18 months ago
Abe watched as Fay stalked the grounds she’d been confined to. In her hellhound form she crossed the yard in two minutes before stalking back the other way. Her long limbs, unlike the stocky build of a wolf, seemed more agile. He wondered how much faster than a wolf she was, how strong she might be. The possibility both intrigued and disturbed him. Then again, that feeling generally applied to Fay as a whole. Her youthful defiance was refreshing but it reminded him too much of…of her.
Behind him, the balcony doors opened and Amber swept out. She swept a pale hand over her fiery red hair, which had been tied back into a neat bun, then set her hands on the railing. Those dark exorcist eyes of hers swept down, lingered on Fay for a moment, then moved to him.
“How’s she doing?”
“We completed our first mission last month with success. The agency was pleased,” he said.
Amber nodded. “That’s early. I thought they would’ve given her more time to settle.”
“She had to prove herself,” added Abe. “She did.”
She turned to him, half resting on the railing. “You don’t sound happy about that. You know what would’ve happened to her, bond or not, if they willed it. There are some things even the great Abe can’t stop.”
His summoned tendrils of magic to his hand, dark eyes glowing. “You think I couldn’t stop them?”
Amber snorted, patting his cheek, like he was an errant child. Ignoring his blush, she turned away, looked down at Fay, watching her pace the yard. It had been solely the job of an exorcist to deal with poltergeists but Fay changed things. Hell, she changed a lot of things and few knew what to do with a moody hellhound. The realm of Hades and Zeus and all that had been treated like a distant problem, something that so long as it remained in its own realm, was just that. The problem of someone else. With Fay, the lines blurred.
Below, Fay trotted to beneath the balcony and, a moment later, she walked out wearing her uniform. She glanced up at Abe, eyes narrowed, then she stalked inside.
“She hasn’t been allowed out since the mission, has she?” Amber inquired, grimacing.
“The council doesn’t want to risk an incident,” he said mechanically.
Amber pushed away from the railing. “Well, they’re gonna have one if they keep her here. I’ll chat to them. They’ll listen to me.”
Before he had a chance to argue, she was gone.
Per her daily schedule Fay kept up violin practice for an hour in the morning, sparred with Abe until lunch, ate, then attended her private tutoring. She had time to herself for thirty minutes prior to violin and two hours at the end of the day, after dinner and her room had been cleaned. The routine was to give her life order, purpose. At least, that had been the council’s argument. That she’d be too busy to go outside. Amber was right, though. Abe had been pushing since the mission to get her more freedom but every attempt was rebuffed. He’d considered going to Amber anyway. Her influence was well-known and people respected her opinion as a kind of law unto itself.
He stopped by Fay’s room in her evening personal time and knocked on the door. After a beat it hummed open and Fay stood there, dressed in cotton pants and a grey t-shirt, barefoot. She looked at him irritably but that had been her standard expression since the mission; a mixture of restlessness and bitterness at being denied freedom.
“A mission?”
“No but I was hoping we could talk,” he said, feeling a little nervous.
Something about her made him nervous, which was silly given he was a couple thousand years old and the last girl whom had made him nervous was…well, she was…like no one else. That is, until Fay, whom had the same terrifying fire in her eyes at time, like she’d take on the world if she had to.
She shifted on her feet, then nodded. “Fine. Not like I’m doing anything, anyway.”
They took the lift down to the cafeteria, followed a long hallway out to the gardens that butted the university. All walled in, so Fay was allowed out but she hated going there. It was like a cruel joke to her, she told him once. She walked ahead of him out into the patch of grass and looked up at the night sky, hazy with city smog, dotted by only a few sporadic satellites or stars bright enough to burn through. Under that nightly glow he saw, just for a split second, someone else standing in Fay’s place. Her. He blinked. Fay stood there, looking at him, frowning.
“So?”
“Amber is speaking to the council. She’s convinced she’ll get you freedom,” he said, waiting a beat before he continued on. “She’s very influential and no one likes saying no to her. I think they’re a little afraid of her, to be honest.”
Fay looked away, wrapped her arms around her slender waist. “They’re more scared of me, though. Let’s be honest about that.”
“Maybe but they can’t keep you here permanently.”
“Because I might go crazy and kill people?” She offered with a wane smile.
Sixteen and already convinced the world was set against her. Even her words…It was more a question of when, not if, she lost control. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“I’ll make sure that never happens,” he vowed.
She gave him a look that damn near brought him to his knees. A silent awareness that he’d command her and she’d be helpless to stop it. That, or he’d kill her. It’d be the same in the end. If he dared to command her, to get her to yield like an alpha would his pack, she’d fight him with every inch of breath she had – and lose. Then, her mind would crack. If, by some chance, she did beat the command, he’d have to kill her. He couldn’t decide which was worse.
“So, I’m to be free, according to you,” she said. “It’s just a longer leash in the end.”
“You know it has to be this way – it’s either this or-“
“I’m very aware of whom my master would be, if not you,” she snapped, then the anger fled her eyes. “I’m sorry for biting. That was mean of me.”
He moved towards her but didn’t hug her, didn’t reach out. They were partners and she…she was still a kid.
“I feel his presence at night, you know? Taunting me. He’s just waiting for the day I’m his,” she confessed, then burst into laughter – cold, brittle, like porcelain. “Gods, Hades wants my soul. That has to be the oldest joke in the book, a real cliché!”
She tipped her scornful eyes to the sky, defiant. There it was again. That look in his eyes, the one he’d seen before, the very look that had brought fear in Olympus. He was afraid that, one day, she’d become just like her…and then he’d have to stop her. There was no way he could risk a repeat of what happened – and what nearly followed after.
He almost told her that, the story of her, the one before. At the last second, he stopped. It was a story steeped in tragedy and betrayal that, in the end, had culminated in death…and a fate worse than it.
“I’m going to request another mission,” he announced, feeling stupid for saying it.
When her gaze lowered to his she nodded absently, like her mind was already wondering somewhere else. In those moments he wanted to ask where but didn’t. Out of every freedom she’d lost he let her have her secrets. What else did she have anymore?
ns 15.158.61.7da2
