So, a certain reader of mine will be likely very happy with me when she sees this chapter is posted. I haven't updated this one in far too long. Check me for errors, please. You know who you are.
IOU
"Well, this was unexpected," the typically quiet Sven mentioned when he caught sight of his sister drunkenly sobbing against a napkin. She was dressed completely opposite to her social fears. Her arms were bare, and the fishnet hose on her legs showed more than it covered. Shaking his head, he plucked his sister up from the table. "Sorry, mages, but party time is over. I hope all of you remember your curfew?" His black eyes looked to the clock. Midnight was fast approaching.
"Curfew, schmerfew," Cana slurred, getting Sven to cock a brow at her.
Instead of getting offended, the mage merely withdrew a bamboo blowpipe. Pressing the bamboo to his lips, he shot a needle into Cana's throat. "Oi! Schwat wassa fer…" Her words faded out at the same time her eyes went blank. The Card User threw out the perfect amount of cards for each guild mage in the room. No one had time to question what was going on when Cana's cards shot a lightning shaped bolt down on everyone's heads. One second they were at the bar, the next they'd been teleported to their respective lodgings.
"How'd you do that?"
"Manipulation Venom. Think of it like Truth Serum but in a physical form. I can implant my will into my venom and get people to act as my puppets," he commented then walked down the hallway lodge. They were inside of the Mermaid Heel/Royal Guard lodge. While most of the lodgings were styled towards parties, this lodge was more regal. The furnishings weren't too much more splendid thanks to Isaac's predilection for living the same as his subjects, but he did spend a little extra coin in order to impress Kagura—like she really cared about material things.
The least regal thing at the moment was how Cana's cards had teleported drunken Risley. She was upside down on the couch. With one leg straight in the air and given the loudness of the snoring in the air, Sven and Rogue assumed she wasn't moving from that spot.
"This is a lot more up kept than our lodging," Rogue commented as Sven led them through the living area. A fire was crackling in the stone hearth, and there were no dishes in the sink. Everything was nice and tidy. From the positioning of the fur rug by the massive television to the glass dining table that would have already been smashed if it was in the Saber Tail lodge, everything was pristine.
"Felix may look big and tough, but he's kind of a housewife. Isaac does the cooking. Felix cleans. Hollis is a slob, and Colin doesn't come out of his room much. But, with Felix as a roommate I know that room is spotless," Sven explained. He withdrew a key from Katja's spike studded purse then opened up her bedroom.
Sure enough, this room was clean as well. It was also more feminine. Both of the beds were neatly made, and each of them had a beautiful canopy drawn over the top. A large woven rug was drawn between each bed, and both girls had their own desk to work at. There was even a mini fridge between the desks.
The biggest difference was the design. While Risley's looked more typical of a lodging suit, Kat's side looked more Desierto. She had spiritual sculptures on her nightstand. A stone statue sat in a meditation pose. A Bindi had been engraved on its forehead.
"So, who do you room with then?" Rogue asked as he checked out Kat's room. Her ethnicity was obvious in the room thanks to the decorations. Colors were everywhere on her side. It was almost like she lived in this lodge with how much personal decoration went into the room.
"Hollis and I share quarters," Sven explained as he laid his sister down on the canopy bed. Drool was leaking down one side of her face, and Sven did the most motherly thing possible by licking his thumb and wiping the saliva away. He looked after his sister like someone would expect a parent to. It must have been a side effect of having their parents taken from them ages ago.
Turning on his heel in that militaristic way, Sven once more settled his dark eyes upon Rogue. "Tomorrow, you may go up against the Royal Guard. If you fight my sister, will you harm her?" he asked, a serious note in his voice.
"I-I'll do my best not to hurt her, but if I have to fight her, I'll give it my all."
"Why? Do you not think my sister can beat you?" Sven snickered, flashing his teeth at Rogue.
"I-er. I dunno! I've never fought her one on one," Rogue grumbled, annoyed with Sven's mind games. He'd ask one question, and when you thought you'd answered right, he'd turn it around on you. Trickster assassin.
