[ 07 ]

NARCISSA SHIFTED on the bed, counting the rounds of ammunition as they came, the remaining bullets snug in their bandolier. Her fingers curled over the material lovingly, nails scraping against the rough fabric. Whether they were in the mood for a public shootout or not, she didn't care. She would be the one to bring a gun to a knife fight, regardless of what Lysandra and Finn thought. They were dumb, the two of them.

Finn was too naive, and Lysandra was too crazy. It wasn't a good combination, and had never been, not in Narcissa's books. Dumb bred dumb, she thought, notwithstanding what the dumb people in question believed.

They could think what they wanted to, but it would always be the same, and Narcissa would be the one in the right all along. A fresh, icy wave of spite rippled through her like the harbour's murky water, lapping at her feet, full of grey and grit and grime.

It was because they didn't need the guns, didn't need the knives. They didn't have to worry about having enough ammo, or whether their blades were sharp enough or out of view. Weapons were not of use to them, because they were the weapons, and didn't need anything more.

"Narcissa Regina Corvus," a voice called, faraway and almost sounding dazed.

Snapping her head towards the source of the noise, she reloaded her gun in a quick movement, sliding it back into her holster.

"What?"

"Come here." She followed Lysandra's voice, finding her to be sprawled out on her own bed, feet dangling off the edge and braids fanned out on the blanket around her. Her amethyst eyes glazed over as she stared up at the ceiling lights, hands mindlessly clenching into fists over and over again.

"Sabretooth or Cupid's Arrow?" Lysandra stroked the two monstrous daggers  that lay next to her. One was lined with gold, tresses of it veiny on the blade, glowing in the light that filtered through the blind, the other cruelly curved and nearly pitch-black, lined with little teeth.

Narcissa snatched them up, weighing them, each in one hand. "Don't tell me you're back with the arms dealers. You aren't on the black market, eh?"

Giving her an auspicious look, Lysandra sat up abruptly, chewing her lip in thought.

"Not that I recall, no. But that might just be me, you know. They like me more than you, sometimes, Ciss. Remember Sal? He told me that he likes me more than you. But you wouldn't like that, no, I told him. He gave me a beating, Sal did, for that. He don't like it when you talk too much, him."

Narcissa gritted her teeth, taking Lysandra by the chin. Bruises that she hadn't noticed before lined the girl's collarbone, and she grimaced, wanting to look away. Swiftly, she let go, focusing her attention back on the daggers.

"Well, then. I'll have a chat with Big Sal when all of this is done, won't I?" A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, slowly spreading over her entire face as she turned away to hide it.

She'd really thought she'd had a thing going with Sal, but apparently not. It stung a bit, it really did. After everything was over, she would need to find a new dealer for her weapons, unless Crux could provide that.

God knew what sort of tech they were hiding in those labs of theirs. Four years must've certainly changed a lot, especially in an organisation as money-laiden and influential as Crux.

Thirteen years ago, they'd had enough advancement to grant kids that were little more than toddlers superpowers that hadn't been seen in society for two decades. Now? They could probably charge a baby with enough energy to kill the whole city, maybe even the state.

"Guess you will," Lysandra said, looking at the daggers with a look of pure adoration. "We should get going, shouldn't we? I'd rather have a fight at sunset than in the pitch black."

"Never in broad daylight, huh?"

She shook her head. "Nope. That's just dumb, ain't it?"

"We don't fight in the afternoon. Semper P.D. is bad, but even it's not that bad. Crux and the P.D. together, that's just a lot of effort that could be avoided. Anyway, good to sleep in."

"I liked the motel," Lysandra retorted, but Narcissa released a low whistle, stroking the dagger that Lysandra had called Sabretooth.

"I like this dagger. Don't mean I keep it, huh?" With that, she tossed it onto the bed, dusting her hands off on her trousers.

"Whatever you say, Cap'n. Just remember that I'll be actively ignoring you most the time, Ciss."

"I'm gonna pretend I ain't hearing nothing. I don't care what you say, do I?"

Lysandra shook her head. "No, you don't. Part of what makes you the alpha, huh?"

"Nah. I'm not an alpha. Don't need a pack - I'm fine on my own."

Shrugging, Lysandra raised a slim card in the air. "Let's go, then."

Narcissa slammed her fist on the wall to their left, which bordered Finn's room. A moment later, she heard his door click, followed by a knock on her own.

She sighed. "Dumbass."

Cocking her gun, she opened the door with one hand, the other out of view as it clasped the pistol. A weedy-looking man smiled up at her, wearing a stupid little bellboy hat.

"Room service."

"I'm good, thanks."

"Room service." With a flick of his wrist, a knife appeared in his palm, and he pinned Narcissa against the wall, pressing the blade against her throat. She bit back a laugh as no blood drew.

"You forgot, Agent Bareau. Don't forget. Forgetting is what idiots like you do. It gets you killed."

Easily deflecting his arm, she forced the blade against the Agent's throat, watching his Adam's Apple tremble. He wrenched his arm out of her grip, but not before she'd seized the knife and driven it into his neck.

As he went down, he made a little retching noise that made her want to throw up.

She stepped out into the corridor as Lysandra edged behind her, crouching by the corpse and withdrawing a card from the inside of his waistcoat.

"Agent Roger Bareau. Low-ranking. How d'you know him?" she asked curiously, lifting the ID up to the light.

"I keep records."

"Fair enough." Lysandra pocketed the card, burying it deep in her khaki bomber jacket. The two incredibly ornate daggers were in her hands, her teeth bared as they stepped out into the corridor, back to back.

