CHAPTER 12

When Paradise Falls

Anja, Charon, and Leena reached Paradise Falls before midnight. James had decided to continue his journey towards Rivet City. His mission there was a lot more important to him and the overall inhabitants of the wasteland. Slavers, he explained, would be a dying breed soon enough anyways. He had still admonished them to be careful, and he had hugged his daughter close for a long time.

Paradise Falls looked intimidating when they approached, a before the war big shopping mall, now turned into the biggest slave-trade enterprise in the wasteland. Charon had been there before, and his tactical guidance was invaluable as they planned their assault.

It had only one way in, and that was through the guarded main gate. Most of the slavers would be inside a second set of gates, close to the shops and the sleeping quarters. The slave pens were at the far back of the facility.

Leena suggested they tried to trick their way in by disguising Anja as a slave, and herself and Charon as her captors. Charon had looked very angered and frightening when he dissuaded that suggestion, but Anja and Leena glanced at each other, wondering if it could work.

Leena argued that it would at least get them inside. Anja made a point of arguing that maybe she could get to the terminal that controlled the slaves' collars, deactivating them and enabling the slaves to help kill their captors.

"The terminal is inside Eulogy's pad," Charon dismissed rather roughly. "You don't want to go there under the disguise as a slave."

"Why not?" Anja asked.

The look Charon gave her made her spine freeze. "Because he only takes slaves there with the intention to fuck them."

"What if we make sure she has a hidden weapon on her?" Leena suggested carefully.

Charon rounded on her like a behemoth ready to tear her limbs off. "I said no!"

Even though she was his employer, Leena visibly cowered. Anja quickly stepped in between them. Although she was grateful that Charon was trying to keep her as much out of harm's way as he could, his reaction to this entire ordeal was puzzling. She understood he was cautious about this Forty guy he'd warned about, but that still didn't govern for this level of distress. Forty was just a guy, a human man that would bleed and die if shot at.

"Easy there," Anja said, trying to cool down the temperature a bit. "Leena, I really don't want that kind of attention, ok? Let's think of something else."

"Fine. I'll go. I can play the slave," the Vault kid growled. And then she cringed, eyes closing. She was silent for a moment, frowning. When she spoke again, it was clear that's she wasn't speaking to Anja or Charon. "Stop yelling at me, will you? I get it. We're not using ourselves as bait."

"I'm glad he agrees," Anja commented dryly, looking at the Vault kid as she opened her eyes again, looking frustrated and a bit shaken. "Does your… uh, mate there, have any suggestions?"

Leena didn't answer for a long time, her dark eyes introverted and distant. Anja and Charon waited, glancing at each other a little meanwhile. It was odd to be on the outside and watch someone have a mental conversation like that. Was that how she looked when Charon spoke to her, she wondered.

The Vault kid's eyes finally adjusted to look at Anja and Charon, and she smiled a little. "He says to ask Charon what a kill zone is."

…

Anja and Leena watched from a hiding place behind some rocks while Charon strolled up to the entrance of Paradise Falls. When the guy on watch spotted him, the ghoul raised his hands to signal peace. The man had his gun aimed at him, and he motioned him to come closer.

Charon stepped up to the table the man had been sitting at. Anja held her breath, watching the man and the ghoul exchange words that didn't reach to hers and Leena's hiding place. The human man laughed roughly and lowered his weapon, taking a step to the side to allow Charon passage.

The ghoul stepped forward, saying something to the man. He reached his arm out to grab the man's shoulder. As if she was watching a slow movie, Anja saw the man flinch slightly away from the large ghoul, while the ghoul used his free hand behind his back to pull a combat knife out from his belt. Then his movements hastened, swiftly grabbing the man's shoulder and bringing the knife forward. He twisted his body slightly, quickly sidestepping and rounding on the man, his armed hand swinging the knife and digging it deep into the back of the man's neck.

The man froze, his face twisted in shock and gaping surprise. He took a stumbling step forward, and just before he was about to fall to his knees, Charon grabbed him to prevent him fall. The large ghoul held the man, guiding his lifeless slump to the ground, silently laying him down.

