XXXI: Baby Give it Up


"Are they gone?"

"Looks like it." Cyan called back down the alley.

She heard Qrow grunt in the background as he lifted the dumpster. At the deputy's direction, the huntsman went about setting the receptacle back upright. His strength should have made it a simple task, but its unwieldy size made it harder to set up than knock over. He lightly complained before figuring out it was easier to comply than to argue.

While Qrow finished up, the deputy stood on guard at the entryway to the dark corridor as she wrote in her ticket pad. The process was slower than usual due to her having to glance up periodically. The three hoods that had attempted to corner them were nowhere to be found. In fact, the entire street was empty.

She was feeling a bit agitated at the attempt to entrap her. There was also the suspicion that they might double back to try again. So far, it appeared as though they were keeping their word to leave Relay behind. They had walked in the direction of the Bullhead drop off point. Still, being cautious had not served her wrong in her career yet.

A weight on her shoulder that moved as she was writing reminded her of another thing that had been left behind. The rifle she had taken from that Kahlua woman hung from a strap around her shoulder. They had not discussed it, but she had essentially seized the weapon. The deputy thought it would immediately be turned around on her if she returned it right away.

The question was what to do with the gun now that it was in her possession. Technically speaking, the individual it was taken from could petition the Sheriff's Office to have it returned. Based on how rapidly the trench coat wearer had vacated the premises without asking for the firearm to be returned, Cyan doubted they would come anywhere near them to file the proper paperwork.

Either way, the confiscated item would need to be processed and stored. After a month had passed, the item would either be sold, destroyed, or repurposed for the volunteers. The Quartermaster would need to make that determination. Cyan decided she would leave it on Maggie's desk as soon as she returned to her office.

Completing her work, she tore out the filled in sheet and returned the pad to her jacket. The quick footfalls let her know Qrow was approaching. Her turning around brought them back together again.

"We are good to go." He gave a thumbs up.

Looking behind him, Cyan could see that the dumpster was now in its correct place. The spilt trash had been returned as well. It was a bit crooked, with one end sticking out from the wall. Otherwise, he had done as instructed.

"Cool." She nodded before moving on to other concerns. "So, I got to ask. Was there a reason you let our guests go? You were rather adamant about it."

"It saved us time. You would have had to process them and then have them taken away. I also already feel somewhat guilty that my personal life has been distracting us from what's important."

That was right. She needed to remind herself that they were still looking for a murderer. Each day that passed made the trail go colder. DJ Yell3r, the tension between Tocsin and Relay, and especially Qrow's odd family dynamics were all secondary. Justice for Cobalt had to be their guiding light.

"Also, how did you plan on proving that they meant us harm?" He asked very suddenly, causing her to stumble. "I stopped that one chick before she could get off a shot."

The huntsman had a point. The would-be assailant could have asserted it was a misunderstanding, or worse, counterclaim they had assaulted her. With how little Cyan's word seemed to matter nowadays, it was likely that the Sheriff would have let them go anyway.

There was also the outside possibility that he would use it as a justification to put her on administrative leave pending an internal review. If Wendeval was trying to make their investigation disappear, this incident would have given him plenty of excuses to shut it down. They could not afford that kind of setback.

"Ugh, fine." She gave him a baleful glare. "It's strange that somehow you are the voice of reason in all of this."

From the short while she had known him, Cyan had come to know the truth. There was nothing reasonable about Qrow Branwen. Everything was a mystery or a contradiction. It was as if the very notion of normalcy was a foreign concept. Back alley standoffs, accidental larceny, and improvised home invasions were an everyday fact of life around him.

The way he grinned let her know that he knew what she was thinking. He had gotten very good at reading her thoughts through non-verbal cues. The same was also true in reverse. The way his features softened as he stepped on to the sidewalk and looked out over the city let her know he was troubled.

"Still, I can't shake this odd feeling. I think I have met that lady with the shaved head before, but I can't place it."

"Could it be from a mirror?" The huntsman did not catch her meaning, so she expanded on the thought. "She looks like you. You two could have been twins separated at birth."

Qrow and Kahlua were bizarrely alike physically. Same height, build, and facial features. Even their overall devil-may-care attitudes, from what could be gleaned from the way she had tried to catch them off-guard, was comparable. The only difference was the eyes, hair, and gender.

