Chapter Three


Garen drummed his fingers on the dash, an amused smile on his lips. "Let me get this straight," Garen said, relishing the scowl of annoyance on Katarina's face. "You need a ride to three different places, and I'm not allowed inside a single one?"

"Yeah," Kat said. "That's it."

"That's it," Garen repeated. He chuckled, and was pleased to see Katarina's scowl deepen. He was willing to help her out; he didn't have any Demacian business to attend to today, and he'd finished his homework already, since there hadn't been much of it. He had nothing better to do, and he quite enjoyed Katarina's company. So he would help her. But teasing her was turning out to be far more fun than he'd expected. "You know, I didn't expect you to miss me so much that you'd call me and ask me to drive you around town."

"Shut it, Crownguard," Katarina said, "I didn't miss you , I just need a ride."

"Don't you have four or five cars?" he asked. The DuCouteaus weren't exactly lacking for money; he was sure they had several cars, given how wealthy they were.

She gestured around, to the empty street. "Do you see four or five cars here?" she asked. Garen shrugged.

"I just don't know why you can't ask your parents to pick you up," Garen said. Surely, even if Kat and her siblings didn't have a car with them for whatever reason, their mother or father would be able to pick them up.

Katarina stiffened, and she looked away. "None of your business," she said tersely, and he wondered if he had struck a nerve. He wasn't sure what he'd said wrong. But that wasn't what Garen was thinking about right now.

"I think it is my business, since you want me to drive you around." An idea struck him, and he knew that this had to be why she was acting so secretive about the whole situation. "You don't want your parents to know," he said.

Katarina snorted, paused, and then said, "You're too smart, you figured it out."

Garen missed the sarcastic edge to her voice and let out a triumphant guffaw. "So whatever it is you're doing, your parents don't approve!"

Garen didn't miss Katarina's eye roll, but he was too pleased with his successful deductive skills to really care. "So, where am I taking you?" Katarina had initially asked him to bring both her siblings along, but there wasn't enough room in the truck for all of them, unless they wanted to ride in the back, which Garen was adamantly opposed to. "There are no seatbelts!" he'd objected when Kat had suggested it. Lux had still been in the truck with him when Kat had texted, so she was staying behind with Katarina's siblings, whom she shared classes with. Garen hadn't liked the way Kat's brother had looked at Lux, but Garen knew his sister was able to take care of herself, so he had no reservations about leaving her with the DuCouteau siblings. In fact, Lux seemed more than willing to be left behind, and Garen wondered if his sister was plotting something, as she was prone to do when bored.

Sure, the DuCouteaus were suspected Noxians. But there had never been any proof, and while Katarina wasn't exactly the nicest person, she'd never given Garen any reason to suspect she was a bloodthirsty, murderous gang member. She was a little abrasive, sure, but nothing that extreme. And the same was true of her siblings. Besides, even if Lux did somehow end up in trouble, she had several means of contacting him and Demacia to let them know if anything was wrong.

Katarina began to give him instructions on how to get to the buildings, and Garen followed them carefully, sure to never make a wrong turn or go over the speed limit. Kat groaned. "Are you seriously driving thirty in a thirty five zone?"

"I'm driving thirty four," Garen corrected, slightly affronted that she thought he was driving that slowly. "I can't go over the speed limit."

"Can you at least drive thirty five?" Kat grumbled, and Garen shook his head.

"No. It's the speed limit—I can't pass it without breaking the law. And if I drive thirty five, chances are that I might accidentally go over at some point."

"Right, I forgot you were the police chief's son," Kat muttered, then stared out the side window and rattled off the next few directions. The location was surprisingly complicated to get to, requiring several deviations and unexpected turns. Finally, the pair stopped in front of a nondescript, gated warehouse.

Katarina unfastened her seatbelt (Garen had refused to drive until she'd buckled up, much to her chagrin) and walked briskly to the metal gate as Garen removed the keys from the ignition. He exited the vehicle and followed her, coming up behind her as she unlocked the gate and stepped past it.

She caught sight of him and shook her head. "You stay out there," Kat told him and made to close the gate, and Garen stopped her from slamming it on him by pushing back against it. He was stronger than her, so he pushed the gate open and stepped inside before closing it. She glared at him.

"I won't do anything," Garen said, raising his hands, "but I told you already, I want to make sure you're not doing something I don't want to be involved in."

"I'm not dealing drugs or anything like that, Crownguard," Kat said with a huff, and Garen was actually relieved at that. Though he liked Katarina, he was still wary about the rumors that linked her family with Noxus. There was no proof, but Garen still wanted to be sure that he wasn't inadvertently associating himself with the wrong kinds of people, or helping Katarina get into trouble in some way. Drug dealing had crossed his mind, but since she said that wasn't what this was…

"I'd feel better about driving you around if I knew for sure that you were safe," he admitted. Katarina glared at him silently for several moments before sighing, then turning and heading towards the entrance to the warehouse.

"I'm just looking around, trying to see if... I left something behind," Kat explained as he hurried to catch up to her. She unlocked the door to the warehouse and entered, flicking the lights on.

There was little to be found within the warehouse. There were several crates on one end, and Garen was surprised to see a small office area to one side, where Katarina headed. She entered the office, and Garen followed as she turned the lights on inside here, too. It was a small area, no larger than a small bedroom. And there was a bed on one end, along with some chairs and a desk. The arrangement was strange, and Garen couldn't figure out why there was a bed in a warehouse. It was odd.

There were several file cabinets that lined the wall on the opposite end of the bed. It was towards these that Katarina headed, and she opened the drawers and pulled several files from the shelf, rifling through them with a frown before replacing them. She moved to the desk next, and searched through the drawers, her frown deepening. She checked the bed next, searched under it, then sighed.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?" Garen asked, and she shook her head.

