AN: So this is something a little different. I had a lot of fun with this. Oh, and to be clear, there are no spoilers in this. Anyway, as always, let me know what you think!
"So how's Russia?"
Sydney sighed as she drew the curtains in her hotel room closed, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder.
"It's Russia, Carly. Better than a lot of places, but—"
"Not Rome, I know. Don't worry, I'll take you some day." Sydney laughed, throwing herself onto the bed.
"Yeah, as soon as you finish paying off your student loans."
"On second thought maybe I'll just keep my fingers crossed that you get assigned there." Sydney laughed. Where she was responsible and meticulous, Carly had always been a little wilder, a little more impulsive. It was why their father had passed her over for family Alchemist, deciding Sydney was more suited to it. And she was, that was for sure—she just would rather be studying Roman architecture.
"But Russia has cool buildings, right? Isn't that where they have those buildings that look like candy?"
"It is. Their architecture is really something; that's the best part of being here." Sydney lay back on the bed, settling into her pillows. Carly laughed.
"Only you, Sydney. But I'm glad there's something you like there. Do you know when you get to come home?"
"I'll let you know as soon as I do."
"Good," Carly said firmly. "Anyway, I have class in a few minutes, and I know it's pretty late there, so I think I'd better go."
"Are you going to be okay?" Sydney asked. Carly had originally called in the middle of a panic attack, a fortunately rare but terrifying reminder of her rape almost two years previously. Sydney had helped talk her through it, and only after that had the conversation wandered to Sydney's mission in Russia.
"I'm fine. Thanks."
"Alright then, I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah. Take care of yourself. I love you."
"Love you too." The line went dead, and Sydney set the phone on the bed next to her, leaning back and closing her eyes.
It made her angry. Carly had begged Sydney not to tell their parents about the rape, and Sydney had agreed, but it always lingered in the back of her mind that he was getting away with it.
His father was friends with Carly and Sydney's and that was how he'd come to stay with them that summer. Their father loved Keith; in his eyes, Keith could do no wrong just as Sydney felt she could do nothing right. She'd always thought her father would have preferred a son—maybe if he'd had one, he would have treated his daughters better.
Carly had not had much choice when Keith asked her out, and feared that she would be the one blamed if she told their dad what he had done on their date. She was probably right.
But it meant that Keith got away with it, that he suffered no consequences while Carly would have to carry it with her for the rest of her life. And that made Sydney angrier than she could possibly articulate.
Suddenly the phone vibrated on the bed next to her. She glanced at it—it was a Russian phone number that she didn't recognize, which meant Alchemist business. She sighed. So much for sleep.
"Sydney Sage," she answered. She'd learned not to say any more than that until she knew what language the caller would speak.
"Sydney Sage," came a man's voice on the other line. "Is that American?" Startled, Sydney paused.
"It is," she said slowly. "May I help you, sir?"
"You're the new Alchemist?" His voice was slightly accented, but not Russian. A Middle Eastern dialect, Sydney thought.
"I am. What do you need?"
"Oh, nothing. I simply have a Strigoi body lying here that I thought you might want to come take care of." Sydney sighed and pushed herself off the bed, starting to take off her pajamas.
"I'm on my way. Can you tell me where you are?"
Sydney approached the tiny shop, behind which, according to her tipster, there was a Strigoi body waiting to be disposed of.
Sure enough, as she rounded the corner the body of an extremely pale young woman came into view, lying limply on the concrete.
The sight still gave her chills, but she was more than used to it by now. Pushing down the urge to vomit, she knelt next to the body, opening her bag and digging through, struggling to read the labels on the bottles in the dim light.
"Sydney Sage?" Sydney whirled around.
There was a Moroi man standing there, looking only mildly interested in her. His skin was dark, and he had thick black hair, along with a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a tastefully expensive suit and a bright green scarf around his neck.
Sydney had met Moroi before, but only a very few. She worked to keep her breathing steady as she stood and met his eyes. There was no reason to let him know she was scared of him.
"Yes," she said. "Are you the one who called?" Usually guardians were the ones who called these things in; they often killed them, and as she understood it a lot of Moroi didn't even know that Alchemists existed.
"I am. My guardian and I were attacked." He gestured to a dhampir lurking unobtrusively behind him. Sydney hadn't noticed him.
"I see," she said calmly. "Thank you for calling, Mr…" She trailed off, realizing she hadn't ever gotten the man's name.
"Mazur," he said cheerfully. He held out a hand to shake, and Sydney reluctantly took it. "Abe Mazur."
Sydney knew that name, and suddenly was even more on her guard.
"Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Mazur," she said, resisting the urge to wipe her hand on her pants. He was known around here as Zmey, and from what she'd heard, he'd certainly earned the nickname. No one was quite sure exactly what he did except that it was very illegal. He dealt in threats and blackmail and bribery.
The last thing she needed was to get mixed up with him in any way.
He smiled as he watched her grow more and more uncomfortable. Finally, Sydney turned her back on him and went back to the body, where she pulled out a tiny vial, unscrewed the cap, and poured it on the body. Without pausing to watch the body dissolve, she turned back to Mazur.
