Night's Children: Nox Noctis
AN: My this fic is becoming ridiculously long. Over 150 pages:Squee: sorry this chapter took a little bit longer coming out, but to be honest, I needed a break from the world of Riley, Trysten, and co.
Note: The first version I posted had a few typos, I think I caught most of them :crosses fingers:
Chapter 13: Overcome
"You." Tymmie sneered, "What the hell do you want?"
Riley followed his gaze slowly, and turned to see a boy leaning in Tymmie's doorway. He was thin and gaunt, his skin sallow and his blue eyes sunken. Although he appeared the age of sixteen, Riley could sense something far more older and sinister behind his hauntingly blank stare. Black greasy hair lay limply, cut short, and glints of silver from his face revealed numerous piercings. He was wearing a pair of shredded jeans with a shabby leather jacket that reached to behind his knees and was torn at the hem.
The boy smirked, which grotesquely twisted his features and revealed yellowing teeth, "I've been sent by the Incinti to find the Lecta." His eyebrows rose, "Should have known that you were already warming up to her."
Riley then realized the slightly humiliating situation she had put herself in. Her right hand still clutched Tymmie's shirt, and his arm was still around her shoulders. Her face flushed. This did not look good at all.
"Aw, she's blushing. Isn't that cute?" The boy sneered, his voice oily and reminding Riley instantly of a snake.
Tymmie immediately removed himself from her, and stood up, power and anger crackling around him. "Get the hell out." He growled.
He shook his head, "I have a job to do, Infidus." He walked over to Riley and she tensed, drawing upon her power, preparing to strike, "Hello, Riley isn't it?" He asked flatly, his eyes lingering and beginning to make her feel a little more than uncomfortable.
She nodded and stood up slowly, still rigid and ready to lash out at him if need be. She was a Goddess after all, not some little girl he could bully around.
Tymmie stood to the side, his arms crossed while he glared dangerously at the intruder. His face was set, and Riley didn't have to try hard to feel the pulsating waves of fury coming from him. There was definitely bad blood between these two, much deeper than that of simple rivals.
"Not a big talker, eh?" The boy questioned, drawing her attention away from Tymmie. His hand stretched to touch the spot where her amulet normally hung in what was hopefully an innocent curiosity.
Riley backed away quickly from him, and a flash of the power within darted through her eyes, "Don't touch me." She commanded, her voice cold and low.
The boy seemed to ignore her discomfort, and stepped closer, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, now have I, Lecta?"
She chewed on her lower lip then took another step backwards, "I don't see why it would matter." The signals and emotions he was projecting already told her all she needed to know. They were cold, brutal, and not even remotely human.
He just smiled, stepped closer, and trailed a finger down the side of her face. She flinched and got even further away, "I go by Isaac. I've been sent by the Inner Circle to take you to your mother." He said, his voice devoid of any personality.
Tymmie's rage seemed to reach a festering point at that moment, as he walked in front of Isaac immediately, blocking his way to Riley, "You will do no such thing. The Infidi found her first, and I won't let you trick her into going with you to the Incinti."
Isaac snorted, looking pointedly at Riley, "So you want me to step aside and let you trick her into going along with the Infidi?"
Tymmie sneered, "What are you talking about?"
Isaac laughed, "Same old trick, isn't it Tymmie? That whole 'feigned trust' routine gets a little old after a while, wouldn't you say?" He looked at Riley and gave that cold smile, "Bet he told you all about his inner turmoil and how they don't understand him, didn't he?" He shook his head in fake amusement, "Tymmie always tries to invoke a sense of mutual pain with his victims."
"Shut up." Tymmie seethed.
Riley froze, staring between the two.
Isaac snorted, "How do you plan to stop me?"
Tymmie was silent, but his posture and face revealed his intentions, he slowly cracked his knuckles.
Riley watched the pair and began to experience a feeling of betrayal when she realized how easily Tymmie had rejected his so-called 'empathy' when his rank within the Atrox was threatened.
She looked outside to the moon, the small sliver still glowing brightly, and she tried to ignore their bickering. Her thoughts drifted to what had happened before Isaac's untimely arrival. Inwardly berating herself, she tried in vain to forget the sudden breakdown she had just experienced, and more importantly, tried to forget that Tymmie, instead of insults, had offered a temporary reprieve. Riley's gaze trailed back to Tymmie, who was apparently now arguing with Isaac via telepathy, and wondered exactly what his intentions were.
