex of her jaw as she shut the car door. Contingencies marched a useless path through her mind, seeking even meagre advantage in the messy ruins of what had been a crazy plan in the first place. She didn’t turn to watch Jay pull away. Instead she ushered Cayli by the hand, sure the girl would need the anchor. They were going to stick out sorely in a place like this, alone, in the early hours of the morning. 

She paused only when Cayli stuck her heels in, horrified to stone, like the panic erupted all at once as the jeep’s tail lights faded from view. The teenager’s eyes were wide and glossed beneath the stolen hood, her skin washed pale by the truck stop’s neon glow. A ragged breath spilled a sob that sounded frightened. “We can’t just let him go alone!”

Natalie didn’t bother to point out that he wouldn’t have been, if Cayli hadn’t been so stupid as to sneak into the boot of the car in the first place. But blame was pointless, and the last thing she wanted to do was alienate the kid enough to send her skittish into the dark.

“He’s protecting you the best way he can,” she said instead.

“I don’t need his protection!”

A morbid smirk caught her lips at the conviction, but found little kinship in the girl’s broken expression. She couldn’t fix these wounds, even if she understood the frustration of a pedestal. Bitterness discovered fertile soil in such miscommunications. Natalie never chose to wait behind willingly, but so often it was the mantle strung across her shoulders. Some things had to be weathered. Her arms folded, the solemnity of her expression probably of little comfort.

She knew what Jay wanted her to do. Alert Jensen. Usher Cayli to safety. Shore up the edges of a plan that made the self-sacrifice worth it. The pastor would come to get them, she was sure. Then all Natalie needed to do was convince Jay’s parents that the safest place for their daughter to be was the Custody. Jay’s gamble would pay off, or it wouldn’t. Either way, there would be a resolution. Unless she was wrong about his intentions, and thirty minutes from now his headlights flooded into the car park, the door opening to the damn grin that caught the breath in her lungs.

She sighed, balling up that well of emotion, a fantasy, until it felt like lead in her chest, and held out her hand.

The diner was small and worn. Cayli scooted into a booth, silent, hood still drawn up to disguise red-raw eyes. The gun felt obtrusive inside Natalie’s jacket, like a beacon for any who cared to look too closely at their entrance. Her gaze took fleeting inventory of the occupants as she sat, fingers smoothing the edges of her wallet. Her thoughts buzzed quietly. Jay had said Amengual was days away, even at his swiftest. If they took Jay tonight revenge would not be metered by the hands of another, a nauseating net of safety, at least for now. Alive was a low bar after all. But they would still be looking for Cayli. Axel’s assumed betrayal bled a dark stain over the sanctuary of the James’ mansion, but to disappear now would likely incite the Carpenters to hysteria at the sudden loss of both children. Cries that might have otherwise been lost to an uncaring system could instead draw weight from a governor's backing. Such furore would be an unwelcome complication.

Natalie checked the time, cataloguing how much of it she had before she would have to make a decision. It would be at least dawn before anyone was likely to notice Cayli’s absence from her bed. A few hours, then. She brushed a hand over her face, smoothing back her hair, then looked up to find a waitress with an equally tired smile crimping the edges of her eyes gazing down at them, curious. “Well, don’t y’all look about fit to drop.”

“We ran out of gas about a mile up the road.” The lie sailed smoothly. It wasn’t difficult to let some of the genuine worry flush through. Natalie gestured the wallet in her hands, offering a meagre smile in return. “I’m trying to get hold of our father.”

The woman’s head tilted, gaze skipping between Natalie’s face and the blonde hair spilled from Cayli’s hood, but if she sensed anything amiss she didn’t care to question. “Bless my soul, you two walk all this way in the dark? Let me fix you something while you wait. The coffee’s good. Our pie might even be enough to cheer you sister. You okay there, sweetie?” She paused, but only for a second, chuckling to herself, then added to Natalie, “I got teenagers of my own.”

Gut warnings died harder deaths when the game changed. As the waitress left, Natalie’s attention drifted back to her phone. A frown pinched her brow. Her father’s silence gnawed a wound she had no time to tend beyond the fleeting hope he might have been able to help. Such a thought swirled nauseous as much as it plucked at the strings around her heart, reaching out for something she was never going to find. Least of all in that direction. She wouldn’t risk pulling the remainder of her family into this mess. Allies beyond that were sparse. But being helpless beat the blood at her temples. She refused to submit to it.

Find someone for me? Not a favour this time, since you’re a lousy friend. Name the price.

She laid the wallet flat after the message sent. Watched until the screen darkened.