The whole thing had happened in just a few seconds, and Anja's gut twisted in a mixture between awe and fear. Charon was an effective killer, she'd give him that.

Once the guard was lying on the ground, still bleeding but definitely dead, Charon rose from the corpse, slowly turning his head towards the women's hiding place. He beckoned them over, signaling that it was clear for them to join him.

"Wow," Leena breathed as she rose from her hunched position. "I mean, I've seen him kill before. But this…" she paused and bit her words down.

Anja also rose from her position, watching Charon wait for them as they approached. She didn't say anything to him, but she did give him a timid and small smile.

The three of them entered further into the first area of the compound, arming and laying out frag mines as they went. They placed the mines strategically where people were most likely to step, pushing them into the sand to cover them up as much as possible. They worked in silence, slowly closing in on the second check point of the place; a wall made out of an old city bus with closed doors. On the other side of the doors, they heard voices.

Finally finished with the frag mines, Charon gave the women a nod and waved them off. The women darted into the ruined concrete to find cover, pulling out their weapons. They saw Charon take cover closer to the gate. Then he grabbed a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin. He threw it over the bus gate, expertly aiming it in between the metal supporters if the large sign above the gate. The grenade flew low and landed not far from the doors on the other side.

The grenade went off with a shattering boom that blew the bus doors wide open. Loud and angry shouting followed shortly after, and the slavers came pouring out of the ruined gate.

It was a busy fight. Anja fired and reloaded her assault rifle as quickly she could, desperately trying to hold off the slavers coming towards hers and Leena's position. Leena was slow, but deadly accurate with her .44 magnum gun. Charon kept shooting from his own cover, luring them towards him and the frag mines on the ground.

When the first of the mines went off, it sent two slavers through the air, dust and dirt following like a small cloud. Charon grabbed hold of his hat to prevent it from flying off him, shielding his eyes in the same motion. Anja ducked into cover with her teeth clenched, feeling the pain from a stray object lodge itself into her shoulder. She had no time to linger on the wound, and smoothly rose out of her cover to keep firing when the dust had settled. Charon was already firing his own gun.

For a few minutes, the fight looked like it was going in their favor. Several more mines went off, and more slavers fell. The gunfire grew less and less frantic, giving Anja the break she needed to time her shots more accurately.

Then two men kicked their way out of the gates. Both holding heavy and deadly looking super sledges. One of the men was a large and very handsome blonde man. The other man was also large, but he was older and had darker colors. They both charged towards Charon, and he kept shooting while quickly backing away from them. Anja and Leena aimed for their legs, their hands, and their heads. But nothing seemed to slow them down. The younger man paused to turn his attention to the women.

Anja's perception slowed again. She saw the older man rush up to Caron, swinging his sledgehammer sideways. The ghoul saw the blow coming and used his plated shoulder to shield himself from it. But the blow was powerful and almost knocked him off his feet. The man pulled back, gaining strength in momentum for another blow. Anja fired at his head, quickly and frantically, until her gun clicked miserably and feebly.

The second blow sent the ghoul sprawling, losing his grip on his shotgun.

Blood rushing in her ears, Anja acted on instinct. Discarding her gun, she pulled her knife from her boot and dashed out of cover, ducking and sliding out of the young man's range, hearing Leena shriek something behind her as she did. She wasn't listening, green eyes focused on the older man as he raised his sledgehammer over his head, ready to give the scrambling ghoul a killing blow.

She came up behind him and jumped onto his back, stabbing her knife into the soft and exposed tissue in his throat. He stumbled and lost his balance for just a moment. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the sledgehammer to miss Charon's head, giving him time to roll away and to safety.

The man snarled and grabbed above him to pry the much smaller woman off his back. Anja held on tightly, pulling the knife back only to stab him again. And again. The man roared with a gurgling sound and began swirling, trying to shake her off him. He backed into a concrete wall, pushing hard against it, crushing the air out of her lungs. But Anja was still holding onto him.