"Yeah I guess." He conceded with a shrug. "She did look a bit like my sister, except she was lacking in the-"

He stopped abruptly as his brows furrowed. His lips peeled back as if in a growl before returning. There had been some tempered aggression there for a moment before he hid it behind his usual facade.

Red eyes burned holes into the far-off distance. He kept a soundless vigil for a few more seconds while he pondered on a thought. His next words threw her for another loop due to their unexpected nature.

"How often do you think people say things like 'yee-haw' out loud?"

She tilted her head at the odd question. "Ironically or non-ironically?"

"Whichever way she yelled it while rushing out the back door."

Non-ironically then. Thinking back to the moment it had happened, the phrase did stick out as odd. Living around ranchers and farmers her whole life, Cyan had never encountered anyone who would utter that, even when excited. Outside of the silver screen, it was a gag.

"I can't imagine very. Why? What's going on?"

"A hunch I need to follow up on." He glared down the open road before sighing. "Problems for another time. Now that this little detour has been resolved, we need to find Tai and the kids."

"Sure. Let's check on the store first. I want to make sure the owner is okay."

He was likely not happy with another task pulling his attention away, but he did not show it. Instead he led the way. Approaching the front of Good Vibrations, he held the door open for her with a mock bow. She responded appropriately.

"Oh, by the way, this is for you." She handed him the yellow slip of paper she had been carrying.

"What is this?"

"A citation for public urination."

"What!?" His jaw dropped at the idea. It fell even further when he saw the amount of the associated fine. "This is highway robbery."

"Hey, I don't make the rules. I only enforce them." She grinned as he scowled. "You can have it expunged if you are willing to perform some community service."

"Does me helping you out count?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." She smirked. "We'll have to wait and see."

She continued inside without waiting for his retort. He needed to learn a bit more about what was socially acceptable. Maybe a little tough love would be a good teacher. The aggressive stomps that followed her were a good sign that the lesson had been received.

Inside the music store, Cyan examined the interior for damage. She had not had a chance to do so when she passed through to get behind the men that were after them. Qrow decided to stick near the front, either as a protest or out of disinterest.

Nothing seemed out of place. She knew that the owner of the rifle had also gone this direction, so she was relieved to see that nothing had been broken or smashed. All that was missing was the proprietor.

"Mrs. Mustard? Are you still in here?"

A hollow beat accompanied movement from behind a kiosk. Whoever was hiding kicked one of the snare drums that lay nearby. A lined face slowly showed itself from around the side. The hands of the person were ready to pull them back for cover.

"Is it safe?" Came a meek reply.

"Yes. You can come out now." The deputy directed to the woman, causing her to step away from behind the display.

"Goodness gracious, Cyan." The kindly song peddler looked tired. "That was an adventure."

Her blue sweater was undone at the bottom. She took off her glasses to wipe away the fog on the lenses. The stress from the sudden activity could not have been good for her health, but a bullet would have been worse.

"Thanks again for your help. Having the advanced warning let us set up perfectly."

She had not wanted to send the older woman to check out the window, but Cyan figured it was safer for Pam to do it. If the group that was following them were trying to sneak up on Qrow, then they would not have done anything to harm a pedestrian. That would have blown their chance to catch them by surprise.

"I am just thankful everything worked out." Mrs. Mustard placed the frames back on her nose. "Though when I saw Tone with them, I nearly gave up the ghost."

"Tone?" Cyan questioned, having not been aware that the owner had known any of them. "Which one was that?"

"The large one. Tone Guerrero." She rubbed her shoulders after speaking Tiny's real name. "He has been coming around every few weeks or so to frighten me."

"He's threatening you?" She nearly gasped. If she had known that she definitely would not have used the civilian at all. "Why didn't you contact us?"

"I tried, but the deputy they sent was useless! I even showed him where Tone spat on my displays but that did not convince Deputy Dwrg that I needed protection."

Spitting. That jogged a memory. The feedback inbox had gotten a complaint about this. In all the hubbub, Cyan had forgotten to follow up on it. Now that she was here, she might as well get more information and see if she could resolve the dispute. It was the least she could do.

"Do you know why he is threatening you?"

"He took a few piano lessons and got angry when he was not picking it up. I told him to be patient. Atlas wasn't built in a day. But he wouldn't listen. He started accusing me of conspiring against him."

"So, he is a local?"

"Yes."