It was obvious from the start that he was as loyal as a Follower could get, and it was also painfully evident that her step into the Cold Fire would promote his rankings. Yet he was not as callous or disgusting as she had originally thought. He wasn't kind, far from it, yet he was also not wholly evil. She stared at her hands, at the silver rings from her mother, wondering if she was going to end up like he did. Wondering if he was sincere with his words, or if he was just using them to manipulate her into trusting him.
The way he was bickering with Isaac over property rights seemed to imply the latter.
She grit her teeth, Tymmie was no different than any other Follower, his almost kindness had disappeared the moment another Follower was around. She was stupid to think that someone like him could be the source of any comfort or truth whatsoever. The strange sense of almost friendship that had occurred only minutes before was all a lie, a way to get Riley to accept her weaknesses and darkness faster. She would not fall for it. Riley stared at Tymmie, his own stare hard and unblinking at the boy who had just entered. He was no different than her mother or any other Follower; she was foolish for thinking so. He would use her to gain more power, all his words just a false façade to make her believe he actually felt empathy for her situation, or Trysten's, for that matter.
Just another Follower full of lies and deceit.
He would not show her an ounce of leniency, and he would most definitely give her that final shove into the Cold Fire. It was his nature, it was all their natures. Riley's body became rigid in disgust and anger directed towards herself, she had almost trusted that creep. She had shown him her weakness.
She had to get out before he used it against her, like Isaac had implied.
And then, suddenly, the thought had occurred.
The two were obviously distracted by each other; why not use this opportunity to escape? A feeling of hope surged within her; perhaps the fate of becoming her mother was not yet set in stone. Glancing at the Followers quickly, and seeing that they were still heavily concentrated on intimidating the other, she attempted to shield her thoughts and to plan a getaway.
She had to act fast, the night was passing and her time was running short. Neither Tymmie nor Isaac was to be trusted, and she doubted that such an opening for escape would present itself again.
Riley looked outside the apartment window, cursing as she realized that the street was a good three or more stories below her. Quickly, she looked to the side, hoping to see some type of a fire escape. A breath of relief came from her as soon as she saw the black, metal, ladder that was pressed against the side of the brick wall. She looked at it and saw that the ladder went down to the street, with small platforms located on each floor.
Her face fell slightly, when she realized that the ladder was a good six or so feet away from the window, making a quick leap and climb impossible. She noticed a small, cement ledge that led from the window to the escape ladder, and knew what the only option was.
She would have to inch along the ledge and then grab onto the ladder. Simple enough, except for one fact.
Riley was terrified of heights.
She sent a discreet look over her shoulder to see that the two were still fighting telepathically, their glazed over and glowing eyes a symbol of proof. She would have to be quick, as soon as they heard the window opening they would snap out of whatever argument they were having.
She took a deep breath, trying to quell her fear and stop her emotions from projecting. Slowly, she placed her hands on the sill. Quick, no hesitation. She chanted in her head.
Without a moment's vacillation, she slid the window open, and stepped outside onto the ledge.
Inside, she could guess that the two had just left each other's minds.
"What the hell is she doing?" She heard Isaac yell from the apartment.
She inched sideways, carefully pressed against the wall as she crawled towards the fire escape, her eyes clenched shut and her mind frantically praying that she didn't look down. The wind howled outside and whipped at her, and she swore it was trying to knock her off of the narrow ledge and into the asphalt below her.
She could hear the heavy boots of the pair echo as they ran towards the window, and within moments she knew they were at the sill.
Don't think about them! She scolded herself, Just make sure you don't fall and become pavement goo.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, trying to judge how close she was to the ladder. About three feet. She sighed and looked to the window to see that Isaac was already halfway out of the frame, a foot on the ledge. She paused, surprised, when she saw that Tymmie was not with him.
Shaking her head, she shuffled along faster, determined to reach the ladder before Isaac reached her.
"Gotcha." She heard from behind her and Riley looked to see that Isaac was only a few inches behind her.