Nodding his head, Sven led Rogue out from the colorful land that was Katja's bedroom and into the lodge living room. From the left side of his head, he could hear the deep roar that was Risley's drunken snore. Her lips smacked together at the same time Sven's booted feet moved from runner rug to stone flooring. She was doing the one thing that the rest of the mages around needed to be doing, and that thing was sleeping.
There was no telling what and how the two kings were going to get mages into the arena tomorrow. Today, it had been via kidnapping. Tomorrow, Rogue had no clue. No one had even been able to divulge a single secret about the next day's events or battles. Rogue needed to know that information if he wanted to get back in the top three. Fairy Tail was ahead of Sabertooth. Gajeel was not going to let Rogue live it down if Fairy Tail beat them twice in two sets of games.
He needed to get himself to bed before curfew started as well.
"About my sister," Sven began. Rogue was standing in the doorway, and Sven was holding the front entry open with. While his eyes had been playful earlier, they now looked stern. "If you're truly going to help her find the slavers that are coming after our people, I suggest you know a few things about her. She doesn't trust people. As a matter of fact, she's scared of them. Katja can't be seen by more than ten people without having an anxiety attack, and if she's put on the spot, she'll freeze up. Katja is an assassin. Attention and acknowledgment isn't something she's used to. If you really want to help her, I suggest you stick to your shadows, Dragon Slayer. Katja will lead you to your reward if you trail her instead of openly following her on patrol."
"And, you think that this is only one group? What about the guys that threatened her today? Shouldn't we be looking into Hidden Mask as well?" Rogue had gotten a bad vibe off that group of mages ever since he'd seen them stroll into the same bar Katja had met the Fairy Tail mages in. They weren't here for the games. They were here for blood—Katja's blood.
Leaning against the front door, Sven explained, "Kat doesn't know it, but Isaac assigned Hidden Mask to her. He was going to mention it at the same time that he stationed you as her guardian, but you know how that ended up. Just follow my sister around. If you try to get familiar with her, she'll probably just get mad and run off."
"I've noticed," Rogue replied. His mind went back to Katja's nervousness at shaking the hands of the Saber Mages. She'd walked with her back as stiff as a board. There had been no comfort in the straightness of her shoulders or the march in her stride. The girl was odd, but years of being forced to murder people for your own life and that of your brother would do that to a person.
Nodding, Sven moved to shut the door. "Alright then, have a good night. Oh and, Rogue."
"Yeah?"
"Kiss my sister again, and I'll sell your lips to the city mortician. I hear he collects body parts from each visitor to his house."
There was something ominously pleasing about the dungeons in Castle Lance. As Katja Saab let her gauntlets scrape against the masonry units that held their dungeon ten stories into the sky, she admired the scenery outside. At one hundred feet above ground the world was a vastly different place. From her perch in the castle dungeons, Katja could admire the tops of trees she hunted in. She saw people moving like ants through the early morning city. She even caught sight of Hollis patrolling the city streets.
Everything would have been considered perfectly normal had today not been one of the main events for the Winter Grand Magic Games. So far, the day was like nothing was going on. Her eyes had opened up at six in the morning as always, and she'd crawled out of her bed.
In the kitchen, Isaac had been cooking breakfast while the six foot six beast named Felix ate one plate of everything. Sven had been quietly carving out a new blowpipe for his venom coated darts. Hollis and Colin had been playing pool. The Mermaid Heel girls had even been acting like stereotypical tourists. They lounged on the couch. They played pool with Colin and Hollis.
When Katja had asked Isaac why no one was getting ready for the day's events, he'd simply explained, "They haven't started yet." The Great King of Lancet had something under the sleeves of his trench coat, and Katja wished that she knew what it was. Sadly, the only person who kept secrets as well as an assassin was the leader of those assassins. The only way for Kat to get the information was to wait until Isaac told her.
As for now, Katja was doing another thing typical to her job's demands. The job of an assassin wasn't all stalking in the night and murdering people in their bedrooms. Katja also had to interrogate captured suspects. Thanks to her Magician's Alliance, she had just the guy waiting for her in one of the open air cells. He'd been one unlucky enough to escape her men after that foreign ship had illegally made port in Lance.