That added another layer of complexity. If he was a resident, then they could not ignore each other as agreed upon earlier. Sooner or later, they would have another run in. Cyan would need to make sure it was on her own terms. Qrow would not be around forever to watch her back.

"I'll have a chat with him about this. Do you know where he lives?"

"I don't."

Super. More difficulties. Cyan would need to ask around to get a beat on him. Thankfully, she had more to go on. A description and a name should make it easy. One of the volunteers was sure to know or could ask around on her behalf.

"If he shows up again, call the Sheriff's Office and ask for me by name." Then Cyan remembered the latest debacle with their secretary. "Actually, let me give you my number."

Taking out her notebook again, she hastily scribbled on a new page. She then heard the door open again. On instinct, she looked up to see her caped companion rushing out the door and shouting. Fearing the worst, she handed over the number, excused herself, and flew out in pursuit.

Outside again she swiveled around to find where Qrow had gone. It did not take long to locate him. He had crossed the street and approached a familiar sun deprived man in an orange shirt. Breathing in relief, she hurried across to join them.

She joined a conversation already in progress. Taiyang gave her a friendly wave before getting pulled back into the dialog forcefully with a swat to his hand. Qrow continued along as if she were not there.

"Where were you? We spent our entire morning searching every nook and cranny of this sad sack town to find you."

While Cyan did not appreciate the descriptor for her home, she was equally curious about what they had been up to. She would not originally have thought it would be difficult to find such distinctive individuals in the downtown area. That had been a miscalculation.

"We decided to see a movie."

His children carried evidence of their outing. The blonde held two sodas while staring down at her shoes. The other girl had a gigantic tub filled with popcorn up against her torso. It was tall enough to obscure the top half of her body. Curious hoary eyes below a drawn up red hood peered over the buttery goodness.

Now Cyan knew why they did not find them. The movie theater was on the opposite end of where they had searched up to that point. She also did not think the family unit would want to visit that theater. They mostly showed action films and other adult flicks, which did not seem appropriate for little girls to be exposed to. Then again, maybe the rules were different for huntsman households.

"You could have picked somewhere close by in case I needed to find you." Qrow huffed. "Or at least left a better message for us."

"Sorry." Tai answered sheepishly, even though it was not his fault. The theater was not that far from her office and Winona had not bothered to ask for a more complete message. It was bad luck. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"I wasn't worried." He lied through his teeth. "But why did you three come out here? Don't the pipsqueaks have school today?"

"Hey!" Ruby raised her voice, causing a few kernels to spill out.

Qrow gave her a wink to smooth over the insult. The flat look the sassy girl gave let him know she was going to need a lot more from him to forgive and forget it. Tai stepped forward and leaned towards the other two adults so only they could hear.

"An issue came up, and I think Cyan can help." His gaze slid back to Yang. "It's about what happened to their classmate. I think we might know what happened."

The shock Qrow displayed at the admission shifted into one of distrust pointed directly at the deputy. Cyan kept her cool. She had been preparing herself for this possibility ever since they had spoken with Schaffer at the orphanage. The response was measured and appropriate given the circumstances.

"Let's start at the beginning."

〇-〇-〇

Mead waited patiently at the Bullhead platform for the next available flight to Vale. Kahlua stood beside him puffing away at a cigarette she had bummed off one of the flight crew. Half of it had already burned away due to her aggressive inhales.

Tiny had taken off soon after they had arrived at the station. The fixer would have liked to catch up more with his old friend, but he needed to get back to the club. Before Tiny left, he had given out a new Scroll number for Mead to call if he needed to get in touch. Their collective brush with law enforcement had spooked him, so he was going to lay low for a while.

He had also shared the information with Kahlua on the off chance she might want to hire him for a job. Despite her animosity towards him, the big man knew that money spoke louder. She had been so distracted by her troubles, that she had taken the number down without any criticisms.

With Tiny gone, the two extralegal workers remained in silence. The fragrance of tar touched Mead's nose as Kahlua breathed out smoke. Every few seconds, she would pivot and open her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. The cigarette would instead find its way back to her lips while she stewed on what to do next.

The awkwardness had begun when she had come clean about what had happened as they walked to the station. Apparently, her and Qrow Branwen had a history. Kahlua had tried to set him up on a robbery she had committed. The very same one that had caused Huang's entire crew to be arrested.

