After The Fall
His eyes flew open with alarming suddenness — Ema, who had been watching him, felt a shock course through her but she wasn't sure why. After all, this was... what she'd been waiting for, hadn't she?
He was blinking up at the ceiling, his eyes blank and glazed over with... something. His hands, until now placed firmly by his side, curled inwards and his fingers caught the white sheet in their grasp — Ema should have probably told him to relax, knew she should get someone but she was frozen with fascination.
His head was turning now, turning towards the bedside table; one of the hands released the sheet and he reached out to something, surprising her. After all, he'd just woken up. She expected a question or two, maybe some demands, but there was no way she could have predicted this. Ema squinted to try and see what his fingers were grasping at but it had already been enveloped in his hand.
He stirred. Ema's eyes flew to his face where the lacerations deepened as he hissed. She opened her mouth to tell him to relax but he pushed himself up on his hands, growling in pain as he did so.
"Stop it," she commanded. "You need to rest."
He didn't listen. He was sitting up now, something she knew he shouldn't do because… She frowned when she found she was unable to remember why. It didn't matter anyway — she just knew it was bad for him to put strain on his muscles. He needed to stop.
"Stop it!" she said more sternly this time but it had no effect. He wasn't even looking at her.
Ema opened her mouth to say his name but found herself at a loss… She knew him, didn't she? She couldn't possibly be concerned about a mere stranger. But… why couldn't she remember his name? That was weird. It wasn't even as if his name was on the tip of her tongue. She just… didn't know.
Her thoughts scattered as he swung his legs over the side of his bed, his fingers tightening around whatever he had in his hand. It didn't matter if she knew him or not — if he got up now, he would tear his wounds. Yes, that was it. It was coming back to her. He'd just had surgery and she knew he would rip his stitches open if he got up now.
"Where are you going?" she cried.
He didn't listen. What the hell was he doing, ignoring her?
"Hey!" she called with alarm as he pushed himself to his feet and hissed in pain, bending over to clutch at his abdomen. Ema swiped at his arm and stumbled back in horror when her hand went right through him.
What the hell?
With the horrifying realisation that he couldn't see her came a gentle tug on her midsection and Ema was yanked backwards by an unseen force. The air whooshed past, her clothes blew around violently and in the growing shadows, Ema heard his scream of pain. The sound ripped at her heart and she cried out, fighting against the hand pulling her back…
"Let GO of me!" she yelled but the grip only tightened, the speed only increased until he was completely gone from her sight and she was left suspended in the air. In a box of starless night, Ema spun this way and that, screaming at it to take her back, that he needed her…
And then, as if it had taken pity on her, the darkness faded into white light and she stumbled into groundless territory. Disorientated, she looked around and that's when she saw him: his form was doubled over with pain, his hand clutching at his abdomen and in between his fingers, she saw deep red stains. He collapsed against the wall, his breathing shallow and his eyes shut tight as if he was trying to calm himself.
"What are you doing?" she screamed. "Where are you going?"
When his eyes flew open, she thought he could finally see and hear her but then he grit his teeth and pushed himself away from the wall and stumbled onwards, his breathing turning ragged from pain. Ema watched with her heart in her throat as he limped past her, completely oblivious to her presence, and called out to him desperately.
She ran to stand before him, she screamed in his face till her voice was almost gone; she tore at his clothes and she clutched at his arm but he didn't even glance her way. He limped on, the blood dripping from his fingers, and she followed.
She followed and she cried.
.'.
It was abysmally late in the morning when Ema finally awoke. Her sprawled out frame on the big four-poster bed was an amusing sight to Klavier who'd been checking on her every hour, though she wasn't aware of it. She rolled over onto her back and blinked up at the ceiling, somewhat confused by the lingering emotion of sadness surging through her. The air stung her eyes and she touched them gingerly with the tips of her fingers, surprised to find them wet.
Why was she crying?
As soon as this question popped in her mind and she blinked, a million images flickered through her mind in an unsettling mix that were gone as soon as she opened her eyes again. Perplexed by this new experienced, Ema frowned and tried to remember the dream that had evoked these pictures but all she got was an overwhelming sense of sorrow. Knowing there was no use (and no sense) in trying to remember something that would make her sad, Ema shifted onto her side. What with everything that had gone on recently, it stood to reason she would dream negatively.
Ema focused her attention off everything and focused on her surroundings. Her mouth pressed together in an annoyed line when the first thing that registered were the damn birds twittering outside. Cursing them well into oblivion, she dragged herself into a sitting position and blinked. With a yawn, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grumbled to herself, asking what manner of bird would be twittering at this infernal hour. Of course, when she turned to look at the clock on her bedside table, her mood deteriorated. It was almost noon.
"Ugh. I can't believe I—ouch!"
In the process of folding her legs, Ema jumped at the stab of pain in her thigh. Annoyed with herself, she spied the slight trickle of blood that escaped the wound there — it was one of the deeper injuries she'd sustained during her kidnapping. Having such a visible and painful reminder of those missing moments in her life was unsettling and Ema wiped at it angrily, hissing as her fingers irritated the healing skin around the gash. She waited to see if it would bleed again and when it didn't, she let out a heavy sigh.
"Get up," she muttered to herself.
In compliance, her legs swung over the side of the bed and she stood up, pausing for a moment to listen for any sound that indicated Klavier was nearby. When all she got was silence, Ema padded across the floor to the bathroom where she splashed her face with cold water, took a moment out to dab at the stain of blood on her leg and brushed her teeth. She focused her attention on the mirror, thinking she should cringe at the frightful sight of her hair and the haggard look of her face; the bruises and cuts were healing but still very much visible, reminding her of the one thing she was trying to ignore.
"Nope," she muttered casually. "Not going to think about it."
Her stomach growled, as if it knew that she needed a distraction. Grateful to it for the diversion, Ema splashed some more water over her face, patted it dry and left her bedroom. She was still dressed in her t-shirt and shorts but given that Klavier had seen her half-dead, she didn't care much about her appearance.
The house was silent as she padded down the grand staircase and for a moment she considered calling for Klavier but changed her mind when she realised he'd want to make her breakfast himself — he might be resting and she certainly didn't want to disturb him. After the last few days, he needed all the rest he could get.
Though he denied it, Ema had a feeling Klavier was going out of his way to act perfectly normal and she suspected that he was taking on her workload as well as his own. She was still on leave from work (given the repeated attempts on her life, they'd thought it only natural that she should take a few weeks off to recover) but that didn't mean she couldn't help them with other things — like finding Deston.
Since Rafael's execution almost a week ago, Deston had been missing. According to Seren, they'd tried all the places they thought he'd be, including his home, but they couldn't find him and if he was at home, he wasn't answering. His phone was off, he hadn't turned up to work in days and he hadn't contacted any of them. The whole thing was so out of character that it was all Ema could do to stop herself from ripping her hair out. Every time she thought of him (which was often), she remembered the way he had looked when he'd shot the glass down, the way he'd thrown Raoul and Seren back like they were nothing but rag dolls. The madness and fury that he'd exuded had shaken her to the core; never had she believed him capable of such anger.
And yet somehow, it made sense, didn't it? For someone who was always laid back and laughing, he must be hiding a deep and passionate nature. It would take a lot to anger a man like that and when someone managed…
Well, she'd seen what it turned him into, hadn't she?
"—know Ema was—"
Ema snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her name dropped amid multiple voices, their inaudible conversation floating on the air to her left. With a frown, she turned to follow it but froze when she got close enough to hear who it was and what they were saying.
"—know why Irina would let Ema go if she really wants to kill her?" Raoul sounded irritated.
Ema inched closer to the door, taking care to be as stealthy as possible. She didn't want them to know she was listening because she had a funny feeling they'd clam up and pretend they'd been talking about what to make her for breakfast.