"It was nice to meet you," she said shortly. Infuriatingly, he only seemed more amused.
"A pleasure, Sydney Sage."
It was the next day that the idea came to her. It started as a little tickle, just a fantasy that she refused to even allow to enter her consciousness.
But it wiggled and nagged for the rest of the day, and the more she imagined it, the harder it was to let the thought go.
It was ridiculous, of course. Stupid. Maybe even against God's will, if it involved any kind of deal with a Moroi.
But whether Carly would allow her to report the rape or not, Keith Darnell needed to pay.
And as much as she tried to banish the thought from her mind, she now had the phone number of the king of deals and threats and bribery.
She had to wait until dark to call him, because although she was still on a human's schedule—admittedly with a lot of late nights—he was certainly on an unholy nocturnal schedule.
He answered the phone in Russian, and though she was fluent, she opted for English, if only because she knew he spoke it perfectly.
"This is Sydney Sage," she said, trying to still her trembling hands. There was silence for a moment.
"The Alchemist?" he asked.
"Yes, we met last night." Another long pause.
"I see. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Sydney took a deep breath, willing her voice not to shake.
"I'd like to meet with you tonight."
"May I ask what about?"
"I think you can help me with something."
There was no small talk, and Sydney ordered nothing but coffee, earning a raised eyebrow from Mazur. As soon as she sat down, she got to business.
"There's someone I know," she began, wondering what was the least possible amount of information she could reveal. "And I'd like… well, I know that one of the things you can do is ensure that… accidents befall, well, certain people."
That got her a smirk.
"What's the matter, Ms. Sage? Is someone going to beat you out for valedictorian?" Sydney rolled her eyes and shook her head. That didn't even merit a response. She barreled onward as if he hadn't said anything.
"There's a man who… well, he hurt someone I care about. And he's going to get away with it."
Mazur rubbed his thumb on his chin thoughtfully before answering.
"The truth, Ms. Sage, is that I do not care at all who this person is or why you have a grudge against him." He leaned toward her and met her eyes. "What I care about is my payment."
"I have money," she said quickly. "However much you want, I can get it."
He shook his head. "No use for that, got plenty already."
"Then what do you need?" Sydney asked warily. He leaned forward even further, as close as he could get to her with the table between them. Sydney shifted back, away from him.
"Friends in high places," he whispered.
"I'm sorry?"
"What I need is an Alchemist who owes me a favor. Is that going to be you?" He quirked an eyebrow, questioning.
This was stupid. She should just walk away right now. This wasn't her. She was making a deal with the devil.
But if Keith would get what was coming to him, maybe it would be worth it.
"That can be me," she said softly. Mazur smiled.
"Excellent," he said, clapping his hands together. "Now, who's having an accident and what is happening to him? Shall we kill him?"
She hated that for a moment she actually considered it.
"No," she finally answered. "His name is Keith Darnell, he's an Alchemist. I think he's stationed somewhere in California, but I don't know exactly where."
"That's enough for me to find him," he said confidently. "So you don't want him dead—just injured? Put him in the hospital for a while?"
"No," Sydney said again. "Well, yes, but I want something more permanent. Whatever it is," she said, leaning in toward Mazur, "I want for him to have to live with it every day for the rest of his life. An eye for an eye, you know?"
Mazur raised an eyebrow at that.
"Would you like me to take that literally?"
She hadn't considered that. It was brutal. It was grotesque. She couldn't believe she was even entertaining the notion.
But she couldn't honestly say that he didn't deserve it.
Slowly, she nodded.
"Yes," she said, gripping her coffee tightly to keep her fingers from trembling. "I would like you take that literally."
He nodded.
"To be clear, this is our deal: I will arrange an accident for one Keith Darnell in which he loses an eye, in exchange for a favor from you at some point in future." Sydney nodded, feeling sick to her stomach. What on earth had she just done?
"Excellent," he said, clapping his hands together again. "Then I will get on this accident-arranging immediately, but first, I need to collect my first favor from you."
"First?" Sydney exclaimed. "That's not what we—"
"It's small," he said, waving a dismissive hand. He pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons on it before handing it to Sydney, who took it hesitantly. On the screen was a picture of a beautiful girl who Sydney recognized as a dhampir. Tan skin, hair dark like Mazur's, and a playful, flirty smile.
"I'm looking for this person," he explained. "I don't have any idea where she is now or where she's going, but I'm putting the word out to all of my contacts: if you happen to find her wandering around Russia—"
"Call you. Got it." She couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the girl if he found her. Surely nothing good.
"Her name is Rose Hathaway." Sydney nodded her understanding. "I'll let you know when I have anything else for you to do. Within a week or two you'll be hearing of poor Keith Darnell's accident."
"Thank you," she said politely, setting down her coffee. Abe Mazur looked at her for a disconcerting moment before smirking.
"Sydney Sage," he said seriously, though his eyes were smiling in a way that sent chills down her back. "You are more dangerous than you look."