Spilled drinks

[Natalie Grey]

They stepped out into darkness, and for a moment it disorientated her; like no time had passed at all, or far more than she'd suspected. Her heart sank under the weight of realisation; by now it was inevitable her mother had noted her absence, and after Sierra Leone it was hardly likely she'd take kindly to the silent treatment. Worst case scenario, she was already on a flight to Moscow to ensure Natalie upheld her familial responsibilities. She raked a hand back through her hair and glanced at Alvis, because apparently even her father was keeping tabs; but he stood stiffly, looking intently out into the darkness like something yanked hard at his attention.

Natalie's muscles tensed reflexively as Jay ushered them back, and suddenly everything ached anew. The short respite of the club had leaked all the adrenaline from her. For a moment Jay's warning made little sense. Why did he think Pavlo was out here? But then she picked up the faint cry of sirens and her tired mind reluctantly put the pieces together. She tested the edges of her control, but still wasn't sure if she'd be able to control the power without consequences; it fluttered so temptingly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to let it go. What happened if she didn't? Jay's face swam into view while she was still skirting around letting the light flood through her.

Stay. Here.

He meant it kindly, but the words twisted sharply. Her temper flared against the final bars being slammed into the shape of a cage. She'd been railing all her life against being tucked safely away, against being poked and prodded into the mould of the daughter her family wanted. Defiance closed her off to sense, and for a moment her strongest, most contrary instinct was to turn away, work out where the fuck she was, and just go home. Not that she even knew where she was. Bare feet. No phone. And Pavlo was her fight. The anger rushed a new channel, irrational and cold. She knew it was stupid. She didn't care.

Tires screeched ahead. Someone hooked her back by the elbow. It seemed Alvis wasn't one for orders either, because he still stood there, one hand thrust into the pocket of his coat, gaze mildly irritated. "If you have any sense, you'll let me take you home. They're soldiers, they'll be fine."


He didn't stop her, though.

It looked like the alley had been picked up and shaken by an infant god. Debris crunched sharp under her toes, glass glittering like ice in silvery patches she tried to avoid. Her gaze skimmed the destruction. Too much in too short a time. Pavlo had been running, spooked; he didn't do this. So who the fuck had? There was no movement, and Jay crouched over a body cradled by crumbled cement, checking vitals. "Stupid includes expecting me to stay behind. For the record."
The words were cool. She didn't make eye contact, just surveyed the damage instead, arms folded against the horrific details. The shards blew out from the crater; it only took a moment to hazard a guess why. "What on earth was he defending himself against?"
The words tailed off when she set eyes on the body pinned to the wall. Slumped still.

But. He was--

Alvis's boots crunched a path behind her. Careless of the further agony he might inflict, he yanked out the man's arm and pulled up his sleeve. She caught a glimpse of tattoos inking the skin before he threw it back down in disgust. One fist curled, he stalked towards Jay. "Check his damn arm. Does he have the snake tattoo too?"


[[Jared, if any of the above doesn't fit with what you have in mind for Jared's next post, let me know and I will adjust accordingly. ]]