Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Lanias flicked the shoulder of the shirt. It moved and shifted so that it bared her shoulders, tucking itself in. She sent Dmitri a glare, “Your father is lucky he’s immortal, or he’d be sitting pretty in a grave.”
With that, she turned and to display her power she used her magic to travel. As the world fell away, she heard the slide of metal escaping it’s sheath just as they landed. “Also, you should think twice about pulling weapons on me.”
She turned around to find Dmitri looking at her in surprise, his swords not in his hands but hers. She lifted them, “I can do pretty much what I want in my space.” She tossed them to his feet. “You should loosen up, not everything is meant as a threat.”
“I won’t allow you to speak ill of Father,” Dmitri angrily said.
“Ooh, so you’re a daddy’s boy,” she teased. “Aren’t you too old for that?”
Dmitri winced, his weapons disappearing into the cement, reappearing in his hands. “Don’t say it like that.”
She laughed. “Then stop acting like that.”
“I’m loyal to the Monarch,” he muttered, averting his gaze away from her.
“As he should be.”
Lanias turned around, her blade flinging from her hand.
Alek caught it just before it pierced his right eye.
“I should get some blood in exchange for this,” She motioned angrily to her shirt. “Who told you to change my clothes?” She heatedly demanded.
His eyes roamed all over her, a small smile gracing his lips. “It looks good on you.”
Eyes flashing, she crossed her arms. “Everything suits me, that’s not the point.”
“I know, it’s about control,” he said, approaching her.
Lanias noticed he’d changed clothes, he’d switched out the suit for a black turtleneck, grey felt coat and black slacks. Once again, she didn’t want to admit he cut a handsome figure. One thing she’d noticed when Tiller had brought his Jackals to the shade, was that all four of those crazy villains were handsome.
False advertisement in her opinion, especially when she knew their bloody past. “Control, you will learn is something I always have.”
“Yeah, right,” Lanias said, turning away from him. “Let’s get this over with.” She wasn’t fazed in the least that Dmitri was suddenly gone. Beings came and went with the wind, and the random Batman-like moments were the least shocking thing they did.
“Do you know how to meet this Roni person,” Alek asked as he walked beside her.
“Fabian said, I just need to bring this.” She lifted a coin; it was Grecian. “I just need to order a beer and pay with this and the Roni person would appear.”
“Do you think he’ll show up?”
“He has no choice; he’s probably been feeling antsy since Stanthos hasn’t reached out to him in so long.” Lanias wondered what the man would do in reaction to her news of Stanthos’ death. When she’d gone to Stanthos’ house it was clear that much time and planning had gone into the protection of half-blood children. “I’ll act as someone who’s come to inform him about Stanthos.”
“And what if he doesn’t take kindly to being told of his partner’s early demise?” Alek asked as they came to the top of the steps, a flashing light above the door read, “Cains”.
“You’ve got a lot of questions. It’s simple, we take him half-alive and torture him till we get answers,” Lanais said. “Now follow me, and play my big, bad bodyguard.”
He half-turned, leaned down, and kissed her where her shoulder met her neck. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shot him a dark look; irritation intermixed with something that pleased him.
When she stomped off, he leisurely followed along.
After a minor scufflewith the bodyguard, a Troll who’d thought he’d impress her with his heavy touch swiftly learned his lesson when his head had been shoved into the door by a smiling Alek.
Lanias finally entered the noisy and rowdy bar.
On the edge, was an understatement for this kind of place, but it served those not quite open in the Veil. The mixture ofBeings included those forgotten by lore and if she had to say something about them, at least they were lively. Some appeared to be openly eating human flesh. The way she came to this conclusion was seeing a skull rolled like a bowling ball in to a tower of empty beer bottles.