The man tried grabbing her again, only this time lower, going for her feet. Horror struck her when she felt his large hand wrap tightly around her ankle, and he pulled a knife from his belt. The pain when his knife entered her calf was sharp and hot, and Anja lost her strength to hold onto him. He pulled harder at her leg and swung her around, using her weight against her as he threw her off him.

For a second, Anja was weightless. But then she came to a brutal halt when her body collided painfully with the old city bus. Sliding down the wall, she saw the man take a moment to breathe, blood flowing steadily from the stab wounds in his throat. His gloved hand raised to cover the wounds, and he glared a promise of death at her. Behind him, she saw Charon and Leena finish off the younger man.

The man in front of her raised his sledgehammer, coming towards her. Anja closed her eyes and shielded her head.

Several gunshots filled the air again, the booming metallic sound of a combat shotgun, and the sharper and ear-splitting sound of a smaller gun. A loud thump followed shortly after. She opened her eyes again just in time to see the man collapse to the ground, sprawling out next to his dropped sledgehammer. Behind him, Charon and Leena approached, still holding their weapons ready, but both of them looking at her.

Collecting her feet under her, she tried to stand. The sharp pain in her calf made her leg give in, and she fell again. She was shaking hard from adrenaline, and merely sat there and watched as her two companions hunched down in front of her.

"Are you insane?" Charon grumbled, his ghoulish rough voice was shaking, and he was breathing hard. "What were you thinking?"

"You're welcome," Anja stuttered back, also breathing hard.

Leena moved her attention to Anja's leg, and then pulled the knife still stuck in her calf out. Anja couldn't help the guttural growl of pain that escaped her. The vault girl pulled out a stimpak and inspected the wound before administrating it.

Charon leaned forward to inspect the wound in Anja's shoulder. "Wait," he barked, effectively stopping Leena from injecting the stim. "She's got something in her shoulder."

Leena crept closer and also inspected her shoulder. "It's a piece of metal. Maybe from the mines."

"Just get it out of me," Anja muttered, blinking hard a few times to focus on the two in front of her. "It's just a flesh wound. Take it out. We might not have much time before more slavers come."

Charon gave her a quick glance and nodded, bringing out a knife he then handed to his employer. Leena accepted it without hesitation.

They helped Anja pull away as much of her clothing as possible, to allow better access to the wound. The Vault kid poked the knife into the wound a little, to assess how big and deep the object was, and then her dark eyes moved to Anja's.

"Ready?"

"Just do it. Hurry." Anja barked, grabbing hold of her own pants to have something solid to grasp.

Leena's hands were steady and unflinching when she began cutting into Anja's shoulder, opening the wound enough to get a better view of the piece of metal. Anja groaned, but didn't move away. She closed her eyes and took deep and controlled breaths, trying not to feel anything.

The metal object was removed with a sleek and wet sound, earning another painful and high pitched and very girlish shriek from Anja.

"There," Leena hummed, pouring some purified water over the wound before she administered the stimpak.

Anja thanked and opened her eyes, meeting Charon's hazy gaze. The ghoul looked just as stoic and cold as he always did, looking right at her. He moved back to his haunches and grabbed her arm, pulling her up with him when he stood. Anja could already feel her skin knit and twist back together, the wounds closing, leaving just a thin and barely visible scar behind.

"Alright," she said, taking her assault rifle back from Charon and loading it with practiced ease, slamming her palm into the side of it, unjamming it. "Let's clear out the rest of this place. I'm getting hungry."

…

The three of them pressed forward, deeper into the slaver compound, guns ready and eyes sharp. Charon took the lead while the two women watched his flanks. The area was dark and quiet, but they knew there were slavers around. Charon had said he hadn't seen Forty or Eulogy Jones amongst the slavers they had killed outside.

Anja watched Charon with worry. He was pulling his leg a little, and his unharmed shoulder was obviously compensating for the wounded one. His face was set in concentration, eyes sharp and narrowed as they stepped further into the heart of Paradise Falls. He reminded her all too much of a wounded deathclaw on the hunt.

Shuddering a little, she gazed into the shadows of the buildings while she followed Charon's lead. She saw that they passed several buildings with signs. A clinic, a bar, a gun shop. All quiet.

