Chapter 10

The night air was sharp, pinching his cheeks red, and the cold wind howled ominously through the towering buildings. Ramshackle towers of homes, dozens stacked so high atop each other, resembling something akin to a leaning Jenga tower. They leant so close to each other he swore if he tried, he'd be able to touch them. He could cross the distance, regardless, across the lines strung across the streets. It was a city unlike any he'd seen before. From the rooftop of one of those buildings, which was still much shorter than some of the colossal buildings, he had a pretty good view of the streets below. People moved up and down the streets, hurried, as if they didn't want to be caught out. Conversation seemed short, if there was any at all.

He focused his attention on the entrance to a club below, waiting to see if the man he'd been assigned to watch for had come out. It seemed like a tedious task but he did it anyway, oddly relieved to be out of the lab. It felt good to be on a mission.

When he heard the sound of wing beats, he looked up and Leia dropped down from above. Her shadow wings dissolved back into her and she headed to him.

"Anything?"

He turned his gaze back to the club. "Nothing. What about you?"

"I had a feeling Arlo wouldn't leave the club. He doesn't usually like to leave before sunrise, so I picked up some clothes for you," she said, dropping a bag to his side.

He stood up, turning. "So, you had me watching this club for two hours for someone that probably wasn't coming out?"

"He might have come out," she said, holding out a bag. "This is for you."

"For me?"

"The clothes," she reminded him. "Anyway, it's been a year since I saw him, so I wasn't too sure on the routine. I'm sorry. I'm not used to this."

"Dealing with a charming speedster?"

She stared at him for a moment, then the corner of her mouth twitched. "Working with someone other than Tamara or Clint. Whenever we've had to use other people, it's been more like you do this, and I watch over on high. Small missions had always just been the three of us."

"Never anyone else?"

Her cheeks coloured. "No. People might like to follow me as some kind of hero but friends? Team mate? Truth is, I'm scary and what I can do? It terrifies people."

Seemingly uncomfortable with the train of conversation she turned and walked away a few steps, setting down her bag. She started lifting out the contents; a short slinky green dress and some strappy shoes. As the awkward seconds ticked by it seemed Leia was determined to move past her little confession. She seemed embarrassed, too, and even a little angry, if her tightened expression was anything to go by.

"You better get dressed," she said, her voice clipped, distant.

When she stood, her gaze was distant, cold and she gestured for him to turn around. Confused for a moment, he stared; then she started to lift her top. His cheeks burned red and he spun around, trying to think of everything at once. So, he grabbed his clothes and forced himself to get changed; slowly, with each piece put on precisely, if only to give him enough time. He might've been changed in seconds but Leia wouldn't have.

He turned only when she cleared her throat; then the air rushed from him. She had her hands up, tugging her hair free from the braid that had her hair bound around the nape of her neck. Bit by bit, curls tumbled free and down her shoulders. Her ink black hair was striking against her skin and he tried not to stare. Her cool gaze stared back at him, the humour gone, like she was uneasy. She shifted restlessly on her feet.

"I feel stupid," she muttered. "Tamara usually does this. The dress bit. I like sitting back at the bar, dressed innocuously, giving her advice."

"You look nice," he said quickly.

She blinked, her cheeks red, though that might've also been from the cold. "Oh, thanks. You too. Well…we better get this done. The sooner we do the sooner I can put my uniform back on and we can rescue the others."

"I agree."

They started towards the door on the rooftop; at it, she grabbed the door and held it open for him.

"Whatever happens tonight, can you promise me something?" She asked, looking at him dead in the eye.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Please don't be afraid of me."

The demons inside of her were downright ravenous as she prowled forward through the writhing crowd, footsteps timed with the heavy music permeating the club. She felt like a monster on the hunt, not something she'd admitted to anyone, and though the thought disturbed part of her, she let it go. The night wasn't one for ideals and kindness; if her suspicion was right, her contact – the handler of her now captured spies – had been turned. Either by choice or by Hysteria's touch, it had to be rectified. It was also time to see if Wally could handle seeing the darker side to her nature, the truth she kept so well hidden. He'd probably run. As she glanced behind, seeing him close by her side, she hoped otherwise.

Really just hoped she wouldn't have to hurt the contact too much. As much as her demons liked it, she hated it.

She scanned the crowd, dismissing faces in rapid succession. At the back of the room, sitting at one of the booths, was him. Arlo Fawkner. She paused by the bar, leant into Wally's ear.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

With a deep breath she stepped forward, lifting her head a little, shoulders back, a sultry walk right up to the ribbons cordoning off the area. A woman clad in black leathers and two swords crossed over her back approached. Leia was in before the woman could react, slipping into her mind as if it were a glove. Talons in, she made an opening and slipped in an image. The girl had been projecting few fears, prize of which was fear for her daughter's safety. She had to leave her daughter in the care of her cousin, whom was lazy, and the bouncer fretted over something happening. A consistent fear, ripe for harvest. Leia sucked in a deep breath, savouring the sour taste in her mouth, and as she exhaled, pushed out her power, right down the tentative connection. At first nothing happened; then, she felt it. The heartbeat picking up, sweat beading across her forehead. Then the bouncer's eyes widened, a mother's fear in her eyes – not that Leia's mother had ever had that look.

The bouncer muttered something, then shot forward. Two more came, one after the bouncer; Leia slipped into the mind of the third, surging the fear of the other bouncers being hurt. He, too, hurried off, and Leia swept over to the booths.