"No," she replied as they left the office space and moved towards the crates. Katarina grabbed a crowbar which had been left on top of one of them, and began to pry at one of the crates. She opened it with much effort, and peered inside before snorting and moving on to the next crate.

"Here, let me do that," Garen offered, and Kat let him take the crowbar from her and open the crate. He glanced inside and was greeted with the sight of cans of food. Kat glanced at the contents and snorted once more, then directed him to open another crate.

And so it went on for about ten minutes, and they found nothing besides cans of food, jugs of water, and other necessities for living.

"Is this a safe house?" Garen wondered aloud as they replaced the lid on the last crate, which had been filled with a supply of toilet paper.

Katarina didn't answer, though Garen supposed that was answer enough in and of itself. Garen wasn't sure why they were looking through a safe house owned by the DuCouteau family. Though, given that the DuCouteaus were rich and powerful, perhaps it wasn't all that strange that the place existed. Their position of wealth made them a target, and the family was old enough to likely have made many enemies. But what kind of enemies would they have to warrant a safe house? Garen wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"My Dad's a little paranoid," Katarina said, breaking the silence as they moved to the exit.

"I see," Garen said. Perhaps that was her way of trying to explain why they had a safe house stocked with enough provisions for a year. Paranoia would explain it, of course, but it had taken Katarina so long to provide the excuse, Garen wasn't sure that it was one he could believe.

They were silent as Kat locked the place up again and they entered the truck once more. Garen started up the engine and once more followed Kat's directions across town. This time, since there was little in the way of conversation, Garen decided to turn on the radio.

Katarina was quiet for a bit, the air between them filled with music, before she broke the quiet. "You listen to rock? I thought you'd be into classical music or something."

"I do enjoy classical music. It's soothing," Garen said as he slowed down at a yellow light and stopped when it turned red. "But rock music has a certain appeal to it. It has a nice sound, and there's an underlying beat that's... energizing."

Katarina was quiet, and Garen barely resisted the urge to clear his throat. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" she asked.

"Do you like rock?" He wanted to slap himself on the face. He couldn't have just asked what kind of music she liked?

She was quiet for a while longer before answering. "Yeah, I like rock," she said. And that was all.

He felt his ears warm a little at the thought that they shared similar music tastes. "How about classical?"

She snorted. "It's all right," she admitted, "but I can't listen to more than a few minutes without getting bored."

Garen laughed. "I guess we have that in common, then," he said. "I find the sound of classical music soothing—too soothing. It lulls me into naps if I'm not careful." He hesitated before his smile turned bashful. "I once fell asleep at a symphony concert. I don't think my mother's ever forgiven me for the embarrassment I caused the family."

Kat let out an uncharacteristic, quick laugh, and Garen found himself with the desire to hear that pleasant sound again.

"Good job, Crownguard," she said, "Tarnishing the family name at a public function. Tut-tut."

"Lux teases me about it, I don't need you to tease me about it, too."

Katarina made a contemplative sound. "Did you know my brother's in the same gym class as your sister?"

Garen shook his head, unsure as to why she'd brought it up. "No, I didn't. Why?"

Kat hummed and glanced out the window once more. "Just wondering," she said, and then directed him to turn right and stop at the end of the block, in front of an office building. A gated office building, just like the warehouse had been. Katarina's keys jingled as she sorted through them, and then she sidled out of the truck and moved to the gate. Though he tried his best not to, Garen inadvertently found his gaze drawn to her form as she moved. Her hips swayed enticingly from side to side, and her hair drifted in a slight breeze. Her legs were long, longer than he'd noticed before. He realized he was still sitting in the car as she approached the gate with her key, and he hurriedly unfastened his seatbelt and hopped out of the truck, closing the door and locking the vehicle before turning to the gate just as Katarina slipped through.

And as he approached to follow, Kat spun around, closed the gates, and locked them in one swift motion. Garen's jaw dropped as he realized what had happened. She'd locked him out.


Katarina had been in a good mood after her conversation with Garen. She'd never admit that she was warming up to his company, nor would she ever admit that she had been pleasantly surprised to find he liked rock music, too. So as she'd moved to unlock the gate, she'd had her guard down. It hadn't been until she was standing right in front of the gate that she'd noticed—the gate was unlocked. And she'd seen a black car with tinted windows on the side street, which was usually empty. She should have realized then, but she'd been too distracted...

She heard Garen getting out of the truck, and she knew he would try to follow her. But the gate being unlocked could only mean one thing: this safe house had been compromised, and there was the possibility that whoever had done this, be they of The Black Rose or otherwise, would still be inside.

Garen was just an innocent civilian. She couldn't—wouldn't—let him get mixed up in this mess, she wouldn't let him get killed. So she made a decision in a split second and stepped through the gate, and then closed and locked it behind her.

"Katarina!" Garen let out in a yell, and Kat sincerely hoped there was nobody left inside who he might have just alerted.

"Garen, you've got to sit this one out," Kat said quietly.

"Katarina, I can't let you—"

"If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, call your father," Kat said, hoping the severity in her tone would come across and calm him. She didn't wait to find out, though. She spun around and walked briskly to the front of the building. She didn't bother trying to find the appropriate key for the building; she tried the door and, as she had suspected, the people who had broken in had left it open.