"Here," the ghoul eventually said, motioning for the women look. "Eulogy's pad. Where he keeps his control terminal. We should be able to deactivate the slaves' collars from it."

"Where are the slaves?" Leena questioned, dark eyes darting around at the shadows just like Anja's.

"They are kept in pens at the far back. No point in going there before we've deactivated their collars."

"Okay," Leena nodded. "That's reasonable, I guess."

Anja took deep and steady breaths as they approached the building, feeling more edgy and nervous than she had in a long time. Must be the remaining adrenaline from the first fight, she concluded. Her steps were cautious and timed, just like Charon's.

They surrounded the door, and Leena moved to open it while Anja and Charon took position with their weapons aimed. Staying clear off the door, Leena reached out and pulled it door open. Charon quickly stepped inside, searching for enemies. Anja beckoned Leena to go in after him, and then she turned to make another visual sweep at the area before also stepping inside the house.

With her back to the open door, she heard it creak, and then click as it swung shut and closed. She whirled around and tried the handle, but the door was locked. Just then did she notice the wires around the door - a telltale sign that the door was electronically controlled. Shortly after, she heard gunfire inside the building. Her heart violently leapt up her throat, and she quickly stepped back to aim her gun at the lock.

Then a male voice spoke behind her, and his malicious tone made her skin crawl. "Well, well. Look who it is. Eric's little foster child."

Whirling around again, weapon aimed and finger already on the trigger, Anja felt herself pale when she saw who it was. She immediately recognized the face, although she had seen in only once before in her life, in the dark, while he was fighting super mutants.

The man stood right in front of her, grinning wickedly, making his mustache tilt at the edges. His eyebrows though, were sharp and shaped into a frown. His short mohawk was perfectly groomed.

"Forty," she said in an exhale, still holding him dead center in her aim. She could still hear gunfire inside the building behind her, and by the sound of it, her companions had their hands full.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You know who I am?" Without waiting for an answer, he stepped closer, indiscreetly eyeing her weapon. He smiled again. It was a bone-chilling and dark kind of smile that made ice flow into her veins.

"Stay there. Or I will shoot you," she warned between clenched teeth.

The man obediently stopped, but his eyes glinted of malice. "Why haven't you already?"

She took a short and threatening step towards him, feeling the stiff motions in her body, the tension in her stance. "How do you know who I am?"

"Ahh," he grinned. "So that's why. You wanna know what I know, is that it?" Obviously feeling more confident, he took another step closer to Anja and her gun, moving slowly to take it from her. "Well, scrub. It's gonna co-"

He was cut short by the butt of Anja's gun bashing into his face. A wet crunch followed the sound, and the man stumbled backwards, clutching at his bleeding nose. She didn't dare try to tug at Charon's attention. By the sound of the gunfire inside the building, he was most likely very busy.

"Start talking!" she barked and walked slowly after Forty when he backed away from her, aiming at him again.

"You broke my nose, bitch!"

"I'll break a lot more if you don't start talking."

"Fuck! Alright. Calm down. Let's talk."

He backed further away when she approached, suddenly apprehensive about her. It almost made her laugh. Had he thought she'd be some cowering little girl begging for mercy? Like one of his slaves? But she didn't laugh. Because this situation wasn't at all funny. Instead, Anja raised an eyebrow expectantly at him. The gunfire in the building behind her was slowing down its intensity.

The man wiped his nose several times, frowning and glaring menacingly at her. "Eric? Your dearly departed foster father? He wasn't the man you thought he was."

"Was he a slaver, like you?" Anja almost spat the words out.

"Nah, not like that. But he was a trader, and we payed him well for his goods."

She already knew Eric had been a trader. That was the whole point of scavenging; to sell the loot you gather. Although she hadn't known he dealt with slavers, trading goods with them didn't seem like such and awful thing to do. Immoral, perhaps. But not awful. Anja narrowed her eyes at Forty. "So? What does that have to do with me?"