"I don't know but I don't think the weirdo was chattin' it, Ray," Seren returned. "Have you considered that maybe Ema was meant to relay a message to us but she forgot?"
Raoul snorted. "And why did she forget? The bastards overdosed her with rohypnol!"
"You said Sloan's an idiot," Seren argued. "Maybe it was a mistake."
"He has a point," Klavier said suddenly, surprising Ema. "I have come to learn enough of Rafael's nature to understand that he would not lie about something like this."
"Have you asked Ema if she remembers anything?" Raoul asked.
"Nein," Klavier sighed. "I do not wish to remind her."
"That's fair enough," Seren allowed. "If there was a message, I don't reckon we need to bust our arses trying to guess what it is."
Ema felt her stomach tighten into a million knots. Her fingers subconsciously touched the healing injuries on her face and she felt a wave of sickness at her inability to remember how it had happened. It crawled through her blood stream, seeping into the thin layers of her skin. That her body and mind had forsaken her, that it refused to obey her desire to remember was frightening — it was almost as if her kidnappers had turned her own body against her.
"Does the memory not eventually return after a rohypnol overdose?" Klavier asked and Ema forced herself to focus on his voice.
"It does," Seren said. "But it can take time which, frankly speaking, we don't have."
"We can station an army around Ema," Raoul said, "but I got a feeling they'd find a way around it."
"It's the nature of these crime rings," Seren added. "Their existence depends on slipping through the cracks."
"He obviously had someone check us out," Raoul spat venomously. "The bastard knew about Maralie."
"I had him on lockdown," Klavier mused, rejoining the conversation. "I do not understand how he could have managed this when he was..." There was a pause and then, "Ah."
"He had the guards, didn't he?" Raoul said, apparently voicing what had just occurred to Klavier. "Obviously some fucker slipped in."
Ema bit her lip when she heard Klavier sigh heavily.
"We're gonna need Lowes and Gale both. Richards alone ain't enough," Raoul said. "They understood Rainsford. Sounds like this Irina chick is daddy's little girl. Ain't no doubt she's gonna be just as fucked up."
There was a pause in which Ema pulled back a little, worried that they knew she was there (a paranoia she knew arose only from guilt) but there were no footsteps. Instead, she thought she heard a click, some rattling and then another, louder click.
"Do you have to smoke that now?" Seren complained.
"Get your viridian panties outta your ass, Aded," Raoul said.
"That stuff stinks."
"Well deal with it," Raoul retorted. "I need this."
"I thought you were going to quit?" Seren said though it was more of a reminder than a question.
"Here's an idea," Raoul said sarcastically. "You quit whinin' and I'll quit smokin'."
Ema rubbed her lips thoughtfully, half-surprised and half-amused. She'd had no idea that Raoul smoked — it certainly explained why he carried that Gavinner-branded lighter around. She made a mental note to tell him what smoking did to the human body and if (when) that didn't work, she would force him to stop.
"I am considering appealing Simon's case to the court," Klavier said suddenly, catching her attention.
"Thought you might," Seren said. "It should be pretty easy now what with the evidence in his favour."
"Yeah," agreed Raoul. "Richards is more than willin' to prove his innocence now. He's paid for his part in the kidnapping."
"The only problem I have," Klavier continued, "is that I am uncertain of what he might do to himself."
"I don't think he'll do anything like that," Seren reassured him.
"Doesn't the dude have a daughter?" Raoul enquired.
"Ja." Klavier sighed heavily again. "You are right of course. All I have to do is tell him about Lana and I am certain he will fight tooth and nail to be here for her."
"When are you going to tell him?"
"I do not think it my place," Klavier said. "I think I will have Gale inform him."
"You need'a move as quickly as possible," Raoul said. Ema heard him exhale in a manner highly reminiscent of a smoker and just then she smelt the first wave of smoke as it drifted out into the hallway.
"If Rafael knew about the girl, his daughter will as well," Seren said. "It just seems stupid to put it off any longer."
"Man's got a right to know," Raoul said, his voice quiet.
Silence fell again, punctuated only by Raoul's rhythmic exhaling which, after a while, also stopped. Ema stood there for what felt like forever, waiting for them to talk again and when they did, she tensed.
"Any luck on Des?" Seren asked.
Another pause. Then—
"Nein. But I am certain he is at his beach house. The last two times I have visited it, his lights have been on – I am assuming they were coming from his television. He is not answering, however."
Raoul let out a breath of ragged frustration. "Fuckin' hell, man," he snapped. "What the hell's he hidin' from us for?"
"You know Deston," Seren said quietly.
There was a pause in which they all seemed to understand exactly what Seren meant and Ema could only guess.
"You tried takin' Ema to talk to him?" Raoul asked. "He's got a soft spot for her."
She edged closer to the door at the sound of her name.
"Ja," Klavier said wearily. "The idea has crossed my mind."
"Ema's not feeling too great herself," Seren said. "I don't think we should stress her out with this."
"Ya think she ain't stressed out already?"
"I know, Ray," Seren sighed. "But you know what I mean."
"Yeah."
Ema waited for them to say something but it appeared the boys had fallen into their thoughts again. Several minutes passed in which she heard the sound of Raoul's lighter clicking again, followed by a deep exhaling but she was barely paying attention — her mind was whirring.
It was true, she had definitely developed a special friendship with Deston — he had saved her life again and again after all — and though she was nowhere near arrogant enough to assume that she could get through to him where the others couldn't, Ema knew it was her duty to at least try.
However, before she could make her presence known, Klavier spoke again, stopping her in her tracks.
"I am worried for Ema."
Her heart sank at the weariness and anxiety of his tone — she didn't want to be a burden on him.
"I know, mate," Seren said with a heavy sigh. "We all are."
"I want to take her away from here," Klavier continued. "Just for a couple of weeks. She needs the time away and there is too much danger here."
"Take her," Seren encouraged. "That's a really good idea actually."
"I do not know how she will react," Klavier said after a pause. "Our relationship is not public and I do not know if she will be ready for a trip away with me when there is a high risk of exposure."
"I think Ema's a little bit beyond that, K," Seren said.
"She has asked me to take things slow—"
"Listen, Klavier," Raoul cut in. "You two don't exactly have a normal relationship. I see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. She's ready to take that step."
"I am not so sure," Klavier said a little uncertainly and surprisingly, Ema found this upsetting. She wanted Klavier to be confident when it came to her and this insecurity really tugged at her heart strings.
Does this mean I am ready and willing to go away with him?
She waited for the argument against this idea to manifest itself but her inner voice of reason was silent.
Ema blinked.
Wow. I am ready.
"You both need the time away, Klavier," Raoul said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"Don't worry about Deston," Seren reassured him. "We'll take care of him."
There was another moment of silence and then someone let out a groan of frustration but who it was, Ema couldn't make out.
"Everythin's a fuckin' mess!" Raoul snapped. "This ring is gunnin' for Ema, Tessa almost died and even though the dick is dead, he's set something off and we ain't got any idea what!"
"We'll get 'em," Seren said firmly. "We just need to keep our heads on straight."
"Ain't ever wanted to hit a chick but I swear to God, when I get my hands on this bitch…"
There was another pause but this time Ema didn't stick around — she knew this silence was permanent. Without a sound, the detective rounded on the spot and walked away.
.'.
When Ema returned to the same room, they were all still there and their eyes widened at the sight of the tray in her hands. She ignored the momentarily shocked silence while setting it down and glared at Raoul, whose heavily booted foot was resting on the frame of the table.
"Buffoon."