Ideally, she'd have her gun at the ready when performing this type of blind operation, where she had no idea of the enemies' numbers or strength. But if Garen were to hear the sound of gunshots, he'd call the police immediately. This particular safe house had various records pertaining to Noxian dealings; if the police found them, they'd have evidence that the DuCouteaus were a part of Noxus, and they could seize all of the family assets, freeze their accounts, and potentially arrest them all. Of course, the place had been compromised already, so who was to say that whoever had been here hadn't already alerted the police? Kat couldn't worry about that now; she had to work under the assumption that whoever had been here was still here, and that they hadn't yet alerted authorities about anything inside.

Kat drew her daggers, which had been hidden beneath her jacket, and gave them an agitated twirl. If there were still people inside who were armed, they would have to die, no questions asked. She couldn't allow anyone with information about this safe house to leave alive. And while she had no gun, she was quite content with her odds. She wasn't called The Sinister Blade for nothing. Though The Black Rose had managed to take her father, it didn't mean that Katarina wouldn't be able to put up a fight if she had to deal with the same men.

The office building was mostly empty. The family only used a few rooms on the highest floor. Kat took the stairs, racing silently up them, glad for the skills her father had taught her on how to move about undetected.

When she reached the top floor, she headed down the hallway to the office that held DuCoutau files, and she pressed her ear to the door and listened intently, hoping at least some of the intruders were still there. She wasn't disappointed. The sound of talking could be heard as a man inside gave directions for other men to search through some boxes. They were looking through the family files, then.

If these were regular thugs or policemen, Katarina had no cause for worry; she could take them out in her sleep. If they were from The Black Rose, though, she would have her work cut out for her. Nonetheless, if she were to struggle against them, and it took too much time, Garen would call the police; in that case, the intruders would be forced to retreat.

Katarina listened to their voices through the door and counted three different tones, all male. It was good thinking, to keep the party small so as to avoid attracting unwanted attention; it allowed for stealthier operations and faster transit. But it also meant that Katarina shouldn't have a difficult time taking out these targets.

They were entirely unaware of her presence, which was odd. Perhaps, after capturing her father, they'd let their guard down. Or perhaps they were just simple thugs who hadn't the foresight to expect someone to interrupt them. Regardless, Katarina was done waiting.

She gripped her daggers tightly and, in one swift movement, swung the door open. Three men were in the room, dressed in black; one man was facing away from her, about to pick up a box of files. Another was holding a file, looking through its contents. And the last man was hefting a box into the air, about to place it upon a row of stacked boxes.

With the clock ticking, and the men starting to react to the sound of the door opening, Katarina didn't have the time to prioritize her targets based on their actions or appearances. She went for the closest one—the one stacking boxes.

Her first dagger impaled itself into the man's temple before he had fully finished turning to face the door. Her second dagger found the man perusing the file, slicing through his skin and embedding itself within his skull.

The last man, who had been facing away from her, had turned around just in time to see the two men's bodies fall to the ground, and his eyes widened in shock. She threw a dagger lazily at his leg, and she ran forward, punching him in the gut so that the wind was knocked out of him, and he wouldn't be able to scream. She circled around him in an instant, her dagger at the ready.

"Answer my questions, and I might let you live," Katarina said softly as she placed a knife to his throat. The man was shuddering, and he swallowed, causing the blade to press harder against his throat.

"How many of you are there?"

"Just us," the man squeaked. His breathing came quickly, causing him to sound winded. So there weren't any more of them in the building. If the man wasn't lying.

"Are you from The Black Rose?"

"I don't know what that is," the man squeaked, "Please, please don't kill me!"

Katarina frowned. They'd been looking through files—something common thieves wouldn't have been doing. And this man didn't seem trained—he was blabbering like an idiot, shaking like a fool.

"Why were you here, and what were you doing?"

"I-I was offered money," the man said, "the man over there," he said, pointing to the man who had been looking over one of the files, "said he'd pay us each ten thousand dollars to help him move his boxes for him, and another thousand to stay quiet about it."

Kat snorted. So she'd killed the man who actually knew what was going on, and spared an idiot. Great, she thought ruefully, Good going, Kat, you fucking idiot.

"Did he say his name?"

"N-no," the man said. "He said he was going to pay us, and—"

"Did he just pick you up off the street?"

"Yeah," the man admitted.

"Did he tell you why he wanted them?" she asked.

"N-n-no," he whimpered.

"Did he tell you anything?" she asked, exasperated.

"No," the man squeaked.

"Tch," she let out, and then sliced the man's throat, severing his artery. She held him as he bled, and then she wiped her blade clean on his shirt and dropped his body to the ground.

So the man had known about the files... Kat groaned. She'd have to check the security tapes. But she didn't have the time to do that, since she'd told Garen to call the cops if she wasn't back in fifteen minutes. Which meant...

Katarina eyes the boxes and grumbled as she ran to one and picked it up. It was heavy, filled with loads and loads of files. She moved it out of the room and to the outside of the room, then hurried to do the same to the rest of the boxes. After moving most of the boxes, she realized she needed to make sure she still had time left.

She checked her phone and wanted to scream. She only had a minute left before Garen would call the cops. She hesitated before calling him and returning inside the office, holding the phone between her shoulder and head as she picked up a box of files.

He answered on the first ring, his voice urgent. "Katarina, are you all right? Do I need to call the police?"

"I'm fine," Kat said. Unlike those men. "Listen, don't call the cops, I'm fine."

"Why did you want me to—?"

"The gate was unlocked," Kat said by way of explanation. "I just wanted to check if anybody was inside."

"Katarina!" Garen gasped. "That's dangerous! What if there had been somebody?"

"I can take care of myself," Kat said, smirking as she placed the box in the hallway and headed back inside to grab the last of them. She ignored his protests and explanations of how dangerous going inside had been when there could have been all manner of burglars, thieves, rapists, or murderers lurking inside. "Listen, I'm moving some boxes—can I put them in the back of your truck?"

