~ 1 : Reunited ~
Flying through the air, the tomb raider just barely managed to grab hold of the ledge, knocking the air out of her lungs as her body collided with the high crate. Fingers aching tightly, she pulled herself up onto the platform, inhaled deeply, and took off at a sprint to make her next jump. This was the third time in a row she went through her outdoor assault course this morning and despite her impression to the contrary, she was actually gaining each time. She was well above her record time and she knew, logically, that she needed to rest, but her determination urged her to try again and again. All it served was for her to get more frustrated and slower each time, making novice mistakes. Like almost missing that easy jump.
As she fell again, catching the lattice work of rope along the large box and splashing the water underneath with her boots, she heard a peculiar noise. It reminded her of something, something that brought a nostalgic feeling...but she couldn't place it. She let go and dropped into the small pool and looked about, but saw nothing.
Just then the noise got louder. It was a whirring, a low hum, or perhaps a vibration; and just as the memory associated with that particular sound started to register, she saw it. The five-bladed circular disc flew at her, neck-height, and she ducked and rolled, bringing herself back up to a stand as the disc arced back around. She watched it with fascination, having not seen it move an inch since that moment in the Strahov, when she swore it tried to lead her to its owner.
Lara followed its path until it nestled into to the waiting hand of none other than Kurtis Trent, standing a few yards from her. He attached the weapon to his belt hook at his hip and casually strolled over, his face impassive.
He looked the same as she remembered. Same clothes – boots, olive drab pants, black shirt over white long sleeve shirt, belt, shoulder holster – with the exception of his shirt, which was a different one. Still black, but the motif was from some metal band with which Lara was only vaguely familiar. Everything else was the same, including his cockiness, its presence evident by the way he carried himself. As he neared, his expression turned more playful; his eyes narrowing just a little bit, his head lolling to the side. Several times she thought to say something, to greet him perhaps, but the awkwardness of seeing him here, in her backyard, as though he wasn't a ghost, was too much for her. Because that's what she assumed had become of him. He was supposed to be dead.
He stopped short of her about a foot – far too close in most social settings – and his eyes roamed down her body nonchalantly, not even trying to be discreet. It made her feel self-conscious, which was a hard feat to accomplish. She was used to men ogling her. It was to be expected with the way she looked and dressed. But it coming from him was somehow different. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her cleavage, instead placing her hands on her hips and quirking an eyebrow at him. Let him look, she thought, cuz he'll never get to touch. She ignored the nagging voice that reminded her he had already felt her up once, and the only thing she did to get even was grope him in return.
His blue eyes returned to hers and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Before she fully realized what was happening, he suddenly jumped up and began climbing the rope up the crate, wasting no time. Only when he hauled himself up top, looked down at her, and flashed her a wink, did it settle in her mind that he was racing.
Without sparing another second she began ascending the crates, chasing after him with all her might. For the first time that morning she was able to make all the jumps without error. When she got to the swimming section she was able to overtake Kurtis, for he had chosen to take the above route that avoided the water. By the time she made it to the zip-line she was in the lead, though not by far, and it was she who was the first to cross the finish line. Unfortunately she hadn't timed herself on that run, but if she were to guess, she'd say it was the best of the day.
Panting and wringing the water from her braid, she glanced back at him. His face was flush, a small sheen of sweat spotted along his hairline. She turned her back to him, kicked off her boots, and then proceeded to peel her sopping wet gym pants from her legs, leaving her only in her cropped sports bra and boyshorts. Feeling bold, she looked back at him to gauge his reaction, then fearlessly strolled away, entering the mansion through the front door. As she walked through the door to her bedroom she spotted him across the hall, going into the library. Their eyes locked for a moment, and whatever reaction she'd hoped she'd elicit from him, she was disappointed.
After a quick rinse in the shower, Lara headed to the library in fresh lounge wear and with her hair wrapped in a towel. Kurtis was sitting at the desk there, reading a thick dusty book.