Riley panicked, Isaac moved gracefully on the ledge while she continued at a snail's pace. In moments he would have her. That seemed to leave only one option.
It was either to become pavement goo, or to become a Follower.
Riley tensed before she jumped sideways off of the ledge, her hands outstretched and hoping they would land on something other than the street below.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Imy sighed contently as she snapped shut her phone. She slumped back against the couch, giving a sharp intake of breath as the movement irritated her ribs.
"Were you able to get a hold of them?" Asked her babysitter, Art.
She nodded, her face still in a grimace, "They're going to meet up with Tessa and Aria."
"That's a good thing, I take it?" Art asked her.
She gnawed on her lip as she shifted herself into a sitting position. "It's a good sign, at least. It would be better if both Tessa and Aria were still alive when they get there."
Art's eyebrows drew together in confusion, "Were they fighting Followers? Are they in danger as well?"
Imy chuckled, then hated herself for it as she felt the searing pain once again, "It's not the Followers I'm worried about."
"Then what?"
"Tessa and Aria don't exactly get along," Imy said, hissing as she adjusted herself once again.
"But aren't you supposed to?" Art inquired.
She went to shrug, stopped herself as she remembered the injured shoulder, and just sighed, "I guess so."
Art stared at her, seeming to evaluate the truth in her statement. He leaned back into the couch, "Then I'm assuming Trysten and Lance will have their work cut out for them."
There was a comfortable silence between the pair as they each sat with their own contemplations. It was Imy who finally spoke up, "Do you think…do you honestly think they can get to her in time?" Her voice was cautious, but shaky with anxiety.
Art hunched his shoulders, "Honestly? I don't know. It's a toss up, I guess." He paused and looked at her, "It depends on Riley. On her own personal resolve." He shook his head, "I'm much more concerned about Trysten than Riley."
She tilted her head, "Trysten? Why?"
He gave a smile devoid of any warmth, "Trysten has no personal resolve." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. "Trysten has already accepted the fact that he is condemned, that there's not going to be any way out for him if the Atrox are able to somehow capture him." He sent a meaningful look at Imy, "If Riley can break passed her own darkness and desires, she still has a chance."
Imy sighed and stared at her hands, "I don't know if she can do that."
Art's eyes widened, "What?"
Imy's eyes were still trained to her clasped hands, "Riley…" She shook her head.
"Riley what?" Art prompted.
She exhaled, her jagged brown bangs flying out of her face, "Riley is different than the rest of us." She paused, contemplating something more to say, "She, she's always been the one who's cold and reserved. Never talking, never complaining, just suffering through it all." She paused and gnawed on the small silver stud in the corner of her mouth, "Riley is not one to ask anyone for help, hell, she's never even asked me for help, and I've known her since we were kids."
"There's nothing you or anyone else can do to help her with this," Art argued, "It's a personal matter, not something you can burden other people with."
Imy's head snapped up to give Art a cold stare, "It would not be a burden. And I'll be damned if I allow myself to just be pushed to the side when her life is in danger."
"You don't have a choice in the matter Imy," Art replied, matching her stare with his own.
She snorted, "There's always a choice, you just have to fight for it sometimes."
"And what exactly is it that you're fighting for?" Art countered, his voice calm, never rising.
"What?" Imy said, bewildered.
"Answer the question."
"I'm fighting to save Riley, what else would I fight for?" Imy asked in astonishment.
"What if she doesn't want to be saved?" Art questioned.
"Of course she wants to be saved from the Atrox, what kind of stupid question is that?" Imy declared indignantly.
Art shook his head, "There's so much you don't know, Imy. So much you don't understand."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "I know enough about the Atrox to see that no one would want to live in the pitiful half-life existence it gives its Followers."
"What you don't know is the load it places over its Chosen." Art said bitterly, straightening in his seat, "You want to discuss a half-life existence? Think about the life of a Lecti, Invitus, or Servi. To constantly feel the pressure of the darkness, yet not being able to join it? To have your life dictated by hopelessness, but have no control over it? That's a true nonexistence. To live on the fence constantly, caught in between the conflicting desires that each side presents. To have the ever constant fear of failure, to have the urge to do good but not the will, and to have the nagging thought in the back of your head telling you that a simple decision will make it all go away. That submission will stop the inner turmoil." He paused and looked at her, a haunted look appearing in his dark eyes, "You don't know, you can't know. You haven't lived it."