Raoul's eyebrow quirked and he shifted his foot from the table to over his thigh. Seren laughed and Klavier, who'd been watching with a hint of apprehension, smiled. Satisfied that her demand for appropriate decorum was met, Ema set about pouring the relevant drinks for all of them — over the past couple of days, she'd learnt their beverage of choice; tea for Klavier and Seren (she figured it was a European thing) and coffee for Raoul. He'd asked for beer one morning and Ema's outrage (and subsequent rant) had him hastily retracting that request. He hadn't asked for anything more adventurous than raw coffee since.
"When did you wake up, Ema?" Klavier asked.
Ema paused a moment to hand Seren his tea and then glanced at Raoul who was already reaching out for his coffee. Seeing her withering glare, the red-head leaned back, throwing his hands up as if in surrender and laughed.
"Whoa, chick!" he exclaimed. "Chill."
"I woke up a bit ago," Ema said, turning to Klavier then who was, much to her exasperation, examining her intently. Ever since the execution, Klavier had taken it upon himself to watching her like a hawk every time she was in the immediate vicinity. Whatever it was that made him so paranoid – the threats Rafael had thrown at her or the fact that she was still recovering – it was really beginning to grow wearisome.
Ema suppressed a frown while pouring the coffee into the black mug. She knew it was because he cared that he was so concerned but it was precisely because of this that it lay so heavily on her shoulders; she didn't want him worrying about her all the time. He had enough on his plate as it was. Deston's sudden blockade was a lot more important.
"Here," Ema said, picking up the mug and handing it to Raoul. "Hope you choke on it."
"Love you too, babe," Raoul said casually, taking it and sniffing at it appreciatively (though Ema had previously stated it was his way of trying to ascertain if she'd poisoned it — a wise move).
"Here, Klavier," she said, holding his tea out to him.
But Klavier surprised her by getting up from his seat and coming to sit by her; her eyes widened when he took the cup from her hand and set it down on the table before them and pulled her into a half hug, dropping a kiss to her forehead.
"How many times must I remind you? You should not be doing this for us, Ema," he chided gently. "You are meant to rest."
Heat rose to her cheeks and she was almost afraid to look at Raoul and Seren; they'd taken to teasing her more often these days as Klavier's affection had become more and more blatant. She still wasn't used to it (their teasing certainly didn't help her get accustomed to it) but she was hoping time would soon remedy that.
Now however, the boys remained astonishingly quiet; Seren was even looking away. Not Raoul though – he was staring at them boldly and Ema threw him another scowl that did absolutely nothing for his shamelessness.
"What're you doin' up so early anyway?" he said, running a finger over the silver hoop in his ear.
"Early?" Ema echoed, scowling. "It's almost midday!"
"You're on holiday," Raoul reminded her. "And that means sleeping in, lazing about and ordering your boyfriend to do whatever naughty things you wan—"
Before Ema could react, Seren's hand shot out and caught him around the head, making the aristocrat spill some of the coffee in his lap. The dark liquid was apparently too warm for his leather-clad legs because he leapt up, cursing as only he could, before he turned on Seren who had resumed his relaxed pose and was drinking his tea as if nothing had happened.
"Mother of—!" Raoul glared down at his pants before shooting a deadly look at Seren. "What the fuck was that for?"
Ema watched with wide-eyed surprise as Seren slowly set the tea down on the table and reclined into the sofa. He crossed one leg over the other and draped an arm across the back before shaking his head sombrely and sighing.
"You can't talk to Ema like that, mate," Seren said.
The detective bit on her tongue to suppress a laugh: Raoul looked positively murderous.
"Listen, you British prick," Raoul snapped, pointing at Seren. "I don't care how they do it over—"
"Before you start on the British thing, stop," Seren interrupted. "There are foul-mouths over there too. I'm just saying, she's Klavier's girl. You have to show her some respect now."
"You want to see some respect?" Raoul demanded.
Seren raised an eyebrow, entirely unfazed by the threatening sound of Raoul's voice. "That would be nice."
"How about I deliver some well-earned respect to your nose?"
Ema's amusement, which had been rising with each passing second threatened to erupt; there was something about the way Raoul stood there, his leather pants dripping with coffee, one hand still clutching the black mug and the menacing look on his handsome face that rang of comedy.
"Chillax, mate," Seren said casually. "I didn't insult your family honour. Just told you to have some manners."
Ema clapped a hand over her mouth; no matter how much she argued with Raoul, she didn't think she'd want to mock him when he was so obviously annoyed. He'd turn all of that aggravation on her and would definitely succeed in dragging her into that hole of frustration with him.
Suddenly, Raoul raised the cup of coffee and Ema knew exactly what he was going to do: she was instantly on her feet, pointing at him warningly.
"Raoul Adagio, if you fling that at him, I'll tear your arm off!"
Raoul looked at her in some surprise before his face settled back into annoyance. After one last glance at Seren's smiling face, he growled, "Fuck it, man."
With a great huff, he slammed the cup on the table and stalked off, grumbling to himself (the curses emphasised greatly for their benefit). Ema smirked to herself, finding his momentary irritation very comforting – after all, he constantly went out of his way to wind her up as much as he could. With a widening grin, the detective glanced at Klavier who was laughing heartily.
"Revenge is sweet, eh, Ema?" Seren said with a perfect grin and Ema let out a little laugh.
Klavier's fingers wrapped around her wrist and Ema found herself being gently pulled back into the small space next to him. Without a word of protest, she fell into it and smiled at him in reassurance; he was staring at her affectionately and she remembered the plans he'd voiced earlier. Looking at him now, she could never have guessed that he was feeling insecure about her feelings for him. It was a reminder of his ability to mask his emotions when he needed to — it was obvious he'd learnt to control how much his face gave away after all those years in the spotlight and in the courtroom.
It was a positive thing, she supposed, but she wondered why it still felt as though he exercised that with her. That possibility bothered her — she wanted him to be open with her like he'd said he would be. Ema didn't doubt him because she knew that he would never have promised her something he couldn't uphold. Ema wasn't sure how she was so certain of this fact but something about him had become very obvious in the last few months: he would never sink so low as to deceive anyone. She knew she could count on him.
The only thing Ema wanted was for him to know he could do the same.
"I don't want to interrupt a tender moment and all that but I kind of wanted to talk to you guys about something."
Seren's voice cut into her thoughts with such abruptness that she jumped as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. Her head snapped to the Gavinner, her muscles in knots, but then she saw that he was smiling at her without a hint of mockery and the tension instantly evaporated. Seren lifted the tea off the table and took a sip, nodding at her approvingly to show his appreciation just like he'd been doing for the past week.
Ema took a moment to consider the quietest Gavinner. Her initial impression of Seren had been that he was just as open and witty as the rest of them and his claim that he disliked the limelight had just been a joke. However, the time she'd spent around the Gavinners in recent weeks had taught her that that, in fact, was true — he was quiet (though when he decided to join in the teasing, he was almost as bad as the rest) and he was a true gentleman. She'd lost count of the number of many times he'd snapped at someone (usually Raoul) for not minding his language around Ema.
What's more, he'd taken to talking about Maralie more and more — beneath the admiration he often verbalised, she sensed a deep anxiousness. He was falling for her hard and with it came the heavy responsibility of worrying about her — something that Ema both found endearing and upsetting. The former because Seren's intensely kind nature was coming through and the latter because of the circumstances under which his relationship with Mara was evolving. Though having had no time to actually find Mara and talk to her, Ema doubted Seren had told her about the threats Rafael had made; he wasn't the type to thrust that sort of information on a woman. Ema might have been worried by this almost sexist behaviour — after all, women could take care of themselves — and she would have made him very much aware of her displeasure if it wasn't for the fact that there was absolutely no way that Seren would disrespect any woman like that. His considerate and compassionate character was so blatant that Ema could only be touched.