Katja couldn't wait to sink her claws into him.
Being frightening was just her style. Having to parade about in front of people and act like she enjoyed multitudes of company was not something she treasured. Katja's life was a simple routine ever since she'd become a royal assassin. She woke up, she tried to eat and if she couldn't Sven would hand feed her. After that, she would jump into the shower then head out to do her job. Life was easy when it was boring. Life was safe when it was boring. It was just a shame that Katja had to be the one to break that boring routine for so many people just two years ago.
To be honest, for her to say that she had fully adjusted to having her own bed to sleep in each night and having comrades she could eat dinner with and watch movies with would be a total lie. Katja had spent most of her life living on a pile of hay in a stone tower where the rest of Exile stayed. The team of five had lived on their own floors with no one else to comfort them. Only Katja had been permitted company, and it was because Sven was her little brother. The siblings spent their lives in magic resistant cuffs that would only be taken off when they were escorted from the city via armed knights. When they left the city, they were always reminded of a few things. "If you try anything while you're gone, we'll kill your brother first. Then, we'll find you. If you don't come back to us, we'll find you. The slave marks on your bodies say that you're Exile, owned by Duke Gatlin. No mages will ever try to help you, and any normal humans you cross will turn you over for the monetary reward. You're a tool. That's all you'll ever be." And, the five of them had spent their lives as tools ever since.
Seeing the sudden change in Civil Rights had frightened Katja more than reassured her. People were still racist despite the law, and some people rejected mages in their establishments. The only thing that helped Katja and the rest of the Royal Guard go freely in the city was their titles. They were nobles now. From slaves to nobles in two years, the change had scared them all. Adjustment wouldn't happen in a few short months. Adjustment was a long ways off in terms of Normans accepting mages.
That also meant that Katja needed to get to the bottom of this illegal slave trade as soon as possible. When the rebel slavers realized not even the Black Market could keep them safe, they might flee the country. Or, they might not. It was all an act of justice via trial and error. Kat just hoped King Isaac, Princess Adamine, and Prince Urian were right this time, too. The assassin was tired of looking over her shoulder.
Finally, Katja made it to the open air cell where her hostage was kept. Before the age of King Isaac, these cells had often been plagued by moaning and pleas of mercy. Now, they were quiet. Most of the cells were empty since half of those imprisoned by Duke Gatlin had been wrongly placed here in the first place. The quiet was far from calming as Katja peered through the iron bars to get a look at her victim.
He was blonde man. His hair was neatly shaven close to the skull, and stubble was growing against a triangular jawline. From that jawline bulged a neck made thick by some unknown physical exertion. Bands of muscle made up his shoulders, biceps, and forearms before his hands dipped behind the chair he was chained to. Across his broad chest stretched a shirt likely too small for such a stature. The shirt was ripped slightly at the collar and dirt had stained the front of it around his right pec. Likely, the man had been tossed in here and not been given an extra change of clothes since. No matter how bulgy his muscles were or how strong that jawline was, Katja couldn't stand a dirty man. That was probably the reason Isaac had said for her to pick some of his clothes up before coming to the tenth floor dungeon. Either way, Katja had a job to do.
Pulling her backpack off of her shoulder, Katja sat it on one of the wooden tables the key keeper ate his meals at. With a simple form of requip, she turned her gauntlets into leather gloves and rifled through the rucksack. Shadows danced against the table as she scrounged for all the things she'd picked up for her newest dungeon rat. She laid out a change of clothes and a box lunch before turning on her heel. The shadow of her boots against the floor seemed to ripple oddly when she opened the cell door.
Her eyes wanted to narrow and search for whatever bird had caused the shadow to ripple, but the voice of her new friend whistled, "Breakfast in cell with a cute girl to boot. My, my, you Lancet folk know how to treat yer prisoners right." He tossed surprisingly long legs out in front of him. Muddy boots slapped the stone as he blatantly looked her up from her brown leather boots to her skinny jeans. Once more, he let out a low whistle. "Aye. Aye. Never thought I'd fancy a lady so covered up, but you're a treat for this sailor's eyes."