There weren't many agents, five or six at most, armed with machine guns, smaller ones probably hidden everywhere else, out of view for now. Three raced towards her from the lift, another trio behind her, taking the stairs.

A woman creaked open her door, staring in disbelief at the sight before her. One of the Agents forced his lips into a grin, evidently trying to reassure her.

Narcissa stifled her own smirk, cocking her gun and firing it squarely in the chest of one Agent. His pupils dilated, but he remained standing, the bullet ripping through his clothes but deflecting off the vest underneath. He hadn't meant to, but they all realised simultaneously that he'd gotten all of them killed by surviving.

"Aim for the head!" she told Lysandra, who slithered between the legs of an Agent, stabbing her in the small of her back. The woman thrashed horrendously in pain as she went down, blood staining the hotel's beige carpet.

"I said head!" Narcissa called irritably, cutting off as a beefy arm pulled her into a headlock.

You don't learn, do you?"

Elbowing her attacker in the groin, she used her other hand to scrape at their eyes, hiding her grim satisfaction as the man screamed in pain. She then hauled him onto her back, throwing him against the wall with so much force that the brick turned to rubble, revealing the woman that had opened her door before, now sitting on her her. Her mouth made a perfect "o" of shock, making Narcissa want to laugh.

But she didn't, instead charging through the room and throwing the Agent out of the window. Glass poured everywhere, the shattering sound so loud that she flinched as she watched him hit the ground. If he survived, then he did. If he didn't, then tough for him. Holding back a snort, Narcissa bit her lip. Her eyebrows were raised at the terrified woman, whose small frame was trembling like a drowned rat.

Narcissa would've felt sorry for her, had she not been an obvious snitch. To the Semper City PD, if not Crux itself. After all, Narcissa had made sure to secure all the rooms on the entire floor, so that no-one could pose a threat - the hotel staff thought that it was a trip to Semper by college kids from Louisiana. The other guests had their flight cancelled, she'd told them, but they'd be there tomorrow, no worries.

"Don't-don't shoot me..." the woman mumbled, letting out a hiccupy sob as her red-rimmed eyes shut.

"You know that I won't," Narcissa snapped, forcing the bolted window open with a push. The snitch gaped at her, before falling to her weak knees, her lips resting on Narcissa's shoes.

"It's true. Crux - they succeeded," she said in disbelief. Narcissa stifled a gag as the woman's cracked lips traced over the toe of her boot. Even from afar, one could've easily seen the layer of mud embedded in the shoes.

"Don't bow to me. I ain't no god, babe. Dunno why you keep making me out to be one, when you were ready to kill me. Funny, ain't it? Loyalties shift." With that, she kicked the snitch away from her, clenching her fists.

"Who d'you work for?"

She'd broken the woman's nose and blood was pouring everywhere, staining the blue carpet a murky dark brown.

"Who do you think?" the woman's nonchalant attitude faded, replaced by a snarl, voice thickened by the blood all over her face.

"What does Crux want now?"

She shook her head, a grin spreading over her face. "Oh no, not Crux. I report to an authority higher than that."

Narcissa picked up the woman with one hand. In one clean, fluid motion, she snapped her neck, the sound making her cringe. For a moment, the snitch's lips moved, her voice a strangled croak.

"There were always four."

A shiver went down Narcissa's spine, and she tugged her jacket closer to her body, hands digging in her pockets.

The hell's that supposed to mean?

She needed to find Finn and Lysandra.

Now.

[~]

They were by the back door, having abandoned their rooms. Narcissa wanted them all to share, providing maximum security, as feeble as that maximum would be, but Lysandra had stubbornly insisted so many times that Narcissa given up on trying to knock some sense into her.

Besides, Finn seemed to enjoy his solitude.

She had to admit, it was certainly easier to cope with just one annoying ally than two. Lysandra  had been right about a single thing, for once. Morally questionable and definitely mentally unstable though she was, Pandora was a good asset to have around. Narcissa wondered whether Finn would be the same, whether he would prove himself. Perhaps Crux had taught him that he didn't need to prove himself, she didn't know.

The last four years of training must've been bad ones to suffice all of their heroes running away, she scoffed, wiping the blood from her hands with the sleeve of her top.

"How many were there?" Lysandra questioned, evidently dishevelled.

"I don't know. Got rid of two, though. One Crux-"

"Wait. Are you telling us that there's someone, or something, other than Crux targeting us?" Finn leaned forward, expression darkening.

"Kinda. She said she was reporting to a higher authority. What's higher that Crux?" Narcissa asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Crux is at the top. Who knew a vigilante organisation would've ended up with so much power, huh? Anyway, you're the one who would know the most out of us. Cause, you know, I'm so sheltered."

Finn slid the lock of the door open, revealing a dimly-lit alley with dumpsters everywhere.

"You're not helping, Finneas," Lysandra called in a sing-song voice, the light from the street lamps making her eyes look even stranger.

"You haven't offered your expert opinion, either, so shush," he retorted, both of them sounding so childish that Narcissa had to hold back a laugh.

The sound of a throat being cleared alerted them, and they turned around to see a girl in a pink blouse, black hair the same colour as the violin case strung across her back. A huge cat twisted around her ankles, its glassy green eyes catching the light in the same way that Lysandra's did.

Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief as hers and Ayana's eyes met.

"Finally. You brought him, too." She eyed the cat, resisting the urge to kick his stupid face. "Finneas, also known as Midas. Ayana Nakamura."

Finn's white teeth glinted. "No superhero name?"

Ayana scowled. "No." She readjusted her violin case. Narcissa bit her lip, remembering its contents.

"I've come to assist you."

[ end ]