She nearly flipped her gourd when he had filled her in on that information. Kahlua had been out of the loop since the gang had parted ways after the heist. The fact she had not been arrested was a testament to luck rather than any skill on her part. That had to be unnerving.

With this new information, the bouncer had a better understanding of what went down in the alley. He strongly suspected that she tried to use the ring exchange as a disguise to have Branwen killed. She wanted to be free of a potential risk, and that was before she even knew the full extent of the peril.

Normally, he would have been livid that she had gone off script. In the end, it had not negatively affected him, so he let it go. There was no need to cause an argument now that he had what he wanted. It was his error as the planner for not asking sooner. He would just make a mental note not to work with her again on anything this delicate in the future.

No, that was not what annoyed him. Having the space to think as they waited, Mead realized he was disgusted at the events that had put them in this situation. It was not Huang and company's deeds that chafed him, but the execution. If Mead had been consulted, he would have told them that their plan was doomed from the start.

His understanding of how the world worked would have steered them clear of the whole plot. He knew you could lie, cheat, and steal your way across all of Remnant with impunity, provided you were smart about it. Murder too. But there were limits to this freedom. Certain lines that should not be crossed.

Mead obeyed two rules to govern how he conducted himself. Simple principles that were more like common sense when scrutinized. They had been learned through experience and observation.

The first rule was to always pay taxes. This was the way most people in his line of work found trouble. Even with illegal income, you had to let the authorities wet their beak. Plenty of people would stick up a bank and then deposit the funds without being able to explain where the lien came from.

There were ways around this. You could either hide the earnings and hope that no one found them or invest in a legitimate business that could mix it in with the operating income. The latter was the most sustainable method. Mead himself had a small stake in a Vale bookstore for the occasional under-the-table dealings he took part in.

The second rule was to not mess with huntsmen. Breaking this rule got even the most experienced conman caught. Every blue moon, some crime boss or politician thought they were the biggest and baddest mother around. With this confidence, they would then do something to get on the bad side of a huntsman. They almost always, without fail, found themselves in a world of hurt thereafter.

One rather famous story was how one of the six major crime families of Mistral made that mistake. They thought they could put the squeeze on a factory to extort protection money. Unfortunately, the organization did not do their research. The factory they were ripping off primarily manufactured ammo for Haven, a huntsman academy.

One Scroll call from the plant supervisor was all it took to catch the attention of a team of huntresses. There were now five major crime families in Mistral. The syndicate should have known better. By the same token, Kahlua should have as well. Mixing in a huntsman to the plan was borderline suicidal.

With the way that she kept anxiously rubbing her head with her nails, she knew she had made a mistake. Now she was trying to dream up an easy fix. With her attempt at taking out Branwen having been foiled so easily, it must have made her nervous. As the Bullhead approached the landing zone, her scratching reached a crescendo.

"Here's our ride." He noted.

"Yeah. Our ride..." She sucked the brown filter hard, causing embers to race down the paper at an accelerated pace.

"Okay. Out with it."

"With what?"

"Whatever you are thinking about."

She lightly scoffed. While the machine landed gracefully, other soon to be passengers stood and made their way over. When the doors slid open, a few men tried to exit but found themselves blocked by the impatient masses that had gathered. Mead stayed back to allow the entanglement to sort itself out. Another woman nearby had the same idea.

"I'm thinking I need to stick around here for a little longer." She said mysteriously.

"You mean you are going after Branwen again." Mead stated while shaking his head. She did not disagree.

"If he figures out who I am, nowhere will be safe." She stated as she flicked away the leftover cig butt. "That makes it either him or me. Might as well be him, right?"

She had been hanging around Huang's men too much and had picked up some of their mannerisms. That was a line that their scuzzy lawyer liked to use. Seeing the world as a zero-sum game was what started this catastrophe. Mead needed to shake her of those thoughts before it was too late.

"Wrong. He is not some mark for you to easily swindle. Before, you might have been able to get away with it when he was not expecting you. Now he has seen your face and knows that you mean him harm."

"I don't know what else to do man!" Kahlua snapped.

The outburst made Mead pause. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. The only one close was the woman he had noticed before, but she seemed to be distracted by her Scroll. He figured it did not matter. If she had overheard, the conversation would not have made sense to her. For safety's sake, he walked them slowly towards the landed Bullhead.