"You don't have to experience the pressure in order to recognize it as something evil," Imy spat, not one for backing down in an argument.
"So what is the better alternative then? Keep up the struggle, fight the good fight?"
"Yes!" She outburst.
"What happens when you loose, Imy? What happens when there's no possible way to win?" Art continued.
"You never loose as long as at least try." Imy stated stubbornly.
Art shook his head, "Trying doesn't win against the Atrox, nothing wins against the Atrox." His face darkened, "Eventually, you will loose, and when you loose your hope, you loose everything."
Imy sneered, "I refuse to believe that. The Atrox only wins when you're too weak to carry on."
Art clenched his jaw, "That's just my point exactly. The Atrox feeds on your strength, breaks your resistance." He looked away from her, "There is no escaping it once you've been tainted by its influence."
"You're free." She said pointedly.
His voice became embittered, "For now."
"So you're just going to give up!"
"Eventually, I will have no choice." His tone was somber, "I've accepted that, the only true way out of the Atrox is death." He swallowed, "Trysten's mother bought me some time, but that's all it is, stalling." He shook his head, "I am more fortunate than the others though. I was not given immortality, if I can hold out until my death, I will be able to have a normal life. I'm not like Lance, an Immortal, or like Trysten, damned from birth."
There was silence between the two, neither of them looking at each other. After a few moments, Imy hesitantly spoke up, "Why are you telling me this?" She whispered.
At first it seemed as though he hadn't heard her, or that he ignored the question, but he slowly turned to face her, and Imy was taken aback by the fierce pain his eyes held, "So you're ready." He said quietly.
"Ready for what?" Imy questioned.
"Ready for when Riley falls to her dark side."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
She was soaring through the air.
Riley's eyes were closed, and her mind was counting down the seconds until she landed on the street below with the patented 'thwack!' sound. An inner voice kept mocking her, bringing up properties of physics and how slim the odds were that her hands would be able to grab hold of the ladder. She tensed, waiting for the sudden vertigo of falling towards death.
Yet moments passed, and it never came.
Slowly, she cracked open an eye, and almost vomited when she saw the city life of Los Angeles whirling underneath her in a flash as she passed it. Nausea from the height overcame her and she groaned.
How could this be happening? Is this what they mean when they say life flashes before your eyes? Why wasn't she hurtling light-speed towards a rather flat death?
And then it hit her.
She tried to look at the hand in front of her, and paled when she realized it was no longer there. Instead, all she could see was shadow.
Nice try, She heard whispered across her mind in a voice that was unmistakably Tymmie's.
Riley would have lowered her head in defeat, all of that had been for nothing. She was in a sense, right back to where she started. Useless, pointless.
It all clicked suddenly, Tymmie was not with Isaac because he had already converged with the shadows, and he had caught her before she had reached her destination. She didn't know whether to be thankful that he had rescued her from plummeting into L.A. traffic, or to be angry that he had diverted her escape. Her one moment of courage, was all for nothing.
Why couldn't you have just let me fall? She thought bitterly to herself, forgetting that Tymmie was a telepath.
The two of them landed a few blocks away from Tymmie's apartment. Their feet hovered gently on the road of a darkened alleyway for a few moments before setting gracefully down. The minute their feet made contact, Riley instantly recalled the queasiness that accompanied her when she traveled like a shadow, and this time, she actually retched, quickly heading behind a dumpster and effectively releasing her breakfast.
Tymmie stood there, pointedly not looking at her, his arms crossed and his posture straightened in irritation, "Just what the hell were you trying to pull?" He demanded coldly.
Riley came out from behind the dumpster, wiping her mouth and slumping down on the ground, leaning against the brick wall, panting heavily, and not answering.
"I asked you a question!" Tymmie snapped.
Riley blew a few hairs out of her face, still ignoring him.
"You could have been smashed into a pulp!" He continued, oblivious to the darkening glare on Riley's face.
"Why do you care?" She sneered, "I'm alive, you can trade me in, all's right with the world."
Tymmie exhaled slowly, counting to ten in his mind, "That's not the point." He protested.