Silence burned as they waited. Cayli picked at the pie for a while before she pushed the plate away. Beside it the wallet buzzed sudden notification of the transfer, ghosting ice through Natalie’s stomach. She ought to call Jensen. She’d promised to keep Cay safe, an oath she would not break while she had breath. But the power hovered at the edges of her mind, a balm for any faint guilt at the thoughts now in her head. She knew what Jay needed her to do, but he couldn’t feel the crashing storm in her chest. Fate ushered her into a corner, crooning softly, but when it came to it Natalie snapped. Defiance won.

She would do what she needed to do. She would do what she promised. But she couldn’t just leave him.

“I need you to trust me,” she murmured as she stood, taking her empty mug to the counter. It wasn’t a manipulation she was proud of; the soft and fretful bite of her lip, the wide spill of worry in her pale eyes. The waitress looked up. “He’s not picking up. I can’t get hold of anyone. God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to do.”

The woman reacted predictably, warmth filling up her expression for two such lost souls. She blinked and leaned over to pat her hand over Natalie’s. “Oh well hey now honey. Where’d you say you left that car? Two hoots and a holler away, and all you’re needing is gas? This ain’t nothing we can’t fix.”

She let the woman fawn and comfort, sparing a glance at Cayli. But the girl’s face was unreadable.


The trucker made idle chit chat in the cab, and Natalie flowed through the motions, only half listening. His name was Ethan, a friend of the waitress and a regular at the stop (plus an ardent fan of their raspberry jelly donuts, far superior to the pie). Two little kiddies waited at home, and a picture of his wife dangled from the rearview, her smiling face cast in the shadows racing past outside. Natalie told him in turn that they were visiting family following a funeral, a declaration that invited little question. Beside her Cayli sat stiffly, staring out the window.

The signal had not moved. Her heart pounded distraction, thrumming in her palms, where her nails bedded a tight grip. To the outside world her hands lay neat in her lap.

Ethan frowned when she directed him off the highway, and leaned to knock a finger against her wallet like the faulty tech might respond differently with a little persuasion. “You sure? Nothin’ but abandoned railroads down that way.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “GPS must have malfunctioned. I thought it was the turning for the service station.“

He shrugged, apparently appeased. Her accent spoke well enough of an outsider. “Well, my baby won’t make it down there. Let me park her up. I’ll give you a hand with the gas.”

Natalie didn’t argue, though guilt buried sharp barbs at the thought of what might still wait in the darkness ahead. She didn’t even know for sure that the car would be there though, and it would have seemed odd to refuse. The power drifted close at hand, coaxing confidence. When she finally let it seep into her skin she felt Cayli’s attention perk, and after a moment a twin glow blurred her edges. The trucker’s flashlight beamed against eerie chain-link as they trudged along the gravel road. He continued pleasant conversation, filling up the silence until they discovered the dark edges of the jeep, then set about refuelling the tank while Natalie held the light. She stared out at the looming carcasses of the trains, but nothing stirred. If Ethan noticed the car hadn’t been running on empty he didn’t say.

They drove him back to his truck. 

Relief was harder to feign with the cold gripping her insides, but Natalie thanked him genuinely enough. He flicked the rim of his cap before he slammed the door, wishing them a safe onward journey, though clearly glad to leave the dark of the train graveyard behind. Their engine idled as the truck roared back to life and peeled slowly away from the hard shoulder. Natalie’s pale gaze found Cayli’s in the rearview mirror. The girl was shivering, though it wasn’t cold.

“I won’t ask you to wait behind.” The words were quiet. Cayli was a kid, but her innocence was but a burnt shadow of what it was. Or would be. Fairness didn’t enter the equation. Natalie shouldn’t have brought Cayli back here at all, not with everything at risk, and not with everything she had promised. But survival would require a deeper strength than ignorance allowed. They’d run out of good choices a while ago. If she was cutting corners, it was only to the inevitable.

“Jay killed someone important," she said bluntly. "Justice demands like for like. They’ll try to take someone he loves in return.”

“They want me first.”

Natalie didn’t answer that, though her gaze remained unblinking. Honesty stared back, allowing the time for process. A heavy cross for someone so young to bear, and a burden likely to fuel recklessness in someone with Cayli’s spirit. She was too much like him. “He didn’t think they’d try to kill him tonight. Not until they've punished him first. But we need to know, one way or another. The signal from his wallet is still out there. I don’t know what we’ll find, Cay. Think before you decide.”

The road crunched up under the tyres as she turned the car around. Her thoughts flattened under the prospect that she might be dutifully tugging Jay’s sister straight into a trap, but doubt circled the paranoia. If anyone was waiting, it would’ve sprung when they’d first approached the car, not banked on them turning around. The power fired back through her veins, blocking out the bite of concern. Defiance rode in its place. There wasn’t room for anything else.