Forty laughed. His laugh was deep and raspy at the same time, making the hair on her back stand. "You have no clue, do you sweetheart?"

Anja aimed lower and fired her gun. The man screamed and hopped around, trying to clutch at his bleeding foot. The gunfire in the building behind her had stopped. Slowly raising her gun at his face again, she grinned and locked her eyes into his.

"I can to this all night," she threatened slowly. "Next one goes into your ankle. And then I'll slowly work my way upwards to your knee. And your thigh. And your dick. Time's ticking Forty."

A bloody hand shot out to her, gesturing to make her stop. "Alright. Fuck!" Taking a few deep breaths, he gathered his strength. "Eric traded with us for supplies. He didn't talk about you, but come on. What's a grown man gonna do with a little girl's jumpsuit, huh? We knew he was hiding something."

"If he didn't talk about me, how do you know who I am?"

"Oh, he talked about you alright. You see, Eric began trading on credit when he couldn't bring in enough goods to pay for what he took."

It was as if someone had knocked the air out of her. Anja's vision flickered a little, her stomach rolled uncomfortably. All the clothes Eric had brought her, all the little children's things, maybe even the weapons. Everything had been stripped away from slaves. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she finally dared a tug at Charon's attention. She was rewarded by loud and heavy banging on the door behind her. It sounded as if someone was throwing their body at the door. Swallowing another time, she desperately hoped it was Charon and Leena on the other side of that door.

The man continued; "Eventually, Eulogy and I started to ask questions. And what do you think the good old Eric had in his possession that would be valuable to us?"

"Me," she stated, slowly realizing what this slaver was truly saying. "Eric made a deal for me."

Forty grimaced, limping and trying to find a good stance that didn't upset his bleeding foot too much. "Not exactly. But when word caught up with us that he'd met his death in the DC ruins… We went looking for you." The man laughed again, slightly hysterical and loudly. "And you don't even know who killed him, do you?"

"Who killed him?"

A loud crash from behind her startled Anja into pulling the trigger. It missed Forty's head by just an inch, and he ducked. Anja turned her head slightly, seeing Charon step out of the doorway, forcibly ripping what remained of the door off its hinges. He looked absolutely furious. Pulling his shotgun forward, he aimed it at Forty and stepped over to Anja's side.

Meanwhile, Forty had obviously realized defeat, raising his hands. His eyes moved between Anja and Charon, and his face twisted into a mocking grin. He inclined his head to Charon, but had his eyes locked with Anja's. "He did." And then he laughed again.

And then Charon shot him.

…

Anja had wandered off. To where, Charon had no idea. He trailed behind his employer, eyes scanning the ruins of Paradise Falls as they approached the slave pens, searching for her small figure. Whenever he reached into their bond, all he saw was a dulled darkness that only told him she had her eyes open, but that she was sitting in the dark somewhere.

Her emotions were still. Unnervingly so.

Focusing his attention to his employer, he watched while she opened the pen gates. One middle-aged male slave stepped forward, shaking and looking malnourished and terrified.

"We heard the shooting," he stuttered. "Our collars are off. Does that mean they're.."

"Dead," Leena smiled gently. "You're free to leave."

The man's lower lip quivered, and he fell to his knees, right in front of Leena. A deep and shuddering sob escaped him, and he leaned forward, almost worshipping her feet. "Thank you. Thank you, kind child."

Leena gently leaned down to help him back onto his feet. "It's okay." Her smile was a little timid this time, clearly uncomfortable with the man's gesture. The man kissed her small hands several times, repeating his thanks, still crying.

Then other slaves came out of the pens after him, all of them thanking her, all of them crying. Leena stood there to greet them all, smiling, telling them they should take anything they needed from this place, and then go back to their homes. To their families.

Charon stood a little to the side and watched. The freed slaves merely glanced at him, and then shied away from his presence. He didn't mind. He didn't need their thanks. Had it been up to him, none of this would've happened in the first place.

His eyes settled on Leena, this young Vault dweller who wouldn't take no for an answer and was practically unstoppable when she set her mind on something. Charon found himself admiring her willpower and kind nature, but even so, his hatred for her had never been deeper.