It wasn't that he'd gone out of his way to ensure she wasn't crying or that he was there to hand her the box of tissues when and if she did. It was that when she was sitting around, deep in dark thoughts, Seren seemed to guess exactly what was on her mind without her having to say anything about it. It was that he slowly slid into a seat next to her and started whining about his silly fan problems (often making her laugh) or asking for ways to make Mara fall as hopelessly in love with him as he was with her. It was the little things he did, taking the focus off anything that was remotely serious without turning into a downright pain in the ass like a certain red-head she knew. It was that he made her feel better without seeming like he'd put any effort into it at all.
"Ema?"
Her head snapped up. Seren was searching her expression and she instantly smiled, hoping the action would negate any outward show of emotion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Klavier's eyes fixed on her face too and she suppressed a sigh of exasperation.
"Yes?" she said.
"What you thinking?"
Ema's lips pursed as she thought of a way to suggest what she'd thought of while she'd made their drinks. How could she reveal what she had in mind without making it obvious that she'd been eavesdropping on their conversation? She couldn't just bring it up randomly — they were all highly intelligent fops and they'd see through her facade immediately.
With a tired look that she had no trouble conjuring, Ema looked at Klavier. "Would you guys stop fussing? You're acting like I'm some damsel in distress that's going to faint any second. In case you don't remember, I'm a detective."
Klavier cracked a smile. "I have not forgotten."
"Then you should know I'm not scared. It's my job to deal with freaks like that."
Seren sighed. "Ema, it's admirable that you—"
"It's not admirable," Ema interrupted sharply. "It's the truth." There was a short silence and both Gavinners glanced at each other. Ema, however, didn't give them a chance to argue. "I didn't come here to tell you I'm not scared," she stated bluntly. "I came to talk about what we're going to do next."
"I like that – a woman of action."
They all turned towards the sound of that drawling voice: Raoul entered the room, swiping at his pants and flashing a smile at Ema.
"Ema: our resident tigress."
Ema just rolled her eyes.
"Liebling," Klavier started, his voice wary. "I do not think you should be worrying about what to do next. You need time to recover from everything that has happened the past two weeks."
"That's all really sweet and everything," Ema said dryly, "but I doubt Fräulein Irina is going to give me time."
"You don't needa worry about her, babe," Raoul said casually, falling into the sofa beside her. "We're gonna find the bitch."
"Uh huh." Ema bit her lip thoughtfully. "Tell me something, boys: exactly how are you going to find her?"
A sharply ironic silence met her question in which they all glanced at one another again. Klavier sighed heavily and squeezed her shoulder while Raoul turned to face her directly. However, before he could speak to her, Seren cut in, surprising her.
"I know that it seems pretty impossible, Ema," he said quietly, swirling the tea around in his cup. "But this is our job. Specifically mine and Raoul's."
Ema frowned but forced herself to stay silent as he set the cup down and stood up, apparently overcome with restlessness. Seren walked to stand at the window where he looked out, his voice dropping to a murmur.
"Your involvement isn't even needed — nor Klavier's. You should let us do our jobs. Focus on getting better."
Her eyes narrowed instantly, fixing themselves on his back – she wanted to kick him right under that spot where his hands were entwined. "I'd be more than happy to grant you that request fop-face," she started fiercely, "if it wasn't for the fact that I'm kind of involved."
Seren turned around with a sigh and looked at her kindly. "I know, love," he said gently and Ema's eyes popped at the endearment, her annoyance temporarily forgotten. Beside her, Klavier laughed out loud, his hand squeezing hers comfortingly.
"Do not be alarmed, Ema," he said, drawing her attention to his humorous eyes. "It is common among the British to address each other thus."
"They're all a bunch'a freaks," Raoul said casually, waving at Seren. "You'll get used to him."
Ema turned back to Seren again, somewhat calmer. "Odd. I've never heard you use it before."
Seren smiled, crossing his arms and lounging against the wall. "That's because I haven't — around you. I figured you might flip out," he said with a small laugh. "But I realise now that you're going to be around a lot longer."
Ema glanced at Klavier then, her heart skipping a beat at the implication behind the words; he was staring at her with a gentle look but behind the twinkle of his ever-smiling eyes, she saw the question that had arisen in her own mind: how long was 'longer'?
It was true that she felt something for him she'd never even dreamt of feeling, let alone for someone like him — but that didn't mean he felt as strongly as she did. For Ema, love had always been an emotion far out of her reach and so she'd never really given it a thought. She had known, however, that whoever (if ever) she loved would be her first and her last and though Lana had chastised her for such a restrictive principle, Ema had not been able to change it. She only believed in loving one person for the rest of her life. True enough, it was difficult to distinguish between infatuation and true love but she knew that when it was true love it would hit her like a freight train — she would just know.
And she knew.
The fact that when she looked into his eyes, like she was now, she didn't want to swoon was the first sign; all she wanted was to keep staring. That when he touched her hand, like he was now, it wasn't as though she'd been burnt but, rather, been struck by lightning was the second sign; she revelled in the energy that rushed through her. And that, when he said her name, it was as though her soul was waking, responding to a siren call… that was the third sign.
They were endless, these shows of a deeper emotion and she knew that anyone could argue they didn't differ from infatuation but she knew they did and she knew how and it was in this one simple but devastating fact: she wanted to live for him and she wanted to die for him.
But simply because she wanted to give him the rest of her life didn't mean he wanted to do the same, Ema realised. Simply because her own beliefs on love were so intense and committed didn't mean he believed in the same. What made it worse was who and what he was — a rock-star could not reach the age of 24 without having had some relationships and she'd always had a sneaking suspicion that it was because people got used to being with so many different partners that they found it so easy to get bored of someone and 'fall out of love'. Again, Lana had told her not to be so ridiculous (no doubt stung as she had had multiple boyfriends in her life).
But even had Ema decided to give people that benefit of the doubt, how could she expect Klavier to stay by her? What did she have to offer to someone who already had everything in his life? Klavier was young and handsome, successful and rich. He didn't lack for friends and, as Ema remembered the fans that trailed after him at every crime scene, he certainly didn't lack for women. She was certain he would move on. He would see that there was nothing but stupidity and nerdiness to all of her actions and then he would leave her.
And suddenly, the large, tanned hand resting over hers felt heavier than it ever had before.
Ema abruptly turned to Seren and then Raoul. "I know what you're all trying to do," she said in a steady tone. "And I appreciate it."
"I sense a 'but'," Raoul said.
"But," Ema echoed, ignoring his guffaw, "I don't have the ability to sit back and let someone else handle my problems. I'm not going to leave this alone so you might as well accept the fact that I'm going to be a part of this."
Raoul stirred, leaning forward and running his hands through his hair. "That sounds fair enough to me, girl."
Seren was staring at her intently. "Okay," he said after a moment and Ema was surprised at how quickly he'd acceded to her request. "One condition though."
Ema's eyebrow quirked. "Here I was thinking you're the swe—never mind," she amended hastily when she realised where a comment like that would get her. She may have thought Seren was the sweetest Gavinner but with Raoul present, she would live to regret the day she voiced that thought. "What condition?"
"It's nothing major," Seren said casually. "You just have to promise us—" he waved at the Gavinners in the room "—that you won't do anything to put yourself in danger."
"Why would I do something like that?" Ema said, weaving her way around the promise. "I don't particularly have suicidal tendencies."
Seren wasn't fooled — and neither was Klavier. "Your word, Ema," the prosecutor said, lacing his fingers through hers.
Ema glanced down at their entwined hands where they rested on his leg and felt her spine grow stiff — given the insecure direction of her thoughts a few moments ago, she didn't think she had the courage to look him in the eye. Yet his fingers were increasing their grip on hers and though they weren't causing her any discomfort, his hold was strong.