"...Yes," Garen said, and she could tell by the clipped way he said it that he was disgruntled, probably upset she'd gone inside and wasn't listening to his reprimands.

"Great," Kat said, lifting up the last box. "I'm going to need your help carrying these downstairs."

"Sure," he said, "I can do that. What floor are you on?"

"Fifth. I'll come downstairs and unlock the gate—"

"No need," Garen said, and Kat was confused by the remark.

"Wha—?" she began, but Garen interrupted her.

"I climbed over it," he explained. "Also, I think the elevator is broken."

Katarina would have ran a hand down her face in annoyance if she hadn't been holding the box. She placed it atop the box she'd just put down earlier and took the phone into her hand. "What the fuck, Crownguard?" He'd scaled the wall? When had he done that?

"I'll be there in a minute," Garen said, and Kat rolled her eyes as she ran back inside the office and searched the desk for some packing tape.

It took her longer than she'd anticipated, and she heard heavy footsteps in the hallway—Garen. She raced through the door and slammed it shut just as Garen came close. Hoping to keep him away from the office, she offered him a smile and waved the tape.

"Just have to tape them up, then we can move them downstairs," she said.

Garen eyed the boxes warily. "So we have to carry them... down five flights of stairs?"

Katarina nodded. "Yeah," she said. She could get the elevators started, but that would require going back into the office to find the proper keys. Besides, she needed to keep Garen busy so that she could retrieve the security tapes, to find out who had compromised the building, and when.

Katarina taped the boxes closed, and Garen began the daunting task of lifting them and carrying them downstairs. He took two boxes, one under each arm, and Katarina hurried past him once they'd reached the bottom floor and unlocked the gate for him. She paused before re-entering the building, eyeing the gate. It was pretty tall—despite herself, she was impressed that Garen had hopped it. Annoyed, but impressed.

She held the door open for Garen who, surprisingly, wasn't winded by the long trip carrying the heavy box. Another thing to be impressed by; it seemed Garen was full of surprises. "I opened the gate for you," she told him. He nodded in thanks, and she returned inside the building, this time heading to the second floor and down some hallways until she reached the security room.

She unlocked it, and then went inside. The cameras had been turned off, she noticed, and she cursed. She began sorting through the recordings of the previous week, grabbing as many as she could and stuffing them inside her backpack. Quite frankly, she was lucky the tapes were still here, if The Black Rose was involved. This was one of the sloppiest jobs she'd seen; no guards, security tapes left behind, operatives and civilians unprepared for an attack. She wasn't sure this was the work of The Black Rose, given the absolutely shitty job they'd done. But she hoped these security tapes would provide the answer, and help her find out exactly who broke in.

Her backpack was pretty full after she was finished, but that was all right with her. She made her way downstairs to dump her backpack on her seat, but the truck was locked. Kat made a quick count and realized there was only one box left upstairs—so that must be where Garen was. She decided to go up and make him give her the keys, that way she could put her backpack down and get the engine started. She jogged up the stairs and made her way down the hallway, and as she came into view of the office, her heartbeat nearly stopped at the sight of Garen with his hand on the office door.

"Crownguard!" she cried, and he started.

"Oh! Katarina!" he said, his hand still on the door. In his other hand he waved the tape. "I'll just put this up really quickly, and then—" he said as he began to turn the doorknob.

"Wait!" she practically yelled, racing to close the distance between them and yanking the tape from his hands as an excuse to wedge herself between him and the door. "You, you, uh," she stuttered, trying to come up with something to distract him. "Y-you locked the truck."

He nodded. "Yes," he said, and Kat almost breathed a sigh of relief as his hand left the doorknob. "I don't want anybody breaking in or stealing it."

Kat rolled her eyes, then nodded to the last box. "Why don't you take that down? I'll take care of this," she said, gesturing to the tape she held, "and meet you down there."

Garen nodded. "All right," he said, and he hefted the last box over his shoulder and strode down the hallway towards the stairs... humming.

Kat snorted and waited until he was out of sight before opening the door and replacing the tape inside the desk. She hesitated, then searched over the desk and through the drawers, wondering if perhaps her father had left something here. But there was nothing besides pens and paper, and Kat slammed the lowest drawer shut in frustration. She took a deep breath to compose herself, and then opened it again to retrieve the lighter inside, buried under sticky notes.

This building had been constructed with safety in mind; the walls were thick enough to stop bullets, and the structure was sturdy enough to survive earthquakes. The security system had been top of the line, and the place had the potential to be a fortress. There was really only one thing it was missing, and it was no accident. Her father never made mistakes, and he knew what he was doing when he opted to forego the sprinkler system. Kat flicked the lighter on and held it, waiting, until the highly flammable desk caught on fire. Then she set the computer on fire, set the wallpaper on fire, and set the clothes on the dead bodies on fire. Then she stepped over the dead bodies and made her way downstairs. The fire would spread quickly, aided by the carpet and the wooden paneling throughout the building. It wasn't the cleanest arson, but it would be effective. The fire wouldn't become visible until later, and by then, she and Garen would be long gone.

Garen was waiting, the engine running and the truck ready to go. Katarina slid inside and dumped her backpack at her feet, letting out a groan as she stretched and then fastened her seatbelt.

"Were those boxes what you needed?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No," she said. "They're not what I'm looking for."

Garen drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Katarina," he began, his voice low and serious, sending a slight shiver down her spine, "how am I supposed to know you aren't stealing this?"

God, this guy was overly cautious. "Crownguard," she said, "those are my father's personal records. The gate was unlocked, so that means somebody broke in—I'm not going to potentially leave my Dad's information for the taking."