She rolled her eyes, "Then what is?"
Tymmie opened his mouth to retort, could think of nothing, and slowly shut it. The two stared at each other, gray eyes locked on gray eyes. Tymmie's thoughts involuntarily ran back to a few minutes prior, before that ingrate of a Follower Isaac had walked into his apartment. When Riley had been crying into his shirt, allowing herself to be vulnerable. He tensed when he looked at her now. A deep streak of annoyance hit him, she seemed angry with him for stopping her fall, for saving her life! She was open with him before Isaac's intrusion, and now she was back to being guarded.
He froze when he discovered the new reasoning for the distance. Isaac. It was painfully obvious, he had sown that seed of doubt into her mind, and now it was back to square one. Could she have been so stupid as to believe that cretin?
Then he pictured her situation, and almost laughed at himself for being so oblivious. Of course she wouldn't trust him, naturally she didn't have any reason to. He was a Follower, one who made no secret of his desire to turn her over to the Atrox in order to gain power. What had happened in his apartment, the comforting gestures, the slightly normal if uneasy conversation, was all just a momentary opening of weakness, for the both of them. That's all it was. Tymmie had been coping with the new stress of Trysten poorly, just as she was coping with the pressure of her dark side. It was only natural that they would both let it leak out to each other. Just an opening of weakness, a moment of not guarding their thoughts or emotions carefully. That was all it was. No need to get truly upset.
In a way it was a great relief. Now he could do his job swiftly and efficiently, like he had done before. No emotional attachments, the lingering feeling of guilt would disappear. It was as it should be, they were enemies, and she was his prisoner until he handed her over to Lambert.
Now feeling more at ease with himself and increasingly uncomfortable with her unwavering and scrutinizing stare, he ran a hand through his hair and began to pace slightly, effectively breaking the trance-like moment. After a few seconds, he walked over to her and grabbed her forearm, pulling her into a standing position.
Riley reacted numbly to all of this, a mixture of disappointment at her botched escape, anger with distaste for Tymmie, and fear for her situation all whirling around inside of her.
She felt a pull at her stomach with a rising sensation in her throat and Riley wondered if she was going to vomit again, but as she wavered slightly, it soon disappeared. She kept her head turned down, hiding behind her long hair so she wouldn't have to look at him.
"Are you going to spew again?" Tymmie asked her rather coarsely.
She was silent.
"Well are you?" He demanded.
It was then that she felt the familiar flare ignite within her, the cold and stony silent anger she had perfected over the years of not expressing emotion. She grit her teeth, and shrugged his hand off of her, "I'm fine." She muttered in a monotone.
Tymmie sneered, although he did not want to admit it, he felt somewhat offended at her sudden callous attitude toward him. "Good." He said bluntly, "Get walking." He continued, pointing towards the left opening of the alley.
The nausea was beginning to leave her, so she stared frigidly at him and crossed her arms over her chest in persistence, "I am not going anywhere."
Tymmie snorted, and his eyes gleamed yellow in the shadow, "You think you have some sort of choice in the matter?" He scoffed, "I've been patient enough with you. Lecta or not, if you keep up with this indignant attitude of yours, I'm going to put you in your place."
She could feel the wrath bubbling up inside of her, slowly festering, "Then do it," She spat, her voice dark and bitter.
Tymmie did nothing but stand there with a blank face, his stare frightening and haunting. But Riley stood her ground, her anger on the verge of implosion. Now was not the time for pacifism, it was a time for action, to let some speck of courage she knew she must have somewhere take control. She was tired of being carted around, lied to, and constantly reminded of her weaknesses.
"I don't have time for this," Tymmie muttered in disgust, grapping her bicep and attempting to drag her off, but she remained rooted to the spot, her heels digging into the ground. "Stop behaving like a child!" He growled in irritation.
She wrenched her arm away from him and took a few steps backwards, her eyes darting around the area, looking for a method of quick escape, "I am not going with you." She hissed, "I am not going into the Cold Fire, and I am not going to become like you or my mother."
Tymmie's nostrils flared in anger, "You talk tough, but I can see it in your eyes Riley. You already are like me."
"No." She said simply, "I'm not."
"And what makes you so sure?" Tymmie answered.