"Flattery won't get you out of my dungeon, pirate boy. You're in my house now. We're going to play by my rules," Katja stated, her voice that seductive purr she'd been trained to wield. While Sven had been trained in the art of silence and brutality when it came to men, Katja had been trained to use her femininity to get what she wanted out of men. Tight jeans and a turtleneck sweater that hugged in all the right places often caused a man to let his guard down. Sven played bad cop with the boys and Katja played good cop. The roles were reversed dependant upon gender or the known sexual orientation of their hostage. Judging by the way this blonde sailor was eyeing her thighs, Kat assumed he was straight. Very straight when she crossed towards him.
"Aye, mistress. I can take a punch, but how long can you resist this handsome face? Lemme outta these chains, and I can show you how a pirate finds a mate," her blatantly flirty captive snickered. He even had the audacity to wink at her!
Wanting to gag a little bit, Katja kept right on walking towards the blonde. She never liked forward men. "Stand and don't speak. Like I said. My house. My rules."
"Ah. There's nothing quite like a woman who knows what she wants," he snickered, flaunting surprisingly straight, white teeth. Now, there was something Katja didn't see everyday, a pirate with nice teeth. There must have been a first for everything. Now, if she could just get him to shut up.
Attaching a chain to the Binding Cuffs around his wrists, Katja explained, "You'll shower, change, and eat. After that, you'll be giving me any information I want. Understood?" Her eyes leveled upon his.
Those blue orbs glittered with the fresh light of mischief. Interesting. Most people who spent the night one hundred feet in the air with nothing but the clothes on their back and the winter winds to talk to didn't act so cheerful. What could have possibly kept this man so upbeat that he wasn't begging to be let out of his cell?
He distracted her by sighed, "Tsk. Tsk. Haven't even got yer name, and yer already trying to get me wet. Are all Lancet women so forward as you?"
F-forward! Katja wouldn't know forward if her sexual awakening punched her in the jaw. She was afraid of people. She didn't go hitting on them willy-nilly. Why, she was positive she'd burst into flames if she ever tried to get close to another man again. That incident with Trevet all those years ago had spelled out what her life would be for eternity. Forever alone was a bit more intimidating when it was the truth instead of a joke.
Shaking her head, Katja held back the crimson inching past the scarf around her throat. This guy wasn't going to take her seriously if she blushed the whole time she spoke to him. Her job here was to collect information, not reasons to file for sexual harassment. Could she even file harassment on a prisoner? There wasn't exactly a complaint box for dungeons.
"Kraken!" Katja hollered out as she walked her captive from his cell and towards the showers. It was a simple set up and typical of the average jail shower. Overhead shower heads hung in an area enclosed only by a plastic, opaque curtain. When there had once been multitudes of prisoners trapped within these stone walls, the men would go en masse to the showers. When they were done, the women were taken next. Division of genders had been a plan to keep in-dungeon acts of violence down to a minimum, but there were always slips in the system. Lucky for this pretty boy, he was the only one taking a shower. If he dropped the soap, he wouldn't have to worry about picking it up.
Just a few feet down from the plastic sheet that kept the showers closed off, a heavy wood and metal door opened up. Weighty feet slapped rather than marched against the stone, and what looked more like a troll rather than a real human being made his presence known, the blonde pirate hissed, "Your punishment is cruel, mistress. Truly, but you'll have to do better than that. I have a thing for bearded men."
"He's not your punishment," Kat gritted out. She ignored the chatty prisoner and turned towards Kraken. True to the pirate's comment, Kraken did have the most impressive beard Katja had ever seen. It was so long it came to the center of the short man's fat gut. The mustache part of his beard was braided with colored ties. Most people would have taken one look at the key keeper and passed him off as an eccentric homeless man. Katja on the other hand knew Kraken as a kind of odd uncle. In her years trapped within the fourth floor of her tower, Kraken had been her caretaker. Thus, the reason he was the one overseeing her prisoner.