"Ya won't get away with word games, chick," Raoul drawled, thankfully breaking the spell Klavier's touch had cast; Ema turned to the red-head where he was lounging into the space beside her, a serious look on his face. "You might as well just get this over with."
"Oh come on!" she wailed, turning to Seren. "I can't promise something like that because then I'll have to stop doing so many other things that are necessary to life!"
Seren's mouth twitched. "Such as?"
"Picking up a knife, crossing a road — that's dangerous but you can't stop doing it, can you?" Ema exclaimed, glancing between Raoul and Seren, both of whom were openly grinning now. "It's not funny! I could accidentally stab myself! I could get run over!"
"But you won't," Raoul stated. "Because you ain't gonna be aimin' that knife at yourself. And when you cross the road, you'll look right and left. That's the point."
"You're not going to be reckless with your life," Seren added. "That's the crux of the promise."
Ema glared at the two Gavinners but then she felt another squeeze on her hand and her patience exploded. "Oh fine!" she snapped. "I promise!"
"You promise… what?" Seren prompted and she was sure he was only doing it to goad her now. She mentally rescinded her impression of him — he was a fop too.
"I promise not to do anything dangerous," she said moodily, wrenching her hand out of Klavier's grasp and crossing her arms.
"Thanks, darling," Seren said, satisfaction colouring his voice.
"Hmph," was her response as she fell back against the sofa, a pout on her face. Beside her, Raoul laughed and mussed her hair and Ema's irritation released in a smack to his head. "Get away from me, you damn fop!"
However, the red-head stayed firmly in place. Seren picked up his tea again and settled into a chair, clearly calm now that he'd extracted the promise from Ema who was still sulking in her little space between Klavier and Raoul. When the former took her hand again, however, she stiffened again, suddenly wishing she could just tell him to stop without offending him. She knew it was unfair, knew that she was being stupid, but now that the insecurity had resurfaced, it was difficult to control it.
"Ema."
She turned to Klavier slowly, avoiding his gaze and keeping her eyes fixed on the collar of his shirt but she could see him looking at her intently out of the corner of her eye.
"I…"
He paused then and Ema was so entirely surprised by his uncharacteristic hesitation that her eyes flew up to meet his; he looked apprehensive. She looked at Raoul and Seren to see if they were as taken aback as she was but they were both looking away, feigning disinterest, and her apprehension increased.
"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. Her own doubts were temporarily forgotten as she searched his face for the answer to her question; what had him so clearly nervous? Thoughts of Tessa and Daryan, of Deston and Simon crossed her mind and her heart sank. What could have happened now?
"We think," Seren intervened, clearly unable to take the dense silence, "that—"
"I will ask her, Seren," Klavier interrupted, his tone not unkind, and the other Gavinner silenced with a nod of the head. Klavier turned back to her and the anxiousness in his face was now mixed with a steely determination. "Ema, I have a question to ask you and I do not want you to answer it due to any obligation or duty. Your answer should sit with you comfortably."
"Okay…" Ema answered with a nervous flutter in her stomach.
"There is too much danger here," Klavier continued gravely. "In the immediate aftermath of Rafael's death, I believe the danger to all of us is great but to you, even greater."
"What are you trying to say?" she said slowly.
"We — I think it would be a good idea if you got out of the country for a while," Klavier said and paused — there was a momentary shuttering in his eyes and then he sighed. "With me."
Ema suddenly understood everything and she almost laughed — out of exasperation, out of relief and out of joy. She'd expected something bad and instead all she'd got was a negation of her fears: Klavier was anxious because he thought she didn't want to go anywhere with him. In light of her thoughts, the unease in his eyes comforted her. If he was willing to go away — and she knew it was his idea because she'd heard him say it first — that meant he was serious about her and if he was serious about her then she didn't have as much to fear as she thought she did…
Right?
Look at him! He looks like he's stopped breathing! Of course he's serious about you.
Klavier's gaze was so thoroughly ill at ease and there was such a tight expectation in his handsome features that Ema couldn't hold back the smile that escaped her.
"You fop," she sighed. "You had me worried it was something really bad."
"You'll go?" Raoul said from behind her and the surprise in his voice grated on her nerves: hadn't he been the one to encourage Klavier with the reassurance that they'd reached this step in their relationship?
"Well, you said it yourself," Ema said casually. "I'm on holiday. Why not get out of the country for a while?"
When she saw relief smooth away the tension on her boyfriend's face, the knot in her own stomach unravelled. If Klavier could have been so worried about her refusing his offer, it meant that he wasn't just in it for 'the moment'.
Didn't it?
There was no time for the doubt to regain hold on her mind because Klavier wrapped his arm around her shoulders then and hugged her lightly, laughing in her ear. "I will make the arrangements. Any particular place you would like to visit?"
"The UK," Seren suggested before Ema could get a word out.
"There's ain't anythin' worth lookin' at over there," Raoul interjected. "Head on down to Italy. You can stay at my place — that should be enough to keep you occupied for a while."
Ema frowned. "Why?"
"Because he's a Marquis," Seren said, clearly unaffected by Raoul's rebuff of his country. "You'd be staying in the Palazzo Adagio."
Ema felt a surge of horror as she turned on Raoul. "Do not tell me you have a palace."
"I won't," Raoul said casually but smirked when Ema gasped.
"It is not technically a palace," Klavier said, amused. "It is grand, however, and deeply steeped in history."
"He just calls it the Adagio Palace 'cause he's a pompous old prat," Seren explained. "He's an aristocrat but the Marquis thing is more a hereditary novelty than an actual, influential title."
"What do you mean?" Ema said curiously.
"Ray's just basically really wealthy and has the title of an aristocrat but he doesn't rule over any land like a general marquis would," Seren answered. "He's just got lots of land a nice place courtesy of the wealth he's earned himself. The place belonged to his ancestors but if he didn't have the dosh, he wouldn't be able to maintain the property, let alone buy it back from the government — which is what he did."
"So he just throws the title around to be impressive?" Ema said.
"Yo!" Raoul cut in, laughing. "Hang on a freakin' minute! I'm a Gavinner. I don't need'a throw anythin' around to be impressive."
"Europe is littered with unknown aristocrats," Klavier added. "Many of them are just middle class people with average wealth."
"Really?" Ema said, intrigued. "How odd."
"It's true," Seren confirmed.
"So he's really just royalty in his own mind?" Ema smirked.
"Pretty much."
"Dude, I'm already pissed at you for caffeinating my pants," Raoul said with a glare at Seren. "Quit pushin' my buttons."
"What'd I do?" the keyboardist said innocently.
"I'll show you what you—"
"Take a chill pill, mate," Seren laughed, his eyes running the length of Raoul's advancing form.
"Achtung!" Ema turned to see Klavier laughing as well. "You know he is always trying to annoy you, Raoul. Do not rise to the bait."
Ema looked at Seren curiously; Klavier was right, the green-clad Gavinner always seemed to be poking at Raoul for something and the Italian responded to his jabs more than anyone else's. She decided there and then that she would force Seren to tell her his secret — she needed a way to repay Raoul for the way he consistently needled her.
The fop.
"You guys going down to Italy then?" Seren asked.
"Sure," Raoul said before either Ema or Klavier could say a word. He sank back into the seat to her left. "But not this time."
"Aren't you a good mate," Seren laughed.
"It's because I'm a good mate that I'm not gonna let 'em do something that stupid," Raoul said seriously.
Ema frowned, turning to Klavier. "What...?"
The blond was looking grave; he appeared to have understood exactly what Raoul was talking about.
"It's one of the first places they'll look," the Italian said quietly. He moved forward until his elbows were resting on his knees and he was looking past Ema, right at Klavier. "I think it's best if you decide on the spot. Don't trust anyone."
Ema felt her stomach shrink at those words — did this mean she couldn't trust anyone anymore? Did this mean having to look over her shoulder at every turn?