The car parked up. Natalie’s limbs felt like iron, but she didn’t pause, just glanced up as she got out, unsurprised to hear Cayli’s door open too. A halo marked her grip on the gift, determination carving a rigor of her young face beneath the dark of the hood. Braced. Heavy shadows loomed like a presence, and the chain-link creaked in the wind like ghosts crowded to watch such a morbid parade. The first spark of uncertainty lit a fire in Natalie’s chest, the fear of a loss she could not wholly explain. It didn’t slow her.

But there was no body. 

Relief dropped but never seemed to land. She bent to scoop up the cracked wallet, reminding herself that this had been the plan. Or the one she had suspected might brew a holy grail in the back of Jay’s mind -- the quickest route to a chance of cutting the head from the snake direct, risk damned. Her own wallet vibrated as she brushed the dust from the screen. Cayli’s hand patted her shoulder from above, and Natalie flinched hard, the shadows of something else breaking up her expression before her gaze settled on the object in Cay’s outstretched palm. The blood drained as she stood and plucked free the small dart. A memory skittered like the rustle of bones, of Nox’s plaintive fear of the needle, and the insistent command of the police to sedate him.

Cay’s small voice pierced. “What do we do now?”

Only Natalie still didn’t have an answer.

They drove. Circuitous in route, stung by the awareness that Axel, at least, knew Cayli was not tucked up safe in the James’ estate. He’d know the plates, but she couldn’t just ditch the car and strand them to another’s mercy. By now Cay dozed exhausted, curled up under a fire blanket that had been in the emergency kit, her hands wadded up in the hoodie bundled under her head. It was still hours before sunrise, those small and usually peaceful moments before first light. Back in Moscow it’d be late morning by now, perhaps early afternoon. Either way her own weariness fled beneath the weight of concern that Jay was potentially without the one armament he’d planned on having on his side, tucked direct in the heart of his enemy. Alone.

Surprisingly Alvis had ceded to a transaction. The number was ringing. Meanwhile, as darkness raced past the windows, Natalie considered her options before dawn; to return to the house and confide in Jensen; hope he might smooth any difficulties with Cay’s parents; deal face on with Axel’s loyalties. Or bypass the complications in favour of entirely different ones. It wouldn’t even be the first time she had essentially contemplated kidnap.

She eased back on the accelerator, aware she’d been speeding. Aware too of the gun tucked in her jacket, licensed to another, and of her passenger, a minor unrelated by blood. 

Frustration seethed.

Axel was truthful when he told the kid the car was the governor’s property. Not so much as a window lowered without the cloud registering the motions. Logs could be summoned with a swipe of a screen, and in the case of GPS, real-time tracking of movements as easy as opening an app.

Habitually, the flatness of his gaze skimmed the feeds of the house, but inevitably were drawn to the dot gliding along the interstate. Given his instrumental role in arranging the location of the meeting, he found an early stop to be surprising to say the least.

Curious, he changed from map to city mode as the vehicle paused at a truck lot. It was back on the road within a minute: not enough time to dash in and out. That meant one thing -- they found Cayli. He thought for sure the little shadow would hide the whole way there. How did they discover her? Well, it was something of a disappointment, but the bounty was explicit. He still knew where to find the girl, and Jay practically walked straight into the fire after dousing himself with gasoline.

The vehicle never returned to the truck stop, but neither did it seem to drive like a bat out of hell. Erratic speeds registered the log high then low. Not the habits of a steady soldier like Jay nor the flight of a close-call escape. Jay wasn’t driving. That left the British chick.

Axel leaned back in his seat, pondering whether or not to light a cigarette when a message came through.

Awake?

He glanced out, studying a dim light illuminating the rims of an upper window. A strange sense of conflict twisted his guts as a second message populated on the heels of the first.

Axel. I know you’re awake.

One last study of the map and he folded the information into his own wallet device, tucked it in the utility pocket of his pants, and snatched his coat. He was buttoning the jacket over the shoulder-holsters when he quietly entered the house.

The space was dim, but not dark. He never let the house fall into complete darkness despite the technology engulfing the grounds. The governor of Texas was a polarizing figure at the best of times, and before long, Jessika would find herself the enemy of one of the greatest powers in history: the united states itself.

While the US may be hamstrung compared to bygone eras, he appreciated the shitstorm to soon descend on them. Anywhere she went she would need to reside in a fortress: everyone would seek to assassinate her. As her head of personal detail, Axel was more than happy to be on a beach by then. Beaches required money; Filipino islands needed a new identity if he wanted to escape the cartel; he wanted a ticket out of this hellhole.

Which was exactly why he smothering the sickness knotting his insides with a slick grin when he opened that final door. Jessika was waiting. 

He leaned against the door, clicking the lock behind his back as she swept near, lips pressed eagerly to his.