"Didn't take you for the bookish type." she said quietly as she padded by barefoot.
"I'm not just a pretty face." Kurtis retorted. Ah, she remembered, he has a sense of humor.
"What are you reading?" she asked as she sat on the chaise opposite him. Evidently not finding it appealing, he slammed it shut and tossed it on the desk carelessly. It landed with a loud thump.
"Nothing, I guess. Your selection of Cabal material is really lacking."
"I believe it's non-existent, actually. I wasn't aware of the Cabal until a few months ago."
"No one is. No one who's not already involved in the Shadow War, at least." The Shadow War; she had heard that term before. She intended to question him about it, but as her life wasn't in immediate danger anymore it all seemed inconsequential at the moment. She made a mental note to ask him later. Right now she wanted to know what had happened to Kurtis; where he disappeared off to.
Unwrapping her head, she began to towel her hair dry and watch Kurtis. He wasn't looking at her, but rather was taking in her library. She imagined he thought it was exorbitant, he just seemed the type to like simple things, but truth be told she knew very little about the man; not even his last name.
It was her that broke the silence first. "What happened to you?"
"With that mutant?" he responded, finally looking at her again. "I thought I had finished her, but turns out she wanted seconds. She got me from behind but I got her head." he said as he unclasped his disc and waved it at her.
"Got you from behind?" she questioned.
He stood up then, and lifted his shirt up so Lara could see an oval shaped scar in the middle of his stomach. It was about the size of a lime and still raw pink. Lara examined it curiously, wondering why he was showing her something that was obviously an old wound. When she was about to ask what the meaning of it was, Kurtis turned around then to show another, larger copy of the scar on his back, the same rough pink color. This one appeared fresher, somehow. She inadvertently sucked in a breath at the sight of it and her hand went to her waist, as if she could feel it as well.
"That's the same wound!?" she asked him incredulously.
"Bitch had a stinger. Like I said, got me from behind." he said nonchalantly.
"It goes straight through you! That was only months ago, how is it you ran my assault course without spilling your intestines everywhere?"
Kurtis shrugged and dropped the hem of his shirt, turning to face her. "Guess I'm better than you thought?"
Crossing her arms to show she was meant business, Lara leveled him with a stern gaze. "Seriously, Kurtis, explain yourself."
He hedged as he sat back down. "It's... weird."
"Stranger than your flying disc? Than you blasting away doors with your hands in the Louvre, or somehow launching me up into the air 15 feet by yourself?"
He shook his head. "No, probably on the same level. After I got stabbed, I dragged myself somewhere to recover."
"I searched for you at all the hospitals in the area. Where did you go?"
A mirthful smile crept across his face. "I'm touched. But I didn't go to a hospital. I holed up in a dump and slept it off. Now I'm all better." he said, stretching his hand out before him, as if explaining a perfectly ordinary thing. He leaned back in the chair, balancing it on its hind legs, and propped his boots on the desk. Lara frowned at this.
"I take it you used some of your... magic to speed the process along? All that blood on the floor..." she trailed off, remembering the big puddle, and his bladed disc humming in her hands, urging her forward.
"It's not 'magic'," he said dismissively, "but yeah. I was basically in a coma for a couple months as my body repaired itself."
"And now you're all better." Lara said skeptically.
"Now I'm all better" he copied.
"So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company then? I take it you're not here on a social visit."
"You're right. I came to get my Chirugai back." he said, tapping the side of his bladed disc which was hanging from his belt again.
"And now you have," she said, feeling a wave of unexplained disappointment. So he was just here for his weapon, nothing else. Why did that bother her? She brushed aside the feelings and told herself to just be grateful she at least learned what happened to him, versus wondering for the rest of her life whether he had died or not.
Kurtis continued, acting like he didn't notice her change of tone. "Those Periapt Shards would be great too. They are an ancient weapon of the Lux Veritatis. I can't just leave them with any old grave robber, you know." he added, tongue-in-cheek. He must have done his homework on me, she thought. Though it wouldn't have been hard to find the most basic information about her on the internet, as she was well-known in explorer/adventurer circles, it still made her feel...something, imagining him typing her name in an internet search bar with intent to learn more about her.