And, most important of all, she realised as she turned to look at Klavier as well, did this mean she was putting them all in danger? Her sister, her friends… was she putting them all in harm's way?
She hadn't seen Lana much up until this week. It was when she'd walked into Klavier's home, frowning for all she was worth, that Ema had leapt into her arms. Her sister had stared at her aghast, her brown eyes wide with shock as she took in all of Ema's bruises, and it had been several moments before she could even talk.
But when she did, Ema had almost winced.
"What the hell happened to you, Ema?" she'd cried, sweeping her face with protective fingers.
"I've had a rough month," Ema had replied with a sheepish smile, earning her a scary glare from Lana.
"I left you alone because I thought you wouldn't want me in your face all the time! I thought you could take care of yourself!"
"I can take care of myself, Sis," Ema had protested.
"Sit down," was the command. "Tell me everything."
And so, for the first time in her life, Ema had looked her sister in the eye and lied to her.
She started off honestly enough; she told Lana all about Deston's desire to trigger Klavier's jealousy off, his attempts to make him do something about it and the resultant relationship she found herself in. She convinced Lana that she was happy and that Klavier was a good man and it was in her attempts to prove this fact that she told her about Rafael's attempt (singular) to kill her and Klavier's even greater attempts to keep her safe.
That's when the lying had begun — she'd told her the first (and real attempt Rafael had made in her apartment) had actually been the Cadaverinis since she'd been the one to question one of their own. The most recent attempt (that had resulted in the bruises Lana had been unable to stop staring at) was Rafael's doing, a desperate last go at hurting them all. She didn't mention that her kidnapping had left her with a blank in her memory nor that Irina even existed, let alone that she was after her blood.
Ema had had no idea how she'd managed to keep a straight face as she reassured Lana that the danger was over and that she was staying with Klavier because he had insisted on taking care of her. When Lana continued to scrutinise her, Ema had feared her sister had seen through her lies but then the older Skye had simply scolded her for keeping her uninformed of all the chaos before beginning to self-deprecate for not having checked up on Ema enough. The sight of Lana, who had already given up so much for her, cursing herself for neglect had almost pushed Ema to tears with guilt.
Klavier had comforted her afterwards, neither chastising nor encouraging her choice. His quiet acceptance and support had taken some of the sting away. She knew he would support her no matter what she chose to reveal or hide from Lana. Her sister had visited her several times over the past few days and there had been numerous close-calls when Lana mentioned something to Klavier whose eyes flickered to Ema in confusion because she'd forgotten to tell him a part of the revised version. However, he seemed to understand her panicked look because he looked back to Lana as if nothing was out of place and smoothly confirmed it. She knew how much he hated lies and deception yet not once had he looked at her in displeasure nor uttered a word of admonition. His presence had been strong and silent and she'd felt it with all her being.
And impossible though it seemed, Ema loved him all the more for it.
Klavier hovered over her protectively but he never made it obvious; when she was with Lana, he would appear in the doorway to greet Lana and then he would be gone, coming back every so often for no apparent reason. She could only assume that he wanted to make sure she was never left alone — whenever Lana left, Klavier was sure to join her and keep her company in whatever way suited his — and her — mood. Sometimes he teased, sometimes he talked to her, sometimes he just held her and sometimes he did all three.
And since she was a marked woman, Ema did nothing but bask in the memories he was creating for her. She did all she could to get as involved in this time with him as she could because she had no idea how much of it she had left — and she knew the same thought crossed his mind every time he randomly crushed her to his chest and dropped a kiss to her head. Those moments showed her his fear and desperation and the guilt hit her again. If something happened to her, how would he take it?
So she tried to tell herself that she would shower him with all her affection; that way, if anything ever happened to her, he would have something to hold on to. She'd be damned if she left him with any sort of negative memory.
She wouldn't echo Raina's mistake.
"Ema?"
His voice shocked her out of the sea of thoughts she'd been swimming in; Klavier was frowning at her in apprehension and she looked around at Raoul and Seren to see what she'd missed. They were both looking at her with a mix of curiosity and anxiousness.
"What?"
"You winced?" Klavier said.
Crap.
"Okay, listen," she said assertively, ignoring his question. "I agree to go away for a while although this is not me running. Don't think you're getting rid of me." She turned accusing eyes on Raoul.
"Hey, I ain't plotting against you any more than these two are."
"Ema," Seren said, drawing her attention. "We're not trying to get rid of you. We just want you to heal for a while and that's safest done in another country. These people are extremely dangerous. Considering how pissed off they must be right now—"
"I'm not scared of them," she cut in bravely. Klavier's arm crept around her waist in a protective gesture.
"We know," came the reply from three different voices.
Ema scowled.
"As I was saying," she went on, ignoring their simultaneous smirks, "I'll go — but on one condition."
She felt Klavier go stiff beside her and barely held back the smile at his unnecessary reaction. "Condition?"
"Yes," she said.
"What condition?" Seren asked with a frown.
"I want to see Deston before we go," Ema said, examining their reactions.
Seren's expression became cautious and Raoul leaned back slowly, his green eyes intently fixed on hers. Klavier's arm loosened from her waist and when she turned to him, the blond looked uncomfortable.
"Ema..."
"I know you're not having any luck with him and I'm not stupid enough to think I'll get through to him when his best friends haven't—"
"That ain't it, chick," Raoul said but she held up a hand.
"Let me finish, Ray," she said calmly. "I know it's not that easy… But have you considered that maybe Deston is at his beach house?"
No need to reveal she'd overhead Klavier say as much.
"He is," Klavier said quietly.
Ema raised an eyebrow at him. "Haven't you got a key to it?" she asked. "We were both living there up until two weeks ago."
Klavier shook his head sadly. "I returned it to him after I left."
Ema smiled then, a slow triumphant smile that got their attention. "Well, I didn't."
Seren let put a whoosh of air and Klavier's eyes widened. Beside her, Raoul sat up straight and his voice rang sharp: "You didn't?"
Ema shook her head, turning to him. "I kept forgetting," she said looking around at them all. "Anyway, if he's there shouldn't we just go in?"
"Yes," Raoul said, immediately rising to his feet. "That's just what we're gonna do."
"Slow down, mate," Seren said, standing up as well.
"What for?" Raoul scoffed. "Give the idiot a chance to slit his wrist?"
Ema felt horror bubble inside her like lava at his words and Klavier, who'd noticed her reaction, spoke up, his voice admonishing; "Raoul."
"No, he's right," Ema cut in, turning to Klavier with fear in her heart. "We can't just leave him alone."
"We should go now," Raoul said, digging his fingers into his pocket and drawing out his keys. "It's been long enough."
"Ema," Seren started quietly. "Maybe you should—"
"Don't even think about telling me to stay behind!" Ema snapped angrily. "You can't make me."
"We do not know what we will find," Klavier said gently but she whirled on him, reeling with shock that he would even think about stopping her.
"This isn't fair!" she cried, her voice rising, looking around at all of them. "He's my friend too!"
Klavier glanced at Seren who was running a hand through his hair, his light blue eyes filled with worry. Ema wrenched her hand from Klavier's grasp and — unexpectedly — felt Raoul's fingers dig gently into her shoulder. She turned to him and found him staring at his friends grimly, his jaw tight with tension.
"You heard the girl," he said gravely. "Quit treatin' her like a damsel in distress." Ema's eyes widened as Raoul's gaze dropped to hers. "Besides," he added seriously. "Deston's gonna be fine. There ain't nothin' to shield her from."
Thank you, she mouthed.
Raoul nodded before turning to Klavier and Seren who were both looking at Ema. The blond moved forward suddenly and Ema stayed rooted by Raoul's side, her attention fixed intently on Klavier's tender expression. He touched her cheek gently.