Garen hummed slightly, and then he began to change gears and get the car moving. "I'm going to trust you," he said. Good thing he was so trusting; but that could get him killed some day, she thought. "So, onto the last stop, right?"

She nodded, and gave him directions to the last safe house. It took them a good ten minutes to navigate downtown, and Katarina sunk low into her seat, letting her hair fall over her face and obscure her features as they entered Noxian territory in the heart of downtown. Several neighborhoods and streets were under Noxian influence, and Katarina knew that if she spotted someone she knew, it might spell trouble if word got back to The Black Rose somehow. At this time of day, when the sun was still bright overhead and traffic was heavy in the streets due to rush hour, there was little chance that there would be many Noxians openly walking the streets. The fact that she was traveling in Garen's truck rather than her own car would help further keep Noxian eyes off of her.

Still, it was a precautionary measure. What with those men who had infiltrated the safe house and with the men who had kidnapped her father, Katarina was realizing that to err on the side of caution was most definitely the right move. And speaking of precautionary measures—she needed to keep Garen out of the last safe house. If there were more men, she didn't want to have to deal with the messy situation which would arise. She would have to kill, and that would make Garen connect the dots to her being a member of Noxus, and then she would have to kill him, and then she wouldn't just be worrying about finding her father, but also about keeping the police chief from finding her. All in all, not a situation she ever wanted to end up in.

The alternative was to let him accompany her, and hope for the best.

Screw that, she thought. "Garen, you're staying outside this time," she said as he pulled up in front of an old, run down, nondescript apartment complex.

Garen shook his head vehemently, a deep frown lining his face. "I can't do that, Katarina," he told her, "If you're worried about people breaking into your safe houses—like at the last one—then I want to make sure you're all right."

"I can take care of myself, Crownguard," Kat said, perhaps a little more roughly than she'd intended.

"I believe you," he said, parking the car across the street and putting the keys in his pocket. Then he reached down, rolled up his pants leg, and produced something Katarina had never expected to see. "But it would make me feel better to know that you're safe, and I have this to help in case a burglar shows up."

In his hand, he held a small tranquilizer gun. The same kind that was used by Demacia. Katarina had seen enough of them—had been shot at by one of them—to instantly recognize it.

"Is that—?" she began, and he cut her off with a nod.

"A tranquilizing gun. The same kind used by Demacia and the police force. My father got it for me, and told me to only use it in case of an emergency. I think encountering burglars counts as an emergency."

Katarina let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and she felt waves of tension leave her. So he wasn't a member of Demacia; he was just using a gun his dad had gotten for him.

Katarina considered her options. One: knock Garen out and search the safe house herself. Two: keep arguing until Garen agreed to stay out in the truck while she searched the safe house herself (not likely). Or, three: let Garen accompany her, and hope he was a good shot in the event that there were intruders.

Katarina didn't like any of the options,but the easiest one was to let Garen come with her. Easier in the sense that she wouldn't have to deal with him arguing and being stubborn about it. And, well, if he was a good shot...

"Fine," Katarina said, ignoring the triumphant smile that lit up Garen's face. "But don't get in my way, and don't accidentally shoot me." She waited until Garen nodded in understanding, then left the truck, the young man following at her heels.

"I won't hit you," Garen said, "My aim's pretty good." With great difficulty, Katarina resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at his statement.

"Great," she said, hoping it would encourage him to be quiet. He was almost like a puppy, she found herself thinking—sticking around you no matter what, and responding well to positive reinforcement and encouragement. Also very cute, but she would never admit she found either puppies or Garen cute.

Katarina made her way inside the apartment complex, and they took the stairs to the second floor. Kat led them down a hallway, and she stopped in front of room 276. She unlocked the door and then beckoned him inside. The apartment was small, but spacious. It looked like a normal living space, but that was the point, of course.

In reality, there were several weapons stashed around the place, a state-of-the-art security setup, a safe containing several hundred thousand dollars in case of an emergency, and food to sustain a single person for up to a year. The rooms with windows had black curtains and tinted panes, to ensure privacy; and the apartment itself was comfortable and homey. Her father had never particularly liked this safe house, but their mother had decorated it before she passed away. Katarina's father had never changed anything about the place since she passed, so perhaps a piece of her mother lived on in the small apartment.

The first thing Katarina noticed when she entered the apartment was that there was a lot of green; the sofa, the armchairs, the wallpaper. And then she remembered that green had been her mother's favorite color. 'The color of your father's eyes. The color of your eyes,' her mother had told her once as she pinched Kat's cheek, when she was still young.

The second thing Katarina noticed was that the air conditioner was on. Usually, such a thing wouldn't have bothered her, nor warranted her attention. But the air conditioner was usually left off when the place wasn't in use.

So perhaps, Kat realized, it was in use. Perhaps, a small part of her hoped, though she knew she shouldn't even entertain the thought—perhaps it was her father, safe and sound and taking refuge in this place.

"Someone's here," Katarina said softly to Garen, so that nobody would hear her. Whoever it was had probably heard her open the door, since the AC didn't make enough noise to cover the sound of her keys and the door itself. The fact that they weren't dead was mildly comforting, but Katarina was still wary.

Garen had his tranquilizer in his hand within a second, and Katarina had to admit that she was impressed with the speed of the movement and his reaction time. He'd drawn the gun with an eased, practiced, and steady hand. Almost professional, she thought. His father must have taught him.

He nodded, and Katarina moved to a small cupboard, and she opened it and retrieved a loaded gun from inside. She cocked it and raised it, ignoring Garen's wide eyes. She nodded in the direction of the hallway that led to the bedroom area, indicating that the pair would head that way. Garen nodded in understanding, and. Kat led the way down the hallway.