She'd saved these slaves. She was a genuinely good person. But she didn't care what consequences her kindness had. And that was a flaw Charon found it hard to overlook.

Children also came out of the pens, and Leena crouched down to their level, talking with them for a long time. He overheard something about Little Lamplight, and that Leena was welcome there anytime she wanted.

The children didn't shy away from him like the adults did. They tanked him, all of them toughing his hand lightly as they passed him. Charon nodded them off stiffly.

Once all the slaves were freed, Leena turned to him. Her smile was bright and happy, and she had tears in her eyes. "You can't say this doesn't make you feel good?"

Charon didn't reply. He looked at her without emotion, waiting for an order, a command. Anything besides this teary-eyed self-smugness she was trying to project onto him.

Nodding a few times, listening inwards at what he assumed was the words of her own soulmate, she wiped her tears away. "Right. You're right." Her eyes slowly shifted up at Charon. "We should camp here tonight."

"Not a good idea," he rasped, frowning. "More slavers will come. This place isn't safe."

"Just for a few hours. I need to sleep. And Anja's going to need some rest as well. Where is she, by the way?"

"Don't know," he said, shrugging outwardly but growling inwardly. Did she just now notice they were missing their third companion?

"Go find her. I'll heat some food," she ordered, waiving him off, even though she was the one walking away. "I think I saw a grill in the bar."

Charon quietly watched her leave, and then he reached into the bond again. It was still dark around his soulmate. The air felt stale, moist. It was a little cold too. Bathroom perhaps? He spotted the signs to a bathroom, and immediately began walking towards it.

"If you're hiding in the bathrooms, don't be alarmed. I'm coming in there." He spoke quietly, trying to make his destroyed vocal cords sound as reassuring as possible.

His soulmate shifted her position slightly. "Don't. Stay away."

"Can't do that." Inwardly, he cursed. He understood she needed space and privacy right now, but his feet still walked towards the bathrooms, following orders. Leena had said to find her, but nothing more. So that's what he'd do - find her.

A small annoyance came through the bond from his soulmate. "Leave me alone."

Charon walked up to the door, pausing. "You can come outside if you want. But if you don't, I'm coming in there." It sounded like a threat, and maybe it was. He had to go in there, regardless of what she said.

"Fuck off."

With a sigh, Charon pushed the door open, stepping inside the dark bathroom. Reaching out his hand over the wall next to the door, he flipped the light switch. One single light-bulb further into the room blinked to life, flickering angrily several times, before it settled to flicking unevenly every second.

He spotted her immediately, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, holding her rifle across her knees and glaring up at him. Her eyes were narrowed by the sudden light disturbing her eyes. Blood from her healed wounds soaked her clothes, and she was sporting a bruised lip as well. Now that he'd found her, Charon stopped in the doorway, not entering the room.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"To find you. Leena's orders."

His response had her grimace a little, and then she set her rifle down to the floor, sighing.

"Of course. Leena. What does she want, then?" She folded her hands in her lap, looking expectantly at him.

"She's heating some food. And both of you need to get some sleep before we move on." His raspy voice echoed a little in the tiled room.

"You do know I'm not under her command, right? She can't boss me around, and that means you can't boss me around."

Charon inhaled slowly, trying, and failing, to bite down his response. "Well, technically-"

"Oh, shut up," she scoffed, hopping to her feet and grabbing her gun. "I know how it works. Leena gives and order, and you come in here ready to manhandle me in any way she sees fit. Am I right?" While she spoke, she walked towards him, and Charon moved aside so she could exit the bathroom.

He fell into a slow walk beside her, and his forehead dipped into a frown. "No. She said to find you, and I did. How you interpret that into manhandling is beyond me."

Anja scoffed again, but she didn't turn to go back into the bathroom. She was walking at a leisure pace that had him slow his longer strides so that he didn't walk away from her. He was watching her face and the way she was glancing at him, eyes hurt and wounded.