"Go get ready, Ema," he instructed, his voice soft, his eyes apologetic. "We will wait."
.'.
When Raoul's Bugatti pulled up into the driveway, Ema half expected the house to be in ruins — she figured it was because it had seemed so long ago that she'd been here or maybe because it felt like Deston had been AWOL for longer than just a week. Whatever it was, Ema was unsettled by how perfect the place seemed because she didn't know what she was about to find inside. Despite the Italian's reassurance that Deston was fine, she couldn't help the dark sense of foreboding flooding her.
Someone pulled the car door open and a ringed hand extended. She clasped it and stepped out, throwing Raoul an odd look for his uncharacteristic gesture but his serious eyes were intently fixed on the windows of the house. She followed his grim expression and found her heart skip a beat at the shuttered blinds. They could see absolutely nothing going on inside the home.
"His bike's there," Seren said quietly, pointing to some place beside a large fountain, partly hidden by the stony structure. Ema stepped around Raoul to see where Seren was pointing; she swallowed the gasp that rose in her throat — the black motorbike lay on its side, haphazardly splayed across the gravel, covered with a scattering of droplets from the spray of water coming from the fountain.
"It was not there last night," Klavier said, having come to stand beside Ema.
Raoul marched across the garden and crouched down beside the fallen vehicle. He ran a hand over it and rubbed his fingers together before lifting them to his nose and sniffing. Ema's frown turned to surprise when Raoul's face morphed into shock and he shot up to his feet, twisting on the spot to glare up at the house.
"Stupid bastard!" he growled.
Before Ema could pose her question, Klavier placed a hand on the small of her back and pulled her along. They all quietly followed the cursing Italian towards the grand door that had never looked as strong and forbidding as it did now. Ema kept her eyes fixed on the ground as she rummaged through her purse for the key. Her fingers pushed impatiently past the tools she normally handled with such love until a sharp jab in her thumb told the detective she'd found it.
Just then they came to a halt before the entrance. Ema glanced at Seren who stood right beside her on the front step. He glanced at her with his kindly eyes and gave a small nod as if he had sensed her growing fear and though Ema knew she wasn't alone, that she was accompanied by some of the strongest men in the world, her fingers trembled because she knew that no power in the world could protect her if she found what she dreaded. If Deston was... If Deston had...
"It's okay, Ema," Seren said quietly, holding his hand out to her. "Give me the key, love."
Relief momentarily swept through her: she didn't have the courage to open the door, to be the first one to step in... Without a word, Ema did as he asked and dropped the silver key in his hand, stepping back to give him space but Seren stopped her, touching her hand briefly.
"It'll be alright, sweet."
Ema didn't trust herself to speak so she just allowed Klavier to draw her to his side. The prosecutor was watching Seren as he unlocked the door and his usually smiling lips were pursed together, set against a clenched jaw. Instinctively, Ema touched his arm; Klavier glanced at her and his eyes softened but before he could say whatever his lips had parted to say, the door clicked and Ema's head snapped toward it. Seren pushed it and it swung open, letting their shadows fall across the ground before them.
Ema swallowed deeply at the darkness that met their eyes. The entrance room she knew to be there was barely visible — the blackout shades had been pulled all the way down; the only light in the room was the rays of sunshine trickling in from behind them.
Seren threw them all one wary look and stepped over the threshold cautiously as if he was stepping into the lair of an enemy rather than his friend's home. Raoul threw Klavier a meaningful glance she didn't understand but again, Klavier led her forward before she could say a word.
Silence reigned. Seren's form became harder and harder to see as he moved further into room and there was an odd sound coming with his advance, as if he were stepping in broken glass. Ema was inadvertently reminded of Deston's shooting of the glass barrier, of Raoul falling into the shards…
Focus! she told herself.
Ema forced herself to forget everything except what was going on around her; she could hear them breathing steadily, their movements slow and cautious. Klavier's hands left her and she turned to see where he'd gone but just at that moment, the door slammed shut behind them and Ema jumped.
"Klavier!" she hissed.
"Sorry, liebling," he murmured.
Before Ema could respond, the lights came on and she saw Raoul near a wall, his hand still at the switch he'd just flicked. His darting eyes caught her attention and she followed his gaze to the scene behind her and gasped. The fear exploded inside her like a firework as she took in the mess that greeted them.
Sofas, chairs and tables lay overturned on a floor cluttered with smaller objects, some shattered into tiny fragments. The TV that had once hung on the wall lay dismally on the floor and the sound system lay in pieces from one wall to the other, the spaces between each speaker littered with books and discs, remotes and wires. At the far end, a bookshelf lay on the floor showing 9 very distinct bullet holes and beside it, the half overturned brown rug was stained.
"Fuck me…" Raoul whispered, scanning the circular room.
"Do you think someone attacked him?" Ema demanded as Seren leant down next to the bookshelf and examined it. He ran his fingers over the holes before turning to the rug and yanking it out from under its wooden weight.
"I'm willin' to bet that ain't blood," Raoul said.
Seren raised it until the rug was a foot away from his face and then he let it drop to the ground with a revolted look. "It's alcohol."
"Thought so," Raoul said. "Was on his hog too."
"Wait, what?" Ema asked, shocked.
"Someone really went to work on that bike with somethin'," Raoul said grimly. "It was bleedin' gas and covered in beer or vodka or some shit."
"Who did it?" Ema asked needlessly — she had a pretty good idea who'd done it. Raoul also saw the futility in answering her question because he simply looked at her gravely, his hand resting on the gun she knew he kept in his waistband.
"I'm gonna take the bastard's licence away," Raoul said angrily. "Gonna make sure he can't—"
"Quiet!"
They all looked at Klavier and Ema's terror, induced by the urgency of his tone, heightened at the way he was frozen, his eyes darting around the room.
"Do you hear that?"
Ema listened to the silence, her fingers curling into fists at the rising tension. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to look for anything that might have told her detective's mind something else had happened here, that this wasn't entirely his doing…
Where are you, Deston? What have you done?
And it was just when she posed that question that she heard it: a female laugh.
Her eyes snapped open in shock at the happy sound, so out of place amid this destruction. She looked around at the boys and found them all turned towards the staircase behind them, their faces ashen. Raoul's fingers slipped from the gun at his wasitband and he took a step toward the bottom of the stairs, his usually smirking expression now dissolved into one of stricken disbelief. Seren took slow steps towards the same space, his pale face turned upwards.
"No..."
The laughter turned into speech but the hilarity never left the voice and it grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill the silence, fill the vast spaces of the house, until Ema thought she was going crazy. She turned to Klavier desperately, looking for answers, but he was frozen, his eyes wide with some faraway fear, his lips parted and his breathing shallow. He was looking up too, as if he could see something she couldn't.
And then all three Gavinners were moving, their long legs carrying them up the grand staircase and Ema rushed after them, her confusion and fright increasing with every step the Gavinners sped up. She barely noticed where she was going, that it was dark or that there was a sharp pain in her right leg — all she was aware of as she chased after them was the laughter and the way her gut turned cold when she heard Deston's voice join in…
"Whatever you say, baby! If it wasn't for that—fuck!"
"You talk too much, Des!"
"Would you rather I kissed you, angel-face?"
Another tinkling laugh, another comment and then there was hooting that sound like—
She collided against someone and Ema's hand reached out to stop herself from falling over. Klavier's hand shot out to steady her and Ema clutched onto his arm tighter when she straightened and saw his eyes, full of rising horror and fixed ahead. For a moment, she couldn't find it in herself to look, to see what had him so frozen but then she turned and when her mind registered the scene, she felt her heart stop.
"I can't imagine how you think I'll marry you, old man!"
"Oh you'll marry me, princess."
Ema was transfixed by the sight before her, the sound as it resounded around them.
