"Who are you?"
She doesn't need to hear the trembling in his voice to know he's terrified. No, she could smell it from here, the wretched stench of fear permeating her senses.
Amongst other stenches. The grit of city streets, and the obvious dumpster a few feet away from where they're standing. With their surroundings coupled with the ominous shroud of night, she looks more like a storybook villain cornering an innocent civilian. It's not her fault he chose to make a beeline for the alley.
"Doesn't matter," she replies. "Just answer my question from earlier."
He laughs a hollow laugh, the kind bred from the insanity of fear. "I can't do that. They'll kill me even if you don't."
Far from innocent, this one. Dirty scumbag barely touches the surface of his track record. Although, she was no hero either.
"You seem to be mistaken," she says, edging closer as the man shrinks backwards, back hitting the wall. "I don't care."
A blue light emanates from her hand just as her fingers graze the side of his face. He gasps, eyes rolling back, mouth slightly open. His hands fumble around, trying to anchor themselves in that familiar frenzy she's seen hundreds of times before.
And just like that, just like all the others, the words she wanted to hear start spilling out of every corner of his mouth.
She's long realized that pleasure is a far greater motivator than pain.
When Evony first mentioned going back to school, Lauren was partially confused, but mostly flattered. Nice to know her collection of skincare products was being put to work. Until she dropped the teaching assistant bit.
Arguably it could have been much worse - and she didn't actually fancy the dorm life - so really, being a TA is quite a suitable cover. It'd be for an Intro class for, something sciency as Evony put it. She gave her a list of classes to choose from. And besides, Lauren's already done the hard part, the whole becoming a certified doctor. So how hard could playing a pretend doctor be.
She does, however, recall the surge of excitement when the file dropped into her hands, something that's been amiss for years. It's just routine for a regular agent but for someone like Lauren who rarely ventures out the four walls of her lab, this was quite the extraordinary opportunity.
It's not that she dislikes the lab, far from it. There's an ineffable pleasure derived from conducting her daily experiments and she's never taken the facilities provided by the Morrigan for granted. But old habits die hard, and sometimes vestiges of her old life penetrate through her thoughts, her dreams and she can't help but miss that life.
But she's promised never to look back. Never forget the reason you're here in the first place, is the bedtime story she tells herself every night.
The folder lies open on the desk, in a messy heap, an unfortunate habit she's starting to inherit from Evony, along with a whole lot of other vices (excessive drinking being the worst). There was a time that would have horrified her, but things are different now. She used be so sure of the world but now, she understands the importance of really seeing every slight gradient. Good and evil, those are just words. A child's words. And she's long done with playing games.
Her phone vibrates against her leg and she fishes it out of her pocket. She's been waiting for this call.
"Slight change of plans."
"Oh my god D-man—Dyson. You did not tell me I'd have my own office," Kenzi gushes, swallowing every detail of her surroundings with a sweep of her eyes.
"You should thank me. I put in a special request in just for you," Dyson explains.
Calling it lavish would almost be an understatement. She has her own desk for one, and an ample amount of workspace to go with it. There's more furniture in this one room than in her entire apartment. Not to mention the gorgeous view from the window.
"This is really, really nice Dyson. I could plop a mattress over there," she points, "and it'd be just like home."
"Okaaay," Dyson steers her away from the room. "C'mon. There's something I want to show you."
"Recitation's on Friday, don't forget."
She finally stirs awake at the sound of feet shuffling and the synchronized movement of students piling out of lecture. It's the only good thing about Intro classes, there's a much appreciated sense of anonymity with a class size of a hundred and fifty students. Helps with those rough nights.
Although rough nights for normal people are probably more of the partying variety than the saving the world from all that is evil variety.
Bo files out of the classroom in a daydream fashion, all sluggish and in a daze. Probably why she misses the incoming traffic. It doesn't hit her until quite literally, a flash of white crashes against her.
She doesn't quite know how, but her instincts kick in and the next thing she knows, she's holding up the other woman by the arm in an iron grip.
"Wow…" the woman remarks, staring at the place where her hand connected with her arm. "That's quite the catch."
"What-oh, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking at all," Bo starts, words manically spilling from her mouth in a fashion that reminds her of the guy last night. Except these words aren't effected by some higher power. Or so she knows.
"No worries," the woman smiles, and then gestures to her hand. "So, are we going to stand here, conjoined at the limb or,"
"Oh right. Sorry. I just," she mumbles, and mentally berates herself for being so awkwardly incoherent. It's not just the element of surprise that catches Bo off guard, but some enticing quality of the woman that's really throwing her off her game. Yeah, she's beautiful, but Bo's seen her fair share of gorgeous women in her life and none of them have so much rendered her as incompetent as this.
Considering her profile, it takes a lot to intimidate her but right here right now, this woman and her stare has her adrenaline running like she'd just been in a fight.
When she lets go, the woman gives her another smile and a slight wave before heading off. Bo has a hundred questions lined up, just stacked against the edge of her tongue.
She thinks on it for the rest of the day, and nearly trips over a fire hydrant during her night patrol.
"And I thought my office was nice."
"Have a seat," Dyson sits behind the desk as Kenzi settles in her chair. "Now, you know how I mentioned I was promoted recently?"
"Yeah?"
"Well before I was promoted, they'd been calling me "the closer" because of how successful I'd been on my recent cases."
"Okay, now you're just showing off."
"It doesn't end there," Dyson adds, ignoring Kenzi's obvious jab at him. "All the cases I'd been working, someone was always leaving me a trail."