"Do you want my brutally honest opinion?" Mead sighed as he asked. Kahlua bobbed her head excitedly for a solution. She was not going to like it. "You should disappear and hope he either never finds you or gets distracted with other things."

Her anticipated reaction was immediate. The look of great hope had been replaced by a sneer. It might have intimidated other people, but with Mead's years of experience, he was unaffected. He knew this was her 'arguing against the inevitable' expression.

"That's the best you got? I should cut and run?"

"Why not? You have what I assume to be a substantial amount of money waiting at home for you." He waited for her to acknowledge the fact with a nod before continuing. "I would use it to buy a new identity and live a comfortable life in some other kingdom. There are some guys I could put you in contact with to help with that."

"I don't want to leave! I have a life here."

"What life? Your boss is most likely going down for a stint in prison and you and your significant other are now… permanent exes. What do you have to lose?"

If he was truthful with himself, he was a bit envious of her position. Not of the possibility of a huntsman being after her, but of the chance to start over. He would have given anything to have the funds to begin anew somewhere else. To be able to take a shot at something different. Maybe even settle down and have a family.

His hand had slipped into his pocket and touched the receipt with Betty's number on it. He had to push that out of his mind. That was all a fantasy for someone who could afford it.

"What about Huang's uncle? Could he set me up with a job somewhere else like he did with Tiny?"

"No way. You are too hot now. He won't want you anywhere near his operations when he finds out Branwen is after you."

If anything, he might have had her dealt with so that she would not cause further problems. Mead did not think that his boss would have her killed, but he might have forced her out of Vale anyway. It would be better for everyone involved if she left on her own rather than have it decided for her.

"You've heard my recommendation. Now you need to decide for yourself what to do." He stepped onto the aircraft. He glanced back at his former student. "If you decide to take me up on my offer, get in touch. Otherwise, I wish you the best of luck."

Kahlua seemed to be lost in thought. She was at least taking his words seriously, even if he wished she would have made the decision then and there. He wanted her to give up on this folly and realize the best way of winning this kind of game was to not play at all.

Entering the cabin fully, he grabbed a seat near the back. It felt like an eternity before the doors closed and the Bullhead engines began to rumble for takeoff. He let out a weary breath and closed his eyes. There had been a small hope he had that she would get on at the last moment and come back with him to Vale.

Now he knew she would not.

The possibility that Kahlua might make the right decision was still there, but it was a remote chance. It was much more likely that she would try something foolish. Mead hoped that she would at least live long enough to regret her choices.

〇-〇-〇

Watching the machine take off with her mentor on board, Kahlua took stock of his parting words. They had affected her greatly, even if she had been resistant to the overall message. The points he raised made her conflicted.

As much as she disliked Mead's overly cautious approach to their shared trade, she would be a fool not to listen. While others around him had ended up in jail or in the ground, he had stayed above the fray. Only those who were smart or connected made it to his age. In other words, he was a survivor.

The designation of 'fixer' was not a job in and of itself, but rather a title. People recognized his skill and liked to ask for his input so they could avoid problems. He had an eye for detail that made even the boss of bosses take notice.

When Mead thought a matter was too dangerous before even hearing the particulars of the scheme, then it was probably better to avoid it altogether. If he said Qrow Branwen was someone to run away from fast, that had to count for something. Waiting any longer to start calling in the favors she needed to escape was detrimental to her chances of staying free.

What was holding her back? What had kept her from riding back to Vale? What was she waiting on?

The core conflict was that she did not want to flee. There was no small amount of pride on the line. What did it say about her if she was scared away by a cosplay reject with an oversized butter knife? What would become of the legend of the Golden Child who always made good?

Her reputation would be over if she accepted Mead's offer. It would be worse than dead. Non-existent. She would either have to go straight or start over in a new organization in another kingdom.

She would rather die.

Plus, there was no guarantee Branwen would not find her later anyway. Was it not better to deal with the danger rather than wait for it to find her? Being proactive had gotten her this far. Maybe it could carry her further.

On the other hand, Mead had spoken the truth about her limited options. Huang's uncle would not protect her. The huntsman posed a hazard to his bottom line. He would need to be subtracted from the equation if she wanted to get her life back.

Being candid with herself, she knew Branwen was not going anywhere. If Mead's story was true, that monster had taken down her entire crew by himself. She was completely and hilariously outclassed.