At the entry to the bedroom, the pair was quiet, and they listened for any noises coming from the other side of the door. Hearing none, Katarina braced herself and saw Garen doing the same. She counted down from three by holding up her fingers, lowering them slowly. Garen's eyes narrowed as she reached one.

When she closed her hand into a fist—zero—she put her hand on the door handle and swung the door open.

Only to find herself facing the barrels of three guns. While Katarina was an assassin, and prided herself on her ability to quickly eliminate targets, she had one hand on the door and the other holding a pistol in a position where she could only shoot two of them before she herself was shot. If she had her left hand free, she could have drawn one of the many knives she had hidden on her person, and it would be a simple matter to take out all three men. But as it was now, the movement would draw too much attention, and she would be shot dead before she could even wrap her fingers around her dagger.

The man in the center spoke, his voice low and raspy. Dangerous. "Gun down, hands up," he told her, and she tightened her grip on the pistol for just a second before slowly lowering it to the ground. She returned to an upright position just as slowly, her eyes moving around the room, assessing. The three men were the only ones occupying the room. The bed itself had been ridden of its sheets, and the drawers in the cabinets and night stands had been removed, the contents upturned. The dresser had been knocked over, and the mirror that had sat upon it had fallen, cracked, the glass shards scattered across the dark green carpet like stars across the sky. The paintings that had once lined the walls had been thrown carelessly to the ground. The one of her mother and father at their wedding had hidden a safe in the wall, and the contents of the safe were perhaps the only thing in the room which had gone untouched. The safe was still locked.

Katarina raised her arms slowly in surrender, as the men had told her to do. She hoped Garen had the sense to run. He had been a football star—surely he could outrun these men if they gave chase. She shouldn't have just barged in; she should have waited for a more opportune moment, or she should has just given up this safe house, and accepted the fact that any information here might have been compromised.

But here she was, staring down three guns without a blade in her hands. If she had just drawn one of her daggers, she could have had these men dead within a second. But she'd opted for the gun instead, the option more for show in front of Garen than anything else.

She'd screwed up. So now, all she could do was wait and let things play out. If the opportunity presented itself, she could take them out—if they turned their backs on her, or if she had even one moment alone. The chances of that happening were small, but Katarina refused to consider the alternative.

"You're Katarina DuCouteau?" the man with the raspy voice asked. Kat nodded. "Step inside the room."

She obeyed and took one step forward, bringing her out of the hallway and into the bedroom. Kat decided it was time to speak up.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked the men.

"That's not important," the man with the raspy voice said. He wore a dark mask, and she couldn't see past it, but she could hear the dismissal in his tone—as if she wasn't even worth considering, as if she weren't one of the deadliest people alive. "Do you know the combination to the safe?" he asked, gesturing to the wall safe.

So they knew what was inside, then. Or they knew there was something important in it. That was bad. Very bad. Inside the safe were personal DuCouteau records, handwritten by each head of the house, that detailed every DuCouteau and their notable exploits and achievements. It was tradition for every head of the household to record the family members' successes, and in this way both remember and honor the strength and power of the family name.

If anyone outside of the family were to get their hands on it, it would spell disaster. The crime family's entire involvement in Noxus could be revealed, as well as her immediate family's roles in the gang. And if these people were from The Black Rose... Katarina knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would spell the end for her, her siblings, and her father.

Of course, if she said she didn't know the combination to the safe, they would kill her immediately. "What safe?" she asked, stalling for time, her eyes always moving, watching every minute movement the men made. The way one man's fingers shifted as he adjusted his grip on his pistol; the way the man in the center frowned, the shift in expression visible through his ski mask; the way the one on the right shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"Don't play dumb. You're wasting your time and ours," the man said. He walked towards her, behind her, and shoved her towards the safe. She had the grace not to stumble, as she'd been expecting the move. "Open it," he demanded, his voice rough.

She felt the tip of his gun prod her in the small of her back, and so she moved, walking as slowly as she could towards the safe, trying to delay for as long as possible in the vain hope that an opportunity for her to retaliate might present itself. The other two men followed her, their guns trained on her with every step she took. She would never get the chance to attack; these men were clearly trained, and they weren't making any mistakes. If there were ever going to be an opening, it would be small, something they wouldn't see as a mistake, but which she could take full advantage of; the chance of it happening was slim, but Kat was never one to be deterred by the odds.

She noticed an opportunity just as she finally stopped in front of the safe. The man behind her moved, the gun facing away from her for just a moment—and she only had moments, miliseconds, to act, and Katarina prepared to draw her blades, throw them at the two men flanking her, and then attack the man behind her.

Three muted shots rang out, and Katarina flinched at the unexpected sound. The man behind her stumbled forward, and Katarina stepped out of the way as he fell to the ground, a dart sticking out from the back of his thigh. The other two men had met similar fates. She looked to the doorway and beheld a stern-faced Garen, who lowered the tranquilizer gun; he didn't holster it, though. He strode forward and knelt beside the unconscious men, checking their vital signs. Katarina knew without him needing to confirm it—they were unconscious. She'd been on the receiving end of one of those darts before; she knew how effective they were, how quickly they acted. Only after he'd nodded to himself and stood once more did he holster the gun.

Katarina couldn't help it—she let out a breathy laugh, a mix between relief and disbelief. "Garen," she managed between laughs, "what the fuck."

He frowned. "Who are these men, Katarina?" he asked.

Her laughter died abruptly, and she sobered quickly. "I don't know," she admitted. "You heard them—they didn't tell me."

Garen sighed. "Kat, we're going to have to call the police."