Arlo was downing a drink, his gaze momentarily upwards; when it fell, she'd slid into his booth and the blood drained from his face. To her surprise, there was no immediate flourish of fear from him. No projection at all. If he'd been one of her inner circle she wouldn't have been surprised. Given his position, his guarded mind confirmed her suspicions.

"When did she get to you?" Leia asked calmly.

He shifted fractionally away from her, as if that extra inch might spare him from the wrath simmering away inside of her. The demons wanted nothing more than to devour his fears, to sink their fangs into his mind. Depending on his answers, she felt half inclined to.

"You couldn't just leave it, could you?" He said, turning his gaze to the empty glass. "I asked to leave."

"Which I accepted. My hand was forced when I came to you and asked if you'd consider being a handler – a far cry from the field work you did," replied Leia coolly. "You could have said no."

His gaze flickered to hers. "To the great and terrible queen of fear?"

"I wouldn't have hurt you."

"But you could never just let me walk cleanly," he snarled. "I know Tamara came to visit me, though I don't remember it."

Leia's demons hissed angrily, whispering at the edge of her mind. Let us have him. His mind would be delicious. She forced several slow breaths, yanking them back in line.

"You were one of my oldest spies. There were memories you knew you couldn't keep," she reminded him. "Now, I know my people have been taken to a processing facility but I need details."

"You think I'd know them?" He said angrily.

She gave him a hard look. "You may be in league with Hysteria but you trade in information like I do fears. You sold them out but you knew I'd come for them, so you have the information to sell – just like I know once I have it, you'll sell me out to Hysteria."

"Then why not just rip it out of my mind, make me scream until I give it up?" He hissed venomously.

Leia stood up, eyes narrowed and slammed her hands down on the table, scowling at him. "I don't torture people!"

"No? Funny, I remember a certain lab and you ripping my mind apart. Thought your dear friend Tamara could erase that?"

The blood rushed from Leia. Memories exploded in her mind. She staggered back, horrified. Shame filled her mouth, making her silent. Then, anger. She reached out; he tried to flinch away but she grabbed his collar, yanking him to her across the table. Around her, the club went silent; in the corner of her gaze she realised everyone was frozen in fear. She ignored it and leant close to Arlo.

"I was a child, tortured for weeks, pumped with enough drugs to kill a hundred people – gods knows why that didn't kill me. So don't you dare throw that in my face like I enjoyed it." She leant in even closer, their faces nearly touching. He'd see the bottomless black of her eyes, the fury burning there, the trauma and pain festering. "You sold out because a child was brutally tortured and lost control, not because I wanted to do it. So, you're going to tell me where exactly my people are being sent – is it the processing facility here in this city?"

Her power plunged into his mind and like a predator to a bleeding animal, she found the memories; their shared past soaked in screams and pain. He held his tongue, defiant as hell…so she grabbed that memory of his and squeezed until he screamed.

"Okay, okay! They're being held here but they're due to be transferred to Zarda prison for interrogation!" He blurted out.

She let go and he slumped back in his chair, his eyes shining with tears, nose runny. With a deep breath, she removed herself from the booth and stared at him pityingly.

"I never wanted to tell you this, mainly to spare you the horror of the past, figuring only one of us should be waking up at night screaming. Since you sold your soul, I might as well tell you. I was the one whom orchestrated your freedom from the lab and got Tamara to wipe your memories, hoping that freedom from that might give you a chance at a normal life." She sighed. "Now I really don't care, so I just made sure all those blocks Tamara put in are gone. Enjoy the nightmares."

She didn't care for what he had to say; she stalked out of the booth area, then to the exit. Wally fell into her side, silent.

"You're not a monster, you know," he said.

She glanced at him, weary. "How would you know?"

"I've met monsters and you're nothing like that," he replied simply. "You're just like all of, just a little screwy and that's okay."

There was something about Leia; on the outside, she looked unassuming, her eyes betraying very little. Sometimes, that mask of hers slipped; in those moments, pain was glimpsed, sometimes anger. Wally was beginning to realise that the leader of the rebellion he'd found himself in was vastly more complicated than he realised. Her power, which was so rarely used, was always perfectly controlled; even in the moment in the club where she froze everyone in the club but him, her control never wavered. He was left completely untouched by her power.

"You're really not afraid?" Leia asked, her voice soft against the sounds of the city.

Her gaze remained fastened on the colossal industrial area, fenced off by tall, well-lit fences. Trucks rolled in from the city up to the main gate, wherein there were guards that swarmed over every vehicle with a myriad of scanners. There was at least a dozen of them, no doubt packed full of scared prisoners. If Leia seemed shocked or troubled by the amount, she didn't show it.

"I'm not scared but I am questioning how we're meant to get in there," he said. "I can probably run past the guards but I'm assuming there is motion sensors?"

"You'd never be fast enough," she said, tearing her gaze away. "There's another way. How are you with heights?"

He frowned. "Fine but is your plan to just fly in?"

She stood up and pushed away from the edge of the rooftop, her eyes bleeding to full black. Her back arched slightly, then black wings burst from her back, stretched wide for a moment before folding against her back. Of course, he'd heard about the wings, the way some people spoke about it almost reverently. It was another thing entirely to see it. She held out her hand to him.

"My plan is for both of us to fly in."