"I don't use people, I don't toy with their emotions, and I don't take joy out of their misery." Her eyes flashed, "That's how I'm not like you or her." She paused, "I may be pathetic, I may be consumed by my own evil, and I may hold hatred in my heart. But I resent those qualities. I don't embrace them, I have not given up yet." The unsaid statement hung in the air, Unlike you.
His fists clenched, and his face contorted in spite, "You haven't embraced them because you do not know what they are. You don't know what you are. That's the only reason, and soon that will change, and you will see yourself in a cold, merciless truth. You are empty Riley, like the rest of us. And then, you will cave." His power crackled around him in fury, "And when you do, I will be there to watch you fall."
She stiffened, but Tymmie noticed the absence of emotions cluttering the air, she was totally calm. "Perhaps. But it won't be tonight."
It was then that Riley started to walk away.
Tymmie let her.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
One foot in front of the other, Riley told herself calmly, trying to keep her nerve and quell the feelings of anxiety as she walked away from Tymmie. She didn't expect him to let her walk away. But he did. She had assumed he would cart her off before she could get a good two feet's distance. But he didn't.
As soon as she had turned the corner, Riley broke into a full sprint down the side street, hoping against hope that when Tymmie came to his senses, she would be far enough away. She wasn't a match against him, far from it, so her only option was flight.
Pumping her arms and legs as fast as she could, she kept her head lowered as her feet slapped rhythmically against the pavement. Soon, there was a sharp pain in her side, but she ignored it, desperately trying to get away.
Her foot caught on an edge of her pants, and she stumbled. Luckily, she was able to balance herself and keep upright by balancing with her arm. She nimbly jumped over scattered trashcans, and soon saw the break of the darkened alleyway, and the neon lights of the Los Angeles nightlife beckoning to her a few buildings away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked quickly around the alley, to ensure Tymmie had not chased after her. Riley quickly turned around to see if he was behind her. She scrutinized the area carefully, and she gave to slight grim smile she was known for when she realized he had not followed after her.
She whirled quickly around, only to crash into someone's chest. She fell on her butt from sheer shock at the new presence, and when she saw who it was, she scrambled up and away from him.
"You weren't thinking about leaving, were you?" Came the cold voice of Isaac, his arms over his chest, and his trench coat seemed to billow like they did in bad science fiction movies. His eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, and Riley had to muster a hard swallow.
"H-H-How?" She stammered, trying to summon her powers, but failing miserably.
Isaac shook his head slowly, his black hair cluttering his face and giving him the appearance of an escaped mental patient, "That was a crazy little stunt, but I'm not stupid." He said lowly.
There was a heavy, quiet feeling in the air, and Riley's eyes darted around desperately, trying to find a way to get from Isaac and into the public, where bystanders would discourage an attack. For a moment she wondered about calling Tymmie, but that thought was quickly dispelled. She'd just be passed from one Follower's hands to the next.
"You're coming with me to the Incinti, Riley," He commanded, outstretching a pale hand to grab for hers.
She shook her head and backed away, "No." She protested, feeling some of the ancient power within her.
Isaac threw back his head and laughed, "You honestly think you have a choice in the matter, little Lecta? You belong to the Atrox now."
"I don't belong to anyone," She snipped, feeling some relief as she saw the gray haze form around her, signifying her energy gathering.
Isaac sneered, "You have to do this the hard way, don't you?" He said reproachfully, "Fine by me, little Riley." He stated, cracking his neck and getting into a fighting stance.
Riley exhaled, and tensed, waiting for the fight to begin.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
As soon as Riley was out of sight, Tymmie crashed his fist against the bricks, uttering a bestial grunt in his frustration. His anger somewhat spent, he exhaled slowly and slumped against the wall, his head leaning back against it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to forget that he had just let a Lecta walk away from him because he was irritated with her. After a few moments, he turned his lifted his head with hesitation.
"You can come out now." He said without enthusiasm or joy.
"That was a very stupid thing to do," Came a low, feminine voice as a pair of yellow eyes shined from the shadows of the alleyway, and soon Tymmie saw the figure of Cassandra emerge. Her maroon hair pulled back in a bun, the ghost-scars of STA visible under the base of her throat, "If I know Lambert, he won't be pleased."