Well that's new. Kenzi's kind of impressed. "You have an inside man?"
Dyson shakes his head. "Anonymous tips. Faxes, emails, sometimes the occasional delivery boy. Always coinciding with the second week from when the cases opened. I didn't believe them at first, but they've been incredibly precise with their information. And by that I mean more efficient than even our police force."
"Right, because the public sector is just overrun with efficiency," she remarks, and moves on when Dyson shoots her a glare. "And you have no clue who's been sending them?"
Dyson sighs, running his hand across the smooth surface of the desk. "They're very...careful with their work. Never any fingerprints. The anonymity was okay in my old division, but here, all my work's gonna be heavily scrutinized. I can't be taking any chances with our mystery man."
"Don't wanna be walking the low road again?" Kenzi prods.
Dyson glances towards the door before lowering his voice. "Listen, Kenzi. The real reason I've been reassigned is because the last officer in my position was brought down on extortion charges. There's talk of someone feeding officers hush money in exchange for immunity on certain cases. And so far, none of the officers incarcerated on those charges have been willing to talk."
"So they instated you to keep things prim and proper," Kenzi deduces. "That's gotta play on your ego."
"This is serious Kenzi," Dyson warns. "I brought you in so you could be my eyes and ears. I need to know that I have someone I can trust, a hundred percent."
She's known Dyson for a long time now. A friend, a mentor, someone who's been there for her at her lowest and never asked for anything in return. It's about time she starts paying back her debts.
"Ready at your service."
"Target's confirmed. What's the next course of action?"
"Agent Tamsin is in place. Contact her."
"And if she recognizes me?"
"That would be very unlikely. But in the event that she does, remind her of her place, who she works for. You of all people should know that best."
Indeed, she does.
Evony hates the idea of last resorts. It's reply to something unforeseeable, that insinuates she's overlooked something. That she'd be so callous as to make a mistake.
No, humans make mistakes. She's better than that.
"So, what'd you screw over this time. Or, y'know, who?"
"Don't be a smartass Vex," she replies curtly, ignoring the grin on his face. It reminds her of how desperate she was to even consider using this annoying little bastard. "I just need you to keep an eye on someone for me. Without their knowing," she adds.
"Anything I can do for m'lady," he gestures mockingly, "At a price of course."
"I think you will find my offer quite satisfactory," she remarks, sliding a face-down check towards him. She smirks as he visibly inhales at seeing the large figure.
"So, who's the lucky guy," he asks finally, tucking check away in his jacket.
"Gal," she corrects. "Here's her profile and everything you need to know."
He takes the file, flips through the pages, all the while with raised eyebrows. "Dr. Lauren Lewis. That's a familiar name. Isn't she one of yours?"
"That she is," she stands, and walks over to the other side of the desk, facing him now. "Which is why I want this done discreetly."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"You know my number one rule. Trust no one. Besides, if she's clean then she's got nothing to hide."
"But you think she does," Vex points out. "You don't do things on a whim."
He's not wrong, but she doesn't exactly have any tangible incriminating evidence either. It's largely her intuition, except she can count on one hand how many times her intuitions have betrayed her. In the end Evony is a Fae, a professional in her work, and Lauren is just a human. And despite how much her poker face has improved since being taken under Evony's wing, there are just classic sentiments she can't hide. Evony reads people like Lauren reads those scientific journals of hers, and Evony knows a great opportunist when she sees one because she sees it in the mirror every morning.
And Lauren is nothing short of great.
Admittedly, she's never been good with directions but if Tamsin had known the campus would be this big clusterfuck of a maze, she'd have grabbed a gps instead of this useless, flimsy map. She didn't count on finding a dormitory to be this difficult.
And where exactly is her contact anyways. She'd received a call this morning from the Council, that her contact would be here to greet here. But here she is, lost in the terrible crowd of hormonal teenagers with no exit in site. She couldn't imagine a worse place to be.
"Hey there."
Great. She's managed a full fifteen minutes before being hit on.
"Look asshat, I'm not interes-"
She turns around and surprisingly, it's not the dead-eyed college jock she was expecting, but a rather lean standing blonde instead. Oh, and easy on the eyes.
"-sted," Tamsin finishes. There's something about the woman, like a certain familiarity she can't quite pinpoint.
"Not the sweaty, bullying macho-man you were expecting was it," the woman smiles.
"Whatever," Tamsin folds her arms together. "Still not interested."
She laughs, in that annoyingly attractive way that women who get all the guys at bars do, and Tamsin has this overwhelming urge to slap her almost.
"Well how's this for interest, Tamsin."
She stiffens at the mention of her name, muscles tense and ready. She didn't think a hot blondie would make her list of enemies, but considering her past, anything's possible. They're in a public area though, so she doesn't think the woman will try anything but it never hurt to be on guard. Besides, just from a quick run-down, Tamsin could totally take her.
"Relax, Valkyrie," the woman accentuates the word. "The Council sent me."
It dawns on her now. "You're my contact? I wasn't aware the Council's doing on campus recruiting now," Tamsin quips.
"Your Handler actually," she corrects. "And I'm out on another job, outsourcing shall we say."
She throws a folder at Tamsin, which almost smacks her in the face as her fumbling hands catch it right in time. Goddamn, everything about this woman is throwing Tamsin off her game.
"Here's the first stage of your mission. I'll be around to hand you the rest of the briefings when they come," the woman explains, no longer smiling. "Oh and I'm Lauren. Or in terms you can understand, Agent Lewis."