"I resent that title." she said stiffly. "Anyway, I don't have them. They went AWOL at the Strahov" she said, mimicking Kurtis' words from the airlock at the Strahov.
"What?" he said, letting the chair legs snap back to the floor as he sat up straight. "Tell me you aren't serious!"
Feeling defensive, she stood and paced away from him. How dare he raise his voice at me! "Well, I didn't do it to spite you!"
"Lara, I need them! What happened to them?"
She turned slowly, realizing she hadn't yet told Kurtis what all transpired after Eckhardt's lab, with Karel and the Sleeper. With a sigh, she started to make her way for the door. "Come on then, I'll have Winston put the kettle on whilst we discuss this."
Kurtis stood and followed her. "Who's Winston?"
"My butler."
"You have a butler?"
Lara and Kurtis went down to the kitchen and sat at the breakfast table, where Winston served them tea and shuffled about until Lara dismissed him, wishing for some privacy. It wasn't as though the butler wasn't aware of the dangers of his employer's former occupation, but in this case the situation involved another who might not see it that way. Once alone, Lara told Kurtis everything that had transpired since she left him to fight Boaz: how she almost killed Eckhardt until Karel stopped her and did it in her stead, then revealed himself as a Nephilim and asked her to join him. How he showed he could shift his form, how she figured out he was likely responsible for at least some of the Monstrum murders, and how she used the Sanglyph to destroy the Sleeper which caused an explosion, forcing her to abandon the arena.
"So you left the Periapt Shards in Eckhardt's body. Christ, they're probably long gone by now..." Kurtis said wearily and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Excuse me? I was a bit busy at the time. If you hadn't so nobly decided to stay behind and fight Boaz, you might have got them back yourself." she defended herself.
"Yeah, well, sorry for saving your skin. Next time I won't bother." he snapped back. He stood up, the chairs legs scraping against the linoleum harshly, and he walked to the kitchen counter. He leaned against it and began rummaging through his pockets. Lara noticed he barely touched his tea, poor thing drowned in milk. Americans, she sighed to herself.
Pulling a cigarette pack and lighter out, Kurtis addressed her. "So I suppose there's no hope you somehow managed to stab Karel with the Shards before blowing up the place?" He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it.
"No... and not in the house, dear." she replied sarcastically, indicating the smoke trailing from his fag. Kurtis walked out the back door to the right of him, and Lara followed close behind. Inhaling deeply on the butt, he released a cloud of smoke and Lara had to turn away to keep from coughing. What a nasty habit, she thought. It's a shame because he would be rather attractive without it.
"The only way to kill a Nephilim is by stabbing them with all three Shards." Kurtis said after another puff.
Lara turned to him sharply. "But I destroyed the Sleeper with the Sanglyph. The Sleeper is a Nephilim, no?"
"Sleeping Nephilim. Their powers are dormant, that's why you were able to destroy it without the Shards. But Karel is awake and active. That's why the Cabal wanted to revive them so badly: they'd be pretty much invincible once awake."
Lara closed her eyes. "So Karel's not dead." Dread settled deep in the pit of her stomach. She took a breath, then another, and counted to five in her head. She had read about the technique in some psychobabble book about coping with post-traumatic stress that Father Dunstan had left her, which after a quick skim-through soon took its permanent residence in the rubbish bin. The technique was supposedto relax her, bring her mind to focus, but it didn't help at all. Likewise the amulet that usually hung around her neck was silent and cold. When would this be over? She wondered, When will I finally be free of this? Even from the grave Werner continued to ruin her life.
"How much time do we have?" She asked and looked at him. He stared off into the distance, looking every bit his age. When she first saw him in the Louvre she initially thought he was much younger. His playful expression and cocky smile, combined with how he sprinted through the place like it was a game of tag had given her an impression of youthfulness. Now looking at him this closely, she could see the crows feet beginning to deepen at the corner of his eyes, see the burden of hunting down the Cabal weighing on his shoulders.