Katarina narrowed her eyes. Then, she turned and marched to the safe, inputting the code to unlock it, and checking to make sure the thick tome was still inside. She let out a sigh of relief to see that it was, then took it out, stuck it into her backpack (which was a difficult task, considering it was full of security tapes), and closed the safe once again, locking it securely. She turned around to face Garen and considered her options.

Quite frankly, this was way more than she'd expected when she had volunteered to check out the safe houses. She'd run into so many people—potentially from the group that captured her father—she'd killed three men, and now this… She couldn't really stop Garen from calling the police without him getting suspicious, but she couldn't have the police snooping around too much and finding things they shouldn't.

She twirled one end of her hair, biting her lip, and then sighed. "Give me a few minutes before you call them," she told Garen, who hesitated before nodding. She pulled out her cell phone and called her sister. Cass would know what to do.


"You did what?" Cassiopeia nearly screeched, and Lux shared a look of surprise with Talon. Cassiopeia's eyes had grown wide, and her nostrils flared as she listened to her sister on the other line. Cassiopeia began to rub her temples, and Lux could only surmise that their siblings had gotten themselves into some trouble.

She wasn't really surprised. Garen had a habit of being stubborn to a fault, and a knack for getting himself into trouble, a combination that had gotten him nearly killed on several occasions. And Katarina... well, this was a girl who made a habit of breaking as many rules as she could, just to see if she could get away with it. And if the rumors about the DuCouteau family were true... Well, a Demacian and a Noxian would definitely end up getting into trouble, wouldn't they?

"All right, but the... valuables," Cassiopeia said, glancing towards Lux briefly, "are secure, right?"

Lux knew when people were talking about things they didn't want her to know about. Unfortunately for the DuCouteaus, Lux had come here with the intent of finding out a few things they were trying to hide. Cassiopeia wasn't guarding the secrets Lux was after—nothing could stop Lux from taking those.

"Hey, what's the wi-fi password?" she asked Talon, as if she hadn't already hacked into their network (and surprisingly well-protected state-of-the-art security system) in the time she'd already been here.

Talon stood from the armchair. "I'll check," he grunted in that deliciously low voice, and he walked quietly down the hallway into one of the other rooms. She watched him, appreciating the view as he walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Lux checked to make sure Cassiopeia was too distracted talking to her sister to notice what Lux was up to. She was, and so, with a little bit of finagling, Lux decided to download all the files she could remotely access from the DuCouteau computers. Their security was good. Really good. But Lux was better. The files were almost all copied, and Lux decided to open one of them, out of curiosity. It looked like a normal bank statement… But why would that be saved to the computer in a safe house, she wondered.

"Got the password," Talon said from behind her, and Lux jumped and slammed the lid of her laptop closed. She hadn't heard him return at all, much less sneak up behind her.

"I-I didn't hear you," Lux said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and letting out a nervous laugh.

He smirked at her obvious distress about being surprised. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't think you'd be so... invested in whatever you were writing."

"E-English essay," she stammered out, hoping he'd believe the excuse. "It's really important."

Talon's smirk didn't diminish in any way as he held out a small piece of paper, upon which was scrawled the wi-fi password. Lux took it with a murmured thanks, and made a show of connecting to the wi-fi. In the meantime, she listened to Cassiopeia's increasingly frustrated voice.

"The cops? Great, Kat, just great—I don't care, you should have called me before."

Cops? Now, that was interesting. It wasn't every day that the cops got involved with the DuCouteaus. And by the sound of it, Cassiopeia didn't sound happy about it at all.

When Garen had told her he was going to help Katarina move some stuff, Lux was only too happy to tag along. She'd been talking to Talon a little bit already, hoping for the teenager to drop any information about whether the DuCouteaus really were Noxians. This gave her more opportunity to find out.

There was, of course, the added bonus that Talon was extremely good looking in that tall, dark and handsome kind of way, with his hair falling into his eyes and his unfairly attractive smirk. The fact that she'd been flirting with him to see if he'd drop info... she'd be lying if she told herself she was only doing it to get him to talk.

At the moment, Talon seemed only mildly interested in the phone conversation. Stretched out on the couch, he seemed content to lay back and watch things unfold.

"Slow down, slow down," Cassiopeia hissed. "He shot them? Does he have a permit?"

Ah. So Garen must have used his tranq. Her brother had always been a little... trigger-heavy.

"Well, ask him," Casiopeia said, and Lux had to contain a snort of laughter.

"What happened?" she asked Cass, who rolled her eyes and offered a huff.

"They ran into some... Burglars," she said.

"And Garen shot them. Ooookay," Lux said, refraining from rolling her eyes in a similar manner. "So they're calling the cops, right ?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "Yes, as they should. But... Well, your father is the police chief, right? Couldn't you... convince him to just pick up the burglars, and not conduct any further investigations?"

Lux grinned. So they were hiding things they didn't want the police to find. That was good information to know. "Just tell them that. They'll conduct an investigation, of course, but if the burglars didn't actually steal anything, they just get breaking and entering." The process was more involved, of course, but that was essentially it. Lux wasn't about to teach suspected Noxians the complexities of law enforcement, or criminal law. Frankly, she was surprised they didn't have an in-depth knowledge of police protocol already. Lux had assumed that any crime family would make it their business to be aware of such things. Maybe they weren't a crime family. It was too early to tell at this stage in the game.

Lux listened as Cassiopeia relayed this information to her sister. Then she said something Lux hadn't expected to hear. "Check for poison."