The more she thought about it, the more into her own head she got. She was moving in circles and was not getting any closer to deciding on a course of action. Rubbing her temples, she could feel the stress piling up with no way of alleviating the condition.

"Brothers, I need another cigarette." She mumbled under her breath.

"Sorry, I don't have one." A voice came from her left. "I had to give up that vice for medical reasons a while ago."

Looking in that direction, Kahlua found the very picture of beauty staring back. Long red hair radiated like flames around the unfamiliar woman's shoulders. The black zip up and running shoes she wore highlighted her natural good looks by elevating common clothes to supermodel status. A bright, disarming smile allowed her to come nearer.

"You look plenty healthy to me." Kahlua said with a salivating mouth. Then she thought better of her chosen words. "I mean, I hope you are feeling better."

"It was temporary." She confirmed. "But the experience taught me many valuable lessons. Life is too short to wait around for what you want."

She pressed herself into Kahlua's chest. Arms linked around her back and brought them even tighter. Her warm hazel eyes created butterflies in the thief's stomach. She could easily get lost in them if she were not careful.

"Bold."

"Very." The other woman giggled. "I've been told it's my greatest asset."

"Whoever said that must have been blind." For emphasis, she ran her hands over round hips and found a treasure. "I've found some great 'assets' right here."

"Charmer."

Truly this town was blessed with amazing talent. If it was not for the law enforcement presence forcing her out of the settlement, Kahlua might have considered settling down in the area for the women alone. Betty, Zappy, and now this one.

"Have a name, sweet cheeks?"

"Delia. And you?"

"Kahlua." She laughed at her change in luck. "What did I do to deserve this sudden attention?"

"I noticed that you were talking with an old friend of mine, so I thought I should introduce myself."

She moved nearer. Their noses brushed. Such a small gap separated them now.

"You know Mead?" If so, Kahlua wondered where he had been hiding this one. The red head lifted a gorgeous eyebrow. "The guy I was talking with who left."

"No no." Heated and staccato words caressed her lips. "I was talking about a certain dusty bird you had confronted a few hours ago."

Whatever heady thoughts Kahlua was contemplating were driven from her skull as Delia's smile turned feral. The thief tried to escape, but the hold around her increased substantially. If the red head squeezed any tighter, Kahlua was afraid her head would pop off like a cap from a toothpaste tube.

The amount of force applied seemed impossible. Kahlua then noticed a faint shimmer from the squeezer's body. She was using Aura to enhance her body in a controlled manner. While most people could instinctually create barriers, this was more advanced. With her admission to being a friend of Branwen's, that left only one possibility.

She was huntress trained.

Kahlua gurgled in shock. Her eyes searched for help but were left wanting. The platform had been deserted after the Bullhead's ascent. The next ship would not arrive for a while yet. She had been left alone with a psycho.

"I was told about you." The terror whispered while almost touching their lips. "Mr. Howe was very adamant about locating you. Imagine how surprised I was to be the first to do so."

She knew Sawyer. Such news would have been welcomed by Kahlua at any other time if her diaphragm were not currently being crushed. It did bring some hope that this stranger was not on Branwen's side. Maybe there was bad blood between them.

"What do you want?" The grifter hissed.

"The same thing as you. Dear sweet Qrow has made a few powerful people very upset. They want his life and they hired me to take it." She twinkled at Kahlua's distress. "I think we could benefit each other."

She would not elaborate on who those people were. Contract killers did not usually disclose that information. Still, it meant that the thief had a potential new ally. A new friend that could give her exactly what she wanted.

"I'm listening."

The assassin released the bear hug. Kahlua rubbed her sides and checked that none of her ribs had cracked. In the absence of any obvious damage, she tried to be more respectful. In the same way that Branwen could have ended her, this femme fatale could do the same.

"There is a way I usually like to handle risky commissions. It involves a small bit of set-up, but it has not failed me yet. Are you interested?"

The thief was very interested. The one before her appeared as if an answer to her prayers. After all, what better way to kill a huntsman than with a comparable huntress?

"Lead the way."


Author Notes: Heads up. I have revised the first four chapters of this story. I was reading through them not too long ago and found more than a few mistakes I wanted to fix. Nothing major changed except for a few alterations to improve the overall flow and correct a few grammatical errors.

Chapter Next: Deal (12/11/20)