"You move like an eighty year old!"
It was Deston's laugh but it wasn't the Deston she was seeing.
"Do I kiss like one too, baby?"
The laptop lit up the room, the light from the changing frames in the movie flickering on the walls intensely. It rested in the centre, on a desk covered with bottles of vodka, one of which was still in the clutches of long, tanned fingers.
"Deston!"
The sound coming from the laptop faded out until there was nothing left except the roaring in her ears, the breaking of the dam in her heart — she didn't even hear herself whisper his name nor did she notice that she was moving until she was standing directly beside him. Ema looked down at Deston where his head lay on the edge of the desk. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and he reeked of alcohol. His jaw was dark with stubble as if he hadn't shaved in days and there were tracks of —
No, it couldn't be… Deston didn't cry…
She forced herself to look away from his face but then her eyes landed on the hand that still held the vodka bottle and the arm that stretched out next to his head. A cry escaped her and though she wanted to look away, though she wanted to turn and run, Ema couldn't tear her eyes away from the smear of dark red on his skin.
"He's bleeding!" she gasped. "Klavier, he's bleeding!"
Someone pulled her back and Raoul took her place; his fingers hit at the keys of the laptop fiercely and silence fell in the room.
"Come here, Ema," Klavier whispered in her ear as his firm but gentle hands drew her against him.
"You have to help him!" Ema breathed. "He's—"
"It's not fatal," Raoul said calmly. "He's going to be fine, Ema."
Fine? He wasn't going to be fine! He was lying unconscious amid a pile of mess, his arm bleeding profusely! How could he be fine?
But Ema had neither the energy nor the frame of mind to verbalise her argument. She held onto Klavier as the Italian yanked at Deston's shoulder, forcing his body to slump upright but he remained unconscious, his head lolling pathetically.
"Hey!" Seren called loudly, appearing on the other side and slapping at Deston's face. "Des!"
"We need to get him to his bedroom," Raoul said, crouching down and throwing one of Deston's arms around his shoulder. "Get the lights, Klavier, and ring for a doctor."
When the lights came on, Seren had thrown Deston's other arm over his shoulder and both he and Raoul gripped him around the waist before lifting him up. Ema's chest tightened painfully when she saw the blood on Deston's knuckles as they turned him and she held back the sob rising in her throat.
He'd always been so strong and dependable, so fierce and together that she couldn't reconcile her best friend with the broken mess of a man Raoul and Seren were hauling through the door. That man wasn't Deston. Deston always smiled and laughed and he only got angry when someone was disloyal. He wasn't violent and, Ema realised with a deep pang, he never — ever — cried.
She turned to Klavier, needing to say something but he'd already pulled her into his arms and was crushing her to his chest, soothing her with his quiet voice. Ema shut her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the river of tears straining her throat because she knew that if she started, she wouldn't stop and they didn't need one more person to look after.
Pull yourself together, her mind commanded. Deston needs them! Deston needs them…
Ema took a deep breath and pulled back, looking at Klavier.
"Go help them."
He brushed the hair back from her face. "Will you be okay?"
She nodded and then he kissed her lightly before letting her go, slipping away through the doorway leading to the bedroom. Ema stared after him, feeling her strength weaken. She took another deep breath and looked around at the room she guessed had been a study before Deston had trashed it. It was almost as bad as the one downstairs — the only thing still standing upright was the desk with the laptop and the chair which had been occupied by Deston until moments ago.
Ema kept her eyes away from there intentionally, moving around the room in a bid to control her racing heart. She needed to keep calm, needed to keep herself together. This wasn't about her, it was about Deston.
With great strength, Ema found it in her to steel herself against the entire situation.
Examine! her mind yelled. Occupy yourself…
She fell into a crouch right where she was, trying to focus on the mess but despite her ridiculous (to her own mind) attempt to calm down, Ema's attention was caught straight away by a glint of silver. With a lump in the back of her throat because she knew just what it was, she reached out to it and her trembling fingers wrapped around the handle.
It was a small knife… stained with dried blood.
The detective rose to her feet, her eyes fixed intently on the shiny blade. It looked so wicked, so lethal, she couldn't imagine why Deston even had anything like this.
And as if in response to her though, the blade suddenly reflected Deston's handsome face, smiling carelessly. With a yelp, Ema dropped it and it clattered between her feet loudly but she barely noticed; the detective had whirled around to see if Deston was really standing behind her, though she knew it to be stupid, and her eyes landed on the laptop.
The screen was frozen, showing the slightly blurred image of Deston's dazzling smile, his head turned to the side as if something had caught his attention. The face was younger, more adolescent, his hair was cropped shorter and though his face was just as mischievous, it lacked the wisdom he carried now.
Without thinking about what she was doing, Ema's fingers reached out to the space bar and tapped lightly and though she was expecting it, she still jumped as the sound of male voices filled the room. The frame blurred with motion as, for a moment, Deston slipped out of sight.
"What the he—whoa!" Deston laughed, ducking his head.
The camera shook as gales of laughter exploded all around them and then she saw the frame focus on a younger Klavier who was standing several feet away, his attention focused on something else. "Get him good, ja?"
"Hey!" Deston cried from somewhere nearby. "Stop it! She doesn't need anymore encouragement to kill me. Look at the way—shit!"
The camera moved away and two figures came in sight as they ducked and weaved around each other, their arms and legs connecting with surprising force, one of whom was Deston. He was backtracking as his attacker jabbed at him again and again and while he seemed to be at a severe disadvantage, there was nothing but fun and laughter in his youthful features.
Ema turned her attention to his opponent whose perfect figure was spinning and leaping, punching and throwing in an almost identical reflection of Deston's… she gave him no inch, gave him no time to rest or think and were it not for the long, fiery hair that whipped around her and the obvious enjoyment in Deston's eyes, Ema might have believed this woman meant him harm. All of his counterattacks were just that split second in time, just that inch lucky and Ema understood exactly what Klavier had meant when he'd said she was Deston's equal. She was just as destructive, just as fierce and her form almost as powerful.
"You're on fire, my queen," Deston called.
"Quit—talking—right—NOW!" she enunciated with each blow and Deston blocked each one, until his back was against the wall and she stood pressed against him, her elbow at his throat. "You're driving me insane with your gibberish, Des. Shut up and fight properly!"
Deston's smile exploded into laughter and, in a flash of lightning, he'd grabbed hold of her and spun her around until their positions were reversed. "I am fighting properly, princess," he said and though his head partially blocked the camera's view, Ema could see the way his lips brushed against hers. All around them, the boys whistled in appreciation.
"Kiss him!" Daryan hooted. "That should get the boy's blood boiling!"
"Nah, girl, don't kiss him!" Raoul's voice boomed from behind the camera. "Make him fight for it!"
"Do you want your arse kicked, Ray?" Seren asked.
Deston stirred against the girl and turned, finally giving Ema a view of her face and she inhaled sharply. Framed by thick, wavy red-hair was quite possibly the most beautiful face Ema had ever seen: the eyes were large, slanted around dark brown irides set alongside the slender bridge of a perfect nose. Beneath it was a full mouth stretched into a mischievous and heartbreaking smile, revealing perfect, white teeth. Her skin was a flawless ivory that stretched taut over her slender neck and shoulders, disappearing under the cotton shirt that hung loosely around her frame.
Ema's fingers pressed into the space bar again and the frame froze on the red-headed beauty's face as she beamed up into Deston's smiling face.
And it was at that moment, when Ema saw the way Deston was looking down into her face, as if he has discovered the reason why he existed, that she finally understood how much he had loved — and how much he had lost.
"Ja," came Klavier's quiet voice from behind her. Ema turned to see him standing nearby, his haunted eyes fixed on the laptop screen. "That is Raina."