Lux now had confirmation that her suspicions were correct: this was no ordinary burglary. Poison? Perhaps the men were assassins or spies. Were they trying to kill one of the DuCouteau siblings? Was that why they were holed up in what was essentially a safe house, and were using her brother's truck instead of their own vehicles? Were assassins after the DuCouteaus?

If that were the case, sending Katarina to the other safe houses was a dumb move. Not only were they compromising their current location—they were also compromising the locations of the other safe houses. If the other locations had already been compromised, who was to say that this one hadn't been?

The DuCouteaus were playing a dangerous game, and they were playing it poorly. It could get them killed. They were only teenagers, so mistakes were to be expected; but that train of thought led Lux to realize something. Where was Marcus DuCouteau, their father, through all of this? He ought to be guiding them through this process, preventing these basic errors. He was a highly intelligent man; and if the rumors were true, a highly skilled strategist and assassin—more than capable of handling this situation.

But he wasn't here. So, either he was out somewhere else, doing something more important than keeping his children safe... Or he was MIA.

Or this was all some elaborate scheme to confuse the Crownguards, which certainly wasn't impossible, but which was highly improbable. Lux wondered what sort of incident might be holding up their father during such a critical time as this.

Still, Lux didn't want Talon to have to deal with the consequences should this location be compromised. Furthermore, she was in this place, and Lux valued her safety. Lux opened her laptop once more, careful to angle it away from Talon and Cassiopeia, and began to wipe all traces of this safehouse from every possible place. It would take a fair but of time, but it was nothing Lux hadn't done before.

She also did a quick scan of the security system's logs, just to confirm whether somebody had broken in. There had been somebody here earlier in the day, but they had had access. Another party had arrived, then left—also with access. Around midday, however, there had been a slight blip in the system... Almost as if...

Lux quirked an eyebrow and did a bit more digging, then nodded to herself. Bingo. The security system had been hacked to provide access to a mysterious person or persons, who had entered the house, stayed for about fifteen minutes, and then left. They'd tried to wipe all traces from the system, but Lux knew a few tricks. So, this location had been compromised. Great. She'd just wasted her time getting the place off the map—it had already been discovered.

Given that information, this location was no longer safe—it never had been. Time to let the others know.

"If I were you," Lux said, interrupting Cassiopeia mid-sentence. "I would call the cops. Make sure none of the other places were burgled. Including this house. Just as a precaution." She offered a sympathetic smile, layering it with a sickening sweetness that she knew made her look innocent. "Maybe they were tailing you for a few days, and they saw you come here or to the other houses. Maybe they knew you schedules and tried to steal when you were gone. Burglars are known to do that."

Read between the lines, Lux mentally pleaded, and she wasn't disappointed as Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed, and she gave Lux a suspicious look before returning to her phone.

"Katarina, we have to burn it," she said. "We need to burn it all. Just... trust me. And don't come back to this safe house."

Yep, they were definitely transporting info they didn't want to go public. Most of it was probably not digitized, either, so there would be no way of finding out what it was once it had been turned into ashes. Oh, well. Lux was more concerned about this house being a dangerous place to be in.

Luckily, Cassiopeia seemed to have come to that conclusion. "We can't stay here," she said to Talon. "They've been to all the locations."

"What?" Talon said, eyes narrowing as he ceased lounging and leaned forward on his seat. "You mean they were—"

"Yes," Cassiopeia said gravely before returning to her phone.

"Then where will we stay?" Talon asked his sister, his fists curling. "Why did we stay here in the first place?"

An idea struck her, and Lux had to refrain from smirking.

"You guys are welcome to stay with us, if that would make you feel safer," Lux offered. Cass and Talon turned to her, eyes wide. "My dad is the police chief, you know. Doesn't get much safer than that."

Talon snorted. "I don't think—" he began, but Cassiopeia interrupted him.

"How long would we be able to stay?" she asked, and Talon's jaw dropped in an incredibly attractive manner. How in the world did he manage to pull that off? Usually the stupified look was incredibly off-putting, Lux found herself thinking distractedly.

"However long you need," Lux said, offering a false smile that she knew looked genuine. "We don't have friends over too often, and I think Garen needs to socialize more. Besides, there's plenty of room in our house for guests."

"Your parents won't mind?" Cassiopeia asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Lux could hear Katarina on the other line speaking, but couldn't make out the words. She was probably confused, but Lux honestly didn't care.

Of course her parents would mind. "They won't!" Lux lied cheerily. "Even if they do, I'll talk to them!" Oh, yes. She would talk to them, all right.

Cassiopeia hummed before nodding. "We'll take you up in that offer." She beamed, and Lux suddenly wondered if she wasn't the only one able to fake a smile on the turn of a dime. "Thank you so much, Lux!" Cassiopeia wrapped Lux in a brief hug (which Lux did not appreciate but which she pretended to) before explaining the offer to her sister over the phone.

Lux contained a set of giggles when she heard Garen's confused voice after Katarina told him what Lux had said. She retrieved her own phone and began composing a text to send to her father. This day was turning out to be way more exciting than she'd anticipated, Lux thought with relish as she sent the message.


A/N: This is the longest chapter by far; the others shouldn't be as long as this. There's a lot of setup going on here, and I know there are some boring parts, but hopefully the action and mystery surrounding everything makes up for it. So they'll be staying with the Crownguards, now. Lots of possibilities there ;)

I'm moving back to the dorms in a week. Thank god. I'll have decent internet and will finally be able to play normals again ;-; I've only been playing arams at home since I get hella ping spikes. Anyway, there's only like... 30 more pages of this that I've written so far. As I've said, I won't be able to update consistently once school starts, since I'll be focusing on my last year of college. But don't worry! This is my favorite story that I've written so far, so I'm definitely going to keep updating, even if it takes a while.