"Been a while since you've had guests over," the bearded, fat man stated. His eyes yellowed from smoking anything he could get his hands on seemed to twinkle as he looked at the pirate. "What'll ye have me do to the pretty boy? I haven't torn off any phalanges in a while." The man wriggled his stubby, round fingers in the air for emphasis.
Shaking her head, Katja sighed, "Why did I ever buy you that dictionary for your birthday? Now, your threats are creepier than usual." When Kraken just replied with a black toothed grin, Katja handed over her chain. "I need him bathed and clothed."
"Bathed and clothed? Where's your sense of adventure, Kitten? Why, this one's so pretty, I could mar his face up with as many scars as on my own wrinkled skin, and women would still be crooning. Lemme at least take off a toe," Kraken taunted, doing his part to freak out her captive.
So far, it didn't look like it was working. The pirate was bearing the goofiest grin on his face. "Aw. Come on, Kitten. Let him take a toe. No one's going to be spending much time looking at my feet anyway. I wear boots!" he pointed out. Hiking his leg, he wriggled a foot around in the same way Kraken had wiggled his fingers. Great. These two were going to get along. Just perfect.
Sighing, Katja thrust the chains harder against Kraken's fat stomach. "Now, Kraken."
"Fine. Fine," the old man laughed, a deep sound that caused his whole body to jiggle. "I'll give you the pretty boy back once he's been washed."
"Thank you," she huffed. As soon as Kraken dipped behind the plastic curtain with his chained shower mate in tow, she flopped down onto a wood stool. So far, this interrogation wasn't looking so hot. Typically, after spending a full day in the above ground dungeon people were begging to hand out information. He hadn't been fed, and he couldn't have slept comfortably chained to the chair. As a matter of fact, he couldn't have slept comfortably with the Lancet winter winds pulling through the entire side of the cell.
Unlike the normal dungeon, the Open Air cells had an entire wall taken out. The offering was that a captive could either jump to his death or give up information. A few days of starvation, dehydration, and trying to sleep in the cold were something that could break the toughest of men. The average punishment was to wait for a week before the interrogation. The only reason Kat was having to interrogate so early was because of the mage kidnappings and murders. If things weren't having to be so rushed, the pirate mage wouldn't be snickering and flirting. He'd be begging for mercy.
Scowling, Katja reached over towards her backpack. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of her mother's hijab as she waited on Kraken and the nameless pirate. What would her mother do if she was in a situation like this? Malia had been a gentle, patient woman, and while her role as an assassin had torn her to pieces, she'd been good at her job. A rushed interrogation with a horny pirate wouldn't have deterred Malia from getting her information. But, there was a key difference between Malia and Katja. Malia had been able to touch people without poisoning them or passing venom.
She wasn't afraid of men. Beauty didn't faze Malia. Malia had been a pillar of strength. What did that make Kat? The wannabe assassin who was afraid of her own skin? That thought hadn't bothered Katja back when she'd been a mindless murderer on the side of evil. Now that the Princess, Prince, and King had given her a conscience, all she wanted to do was dig her own grave. Too bad she didn't have the lady balls to kill herself. Sven was Katja's last remaining link to the living world. Without him Katja would have ended her life a long time ago.
So many nights had Katja spent staring at her brother's blowpipe. While Sven was the only person who could cure her poison, he was also the only person who could ever envenom her. Katja had plotted her own suicide countless times. "I have to take care of Sven first," she would whisper as she laid in her darkest moments. Her brother was her guiding light, and he was younger than she.
Katja had to be taken care of by her little brother. She couldn't even be a proper sister because of this damned skin.
Sighing, Katja studied the shadow her body cast on the floor. It couldn't be helped, and she shouldn't wallow in self-loathing. She wasn't the only one who had it bad. Every family she'd broken, her own brother, and the rest of what was left of Exile had their problems. Katja had no right to complain, but she wished that she could without feeling guilty about it.