"Until he's up and ready for round two? No telling. Three months have already passed, but with the Sleeper destroyed and half the Cabal dead that definitely puts a kink in his plans. He's probably off somewhere licking his wounds."
"Could we go back to the Strahov? See if the Shards are still there?" she asked.
Kurtis shook his head. "No, if Karel's alive, which I'm positive he is, he would have taken them. He's too smart to make a rookie mistake like leaving them lying around, especially if he's so far been clever enough to play everyone around him like he has."
Lara sighed. "This is just.. lovely."
"You can say that again." Dropping his spent cigarette to the ground, he stomped out the flame with the heel of his boot. Standing this close to him, Lara could smell the fresh smoke, old sweat, and faint hint of beer that clung to him. While not exactly an attractive combination, it was a masculine one, and nevertheless she had to stop herself from leaning in closer to him. That old familiar feeling blossomed in the center of her gut, reminding her of the first time she locked eyes with him in the Louvre. Never minding the gun that was pressed to her neck, she had found herself leaning in towards his face, mesmerized by him: his scent, his piercing blue eyes, the way his tousled bangs hung down his face...
"Hey," Kurtis said and brought her back to the present. "Thanks for giving me back my Chirugai."
"Your what?"
"My weapon." he clarified, tapping the bladed disc at his hip once more.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "You could have knocked, you know. It isn't always necessary to sneak up on me."
Kurtis grinned. "Yeah, but it is more fun." She felt herself fighting a grin.
"Well.. it's good to see you alive." When he raised his brows at this, she quickly added, "I mean, it's nice that not everyone I came into contact with during this debacle died because of me."
He gave her a peculiar look, his eyes sweeping her face as if trying to read her. "I'm happy you're alive too."
"That's not what I said..!"
Ignoring her protests, Kurtis walked back inside the kitchen to the breakfast table, took hold of his now cold cup of tea and downed it in one go. Lara wrinkled her nose at his back. Disgusting.
"Well I'm gonna head out now. Got some business to tend to." He said lightly and set the cup back down.
"Is that business tracking down Karel?"
"Maybe."
"Kurtis..." she began, but before she could continue he interrupted.
"Don't say it," he waved his hand at her like shooing off a fly. His voice was tense. "This isn't your fight. Judging by the fact you're here instead of still in Prague, I'm assuming whatever 'personal reasons' you had for being involved in the first place are settled now, yeah? So there's no need to re-involve yourself now. Just relax and forget all about it. Enjoy your sprawling manor and accumulated wealth."
Irritated at his condescending dismissal, Lara frowned. "How can you say that? I'm already involved. Karel didn't seem exactly thrilled that I threw his offer back in his face. You're telling me that lunatic is still out there, and I'm to do nothing?"
He shook his head in exasperation. "Listen. You aren't Lux Veritatis. You aren't Cabal. You aren't Nephilim. This isn't your war, Lara."
"And it's yours?" she asked doubtingly.
Kurtis looked away at this. His face went dark and solemn briefly, like a flash. "Yeah." Without another word he proceeded to walk to the main entrance of the manor, Lara hot on his heels, irritation having now grown to incensement. It was as though he was downplaying how much Lara helped him in Paris and Prague. He basically rodemy coattails all the way to the Strahov, and now he's actingas if he can do it all by himself.
"If you're telling me this out of some sort of misguided attempt to protect me..." she started.
"I'm not, don't worry about that. I know you can take care of yourself." He stopped at the door with his hand on the knob, twisting but then releasing it. He turned and faced her again, his face a mask of indifference. "Fine. If you really want to help, I'm headed to Castle Kriegler in Germany."
"And what will you be doing there?"
"Looking for clues." He opened the door, and with a two-fingered salute, walked out of the manor leaving Lara behind.