"She's your damn kid," Tymmie replied.
"Not anymore." She said bluntly.
He paused, then nodded in agreement. "What do you want Cassandra?"
"Jimena knows that Riley is with you." She warned; she looked down the alleyway, where Riley had gone. "Not that it matters now." She said sardonically.
"She'll come back. They always come back," Tymmie said, and then froze, "How does Jimena know?"
"I told her."
"Why would you do something like that?" Tymmie demanded, "Incinti or no, it's a pretty pitiful way to gain an advantage."
"I had…a moment of weakness," Cassandra replied, her facial expressions yielding no help in finding her motive.
Tymmie scrutinized her for a few moments, trying to judge her intentions, but Cassandra gave away nothing. "Why tell me this?" He asked, "Why not just use your slip-up to give the Incinti the head start?"
"Because the Incinti already has more than enough of a head start," Cassandra responded, "They've sent Isaac after Riley."
Tymmie snorted, "I know. The Atrox's whipping boy already paid a visit to my apartment."
Cassandra raised an eyebrow in bemusement, "Where is he now?"
Tymmie gave the old cocky grin once again, "Lost him."
Cassandra shook her head, "Don't be so arrogant. It won't be long before he returns."
Tymmie sighed and leaned his head back. Of course he knew. Isaac belonged to an elite class of Regulators, ones that had been trained in tracking to perfection, and Riley wasn't the first Lecti that he had been chosen to retrieve for the Inner Circle. He was normally Tymmie's only true rival for that field, and Cassandra was right when she said it wouldn't take him long to find them. He hated the other Follower's guts, but he had to respect his abilities.
"I know." Was all he said in defeat.
Cassandra placed a hand on her hip and stared at him in curiosity, "Why exactly did you let her go?"
"She was being a pain in the ass," Tymmie supplied.
"No, that's not why." She paused, "You've had worse Lecti to control. Why let Riley go?"
Tymmie huffed, "None of your damn business."
"She's my daughter."
"Not anymore," Tymmie retorted, throwing her earlier words back at her.
Cassandra shot him a look of venom, and opened her mouth to say something, when suddenly her head snapped up, "Riley." She whispered.
Tymmie gazed at her in confusion, and then turned to look where she was staring. The darkened alleyway Riley had run off to seemed ominous in the dark.
In a few moments, the pair heard the sound of a scream echo throughout the night.
"Oh shit." Tymmie muttered.
The reaction was instant. Cassandra bolted off first, heading quickly towards the source of the sound, Tymmie was right after her, knowing who the scream belonged to.
When the two reached the end of the alleyway, just before it entered the main street, they saw a darkened figure hunched over something, its back to them.
"Isaac," Cassandra said crisply, "Where is Riley?" She demanded.
Tymmie's fist tightened when he recognized the shadowy figure, "Give her back you bastard," He swore through clenched teeth.
Isaac began to chuckle, and he slowly stood up then turned around. Both Cassandra and Tymmie tensed when they saw the body of an unconscious Riley cradled in his arms. Her eyes were closed, and a dark aura seemed to encircle her head. Isaac looked rather rough, his lip was cracked and his nose was bleeding. "I've got her, don't worry." He crowed.
"What the hell did you to do her?" Cassandra outburst.
"Hmph," Isaac said dismissively, "She's lucky I didn't do more. Little spitfire got a few good throws in." He paused and looked at the two, "What's this, Cassandra? Fraternizing with the scum of the enemy?"
"Watch yourself, Isaac," Tymmie spat, "Give the Infidus Riley back."
"No can do," He said, then he turned and looked at Cassandra, "The Incinti will not be pleased with this." And soon he began to shift.
Tymmie charged at him, determined to stop Isaac before he disappeared with Riley in tow, but it was to no avail, because his outstretched hands had touched nothing but air.
Isaac had disappeared into the shadows.
And he had taken Riley with him.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
That's it for this chapter, folks! But it marks a pivot in the storyline, after this, things are going to become much more action-orientated and gearing towards a conclusion. Yayers!
Next Up: Tessa, Aria, Lance, and Trysten team up and begin their search, but Jimena and Gordon aren't going to stay in the background for much longer.