Her gloved hand released her mother's hijab, and Katja pulled out an apple Felix had tossed to her before she'd left to the dungeons. Katja had yet to master her skin. Feeding herself was still difficult without the assistance of silverware. But, people had faith in her. Katja had even more reasons to live now that her kingdom was liberated, now that she was a noblewoman, and now that she had people to fight beside.
Using Requip, Katja switched from glove to bare hand. She felt the tight skin of the crimson apple underneath her fingers and focused. She would not make it decay. She would not make it decay. She would not—
The curtain of the showers moved, and her pirate hostage stepped out with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. "Hey, Kitten, where's me clothes? Your hunchback doesn't have them with him," he hollered out.
At the sound of his voice, Katja's focus broke. Immediately, her sweaty palms rotted the apple. Decaying remnants splattered against the floor. She could have sworn that their shadows shifted unnaturally when she leaped from her seat. "Get back behind that curtain!" she yipped, tan face reddened at the sight of all those unrestrained muscles rippling before her eyes.
"Whoops! Sorry 'bout that, lass," he laughed, throwing his hands up in the air innocently. The movement was so coy that Katja almost didn't believe it when his towel fell completely to the floor. Strong thighs were laid out for her eyes to take in, and his manhood was on display for all the gods to see as he laughed at her flabbergasted expression.
"Q-quit jerking around and put your clothes on! Kraken, what are you doing letting a prisoner run loose?" Her body shifted to change her bare hands back to gauntlets, but when a hand stunted the movement of her hand, Kat gaped up at the prisoner.
The pirate's voice was a sultry purr as he whispered, "Lass, if I was jerking around, I'm sure you wouldn't want me to go running loose. Now, be a good kitten and get me the keys. I might not hurt you if you partici—"
The pirate's body abruptly went limp behind Katja. He dropped like someone had sucked the skeleton out of him. When Kat got the chance to glimpse behind her, she tripped on the hostage's outstretched arm.
"Katja!" Rogue barked out. The chair Kat had been sitting on fell out of his hands when he jumped towards her. Instinctively, his hand reached out to grab for her. He snagged onto the long sleeve of her sweater before tripping on the pirate's limp form. Before either one of them knew it, they were going down together. Their bodies splat flat on the floor as Rogue grabbed ahold of something soft and… "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Sorry for—You pervert!" The requip that had been stunted by the vice grip of the hostage's grip on her wrist finally took place. With a wicked backhand, Katja flung Rogue's body against the other wall of the dungeon. Her arms jerked up to cover her breasts as she yelped, "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?"
Rogue's body looked like it was trying to relocate its center of gravity when he braced himself on a stone wall. "You're missing the event!" he hissed out. "Isaac sent me up here to look for you. Lucky that I showed up in time. Did he do anything to you?"
Scowling, Katja rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She'd changed from gauntlets back to gloves after slapping Rogue into an alternate dimension. Her eyes were taking in the sight with bewilderment. Should she be mad that Isaac sent Rogue after her? It was a probable emotion, but right now, her mind was too freaked out about the naked body the pirate had been pressing against her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from that masculine part of his anatomy as he laid spread eagle on the floor. "Never trust anyone who tries to touch bare skin to you, Katja. They will harm you in ways you can never comprehend," her mother's voice reminded through her head.
All of the blood rushed out of Kat's face. Her legs could no longer support her body when a wicked memory of her mother slammed into her mind. The Duke, her mother. Screaming, fighting, biting. Cruel laughter and bare skin. Katja's hands jerked up to cradle her head as she tried to block it out. She'd been there. She'd been right there, and she hadn't been able to do anything.
"Katja!" a voice called out from somewhere in the back of the memory. She could barely hear it. Her head was wrapped around the memory of her mother, the memory of her mother's—
"Katja!" Rogue yelled. His voice forced her eyes to open. When she saw Rogue's face inches from hers, she tried to run off, but he blocked her path by throwing up a wall of darkness. As a matter of fact, the more clarity came back to her head, the more Kat realized Rogue had enveloped her in a veil of black. His shadows twisted and writhed around them like black flames. They sealed off the unconscious man passed out on the ground. "Katja, what's wrong?"