His frown dipped even further. "I wouldn't manhandle you if I could avoid it. I will never hurt you, if I can avoid it." Something inside him wanted to grab her to a stop, so that he could look at her fully, and hopefully speak with her. But Anja didn't look like she would appreciate that, so he stayed his hands.

His response earned a hardened and sarcastic laugh from her. "You already did though, didn't you? Seven years ago, when you killed my father? You didn't think that was going to hurt me?"

That was it. The cause of her distress. Throwing his concerns for what she would and wouldn't appreciate out the window, he grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. Anja balked and shook his hand off her, glaring at him.

Charon looked steadily into her eyes, speaking slowly. "Did you not hear what Forty said? What do you think would've happened to you if Eric hadn't died?"

Anja gaped in disbelief. "So, it's true? You really did kill him?"

"I did," he acknowledged with a short nod, still holding her gaze. He was not about to apologize for saving her life that time. Saving her from a fate that was certain to be worse than death. After all, few people knew as well as him just how fucked up life as a slave could get. And Anja had been only 12 years old at the time. Sill a child.

She stared at him, still in shock, breathing hard. Her breaths intensified, eyes quickly shifting back and forth between his own while her rage increased at the same pace as her breaths, and then she yelled. "You-! You took away the only person who has ever cared about me!"

Charon's own anger sparked in tune with hers, flaring inside him like lightning about to strike. "Cared about you?" he repeated, looking hard down at her. "Cared? You're talking about a man who beat you for his own amusement!"

"It wasn't for his amusement! He was teaching me how to survive!"

"He sure as fuck made a point of laughing about it."

"He didn't…." She shifted her stance and began pacing in front of him, agitation making it hard to stay still. "I was twelve, and you killed him."

Charon stayed still, but he was constantly restraining his own temper. "Exactly," he growled. "You were a child. A child he beat. A child he would eventually have sold to these slavers to pay off his debt."

Anja suddenly turned on him, still yelling. "I was alone! Because of you, I was alone!" And then she charged at him.

She attacked him with her fists, screaming in anger and frustration. Charon froze, barely moving when she tried to push him off his balance. He didn't try to restrain her, didn't try to push her away. She was cursing and yelling, and crying. He didn't have to reach into their bond to know what she was feeling, and he didn't want to.

"Fight me back, damn you!" Anja cursed and tried to punch him, but he merely leaned away, and her fists met only air.

Looking over her head and further off, he saw his employer appear, drawn by the noise. She looked at them wide-eyed and approached slowly.

Anja made another attempt at tackling him, panting hard of her own exhaustion, grunting in frustration when he didn't budge an inch. Charon looked down at her, wanting to stop her, pull her into an embrace if he had to. Her tears were running freely, and her throat was hoarse from yelling. Her hair was a complete mess.

" ' .fight?!" Finally pushing herself off from him, she glared up at him, her chest rising and falling with every strained breath.

"Anja?" Leena asked carefully, making Anja whirl around to face her. "What's going on?"

Charon saw his soulmate's shoulder lower in a deep exhale, and she turned back to look up at him. Her eyes were hard as steel while she considered him for a second, and then she turned back to his employer.

"You won't fight me?" she said over her shoulder as she walked towards Leena.

Charon's skin began to prickle uncomfortably, trying to pretend he didn't know what she was going to do. Because if he knew, he would be forced to stop her. He watched as Anja walked closer to Leena, and then she turned to look at him again. With deft hands, she unholstered her 10mm gun from her hip, aiming it at his employer's head.

"How 'bout now?" she asked, and her voice was firm and angry.

Charon charged forwards, closing the distance between them in three long strides. His mind was quickly evaluating the most efficient and least painful way to disarm her. But his attack was cut short by a single, sharp gunshot.

His mind slowed, seeing Anja's face twist in surprise and pain when the side if her chest exploded in red. She dropped the weapon, hand coming to rest over the bloody wound. Stumbling forwards, her eyes lifted to meet his, her dark green ones already darkening further. He caught a sudden rush of her feelings when she reached for him through the bond; sadness, grief and guilt. But it was short. And then she slumped to the ground, heavy and lifeless.

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger. I'll try to update again soon :)