Shaking her head, she forced herself to swallow a lump in her throat. "N-Nothing. I just… I just remembered something I shouldn't have. Where's Kraken?" Before Rogue could stop her, she hastily got back on both feet. She was actually thankful when he didn't reach out to touch her. She was even more thankful when he let her walk to where the shower curtain had been pulled back.
What she found when she stepped behind the curtain got her brows to rise. Immediately dropping to one knee, Katja checked Kraken for a pulse. Sure enough, he was still alive. The pirate hadn't killed him? Why not? He was a captive. Killing Kraken and Katja would have been the safer option than letting them live.
"Katja, are you sure that you're—What—I mean—Who is that?" Rogue tried to correct with no grace. Then again, that was the usual reaction when anyone got a good look at Kraken. The man's face was a collection of burn wounds, sword scars, and facial fuzz. His body was nothing but a beer belly recently developed when Isaac had become king. Kraken had finally been fed and with enough money to buy excess meals. Sure enough, the man pursued his passion for chewing on things as soon as he got his first paycheck. His stomach was only making his troll-like appearance worse.
"Kraken," she explained, running her hands over his bald head. His skin was bumpy and hardened from various burn wounds. Though it looked nasty, Kraken was probably cleaner than the tourists traveling the city down below. "He took care of me when I was little, is pretty much that weird uncle who acts more like a kid than the kids do."
"He was supposed to help you take care of the pirate?"
Instead of answering, Katja nodded her head. "He'll be up in a couple minutes. I've never known a man to be able to keep him down for long. Can you get his legs?"
Without asking first, Rogue picked the man's short, stubby legs up from the ground while Kat grabbed his upper body. The two of them hefted the surprisingly heavy fat man over to a chair. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Leave him here. He'll be pissed that I ditched him without telling him first, but if I give him food, I'm sure he'll forgive me. Now, where is the pirate? I need him locked up before…" Her words faded out when she couldn't see the blonde man anywhere.
"Don't worry. I already locked him up."
"Good," Kat sighed. She wasn't too certain she wanted to look at the undressed mage. No one had ever overthrown her so easily. She'd been too shocked to react, and for some reason, the mage knew not to touch her skin. Either he was more informed than she knew, or Katja had been too freaked out by her situation to act. Hopefully, it was the latter. Pirate slavers that knew her secret were more dangerous than those who didn't.
Turning to her backpack, Katja pulled out a notepad and pencil. She hastily scribbled down a note for Kraken while Rogue asked, "Are you sure you're okay? Last time I snuck up on you, you were angrier than this."
"I'm fine," she blurted out. Quickly, she clicked her favorite fuzzy, purple pen then withdrew a light blue sticky note from the notepad before scribbling information down on a pink note. Her hands were moving quick, and her shoulders were so tense they couldn't be comfortable.
Either way, Rogue didn't say a word. He let Katja stick the blue note on Kraken's forehead before putting the pink one of the box lunch. When he peered around her to look at them, the blue one explained, "Sorry for leaving you high and dry. I put the pirate in his cell, but I have to go to the games and do patrol since I was late getting there." On the pink note, she said, "Here's my apology. Isaac made it, so it has to be good. Thank you for helping me out today. I love you. P.S. If you're still sore about it later, I promise to sneak you some moonshine from the still Felix has in the back of his house. He thinks he's hiding it, but no one hides from Katja Saab." In purple ink she had drawn a cute heart as the dot for her exclamation point. So, assassins could be girlie. It was either that or she was so nervous she was acting out of character. Rogue had thought that he'd come to the rescue at the perfect time. Had he not? He'd been at the pirate's back as the mage had held Katja, so he couldn't see where the man's other hand had been. Surely, with those chains on all he could have held was Katja's wrist.
"And, you locked his cell?" Katja blurted out.
"Yeah. The keys are on that hook." He pointed his thumb in the direction of the door leading into the heart of the dungeon.
"Good. I-er-I…"
"Yeah?"
Looking for all the world like she was going to burst into flames from the redness in her face, Katja ground out, "Thank you. I… I owe you."