Chapter Four
Garen stood as soon as Katarina left the office. Her eyes were heavy, and she was obviously tired. But when her gaze met his, her eyebrows drew together, and she scowled at him.
"How did it go?" he wanted to ask, but the glare she was sending his way made him think better of speaking. Instead, he waited for her to draw near.
"Thanks for getting me interrogated, Crownguard," Katarina said.
"What?" he asked, taken aback. "They weren't interrogating you—they were just trying to get information about who those burglars were." When the police had arrived on the scene, they had arrested the men—but not before Katarina had pulled poison out of their pockets. The police had seen it in her possession and had taken her in for questioning, as well, though Garen had assured them she had just relieved the men of it. Garen had asked one of the officers what they were going to do with Katarina, and the officer had assured him that they were just asking her about the burglars. Her boxes were still sitting in his truck.
"It sure seemed like an interrogation with the way they were shooting me questions," Kat grumbled. "If you hadn't called the damn cops—"
"Katarina, I had to—" Garen said, growing increasingly frustrated with Katarina's aversion to the police and her constantly bringing this subject up again. After hanging up with her sister, Katarina had railed at him for calling the cops and for insisting on being stubborn about it.
"No, you didn't!" Kat interrupted, and Garen had to refrain himself from interrupting her to finish his own thoughts. "You could have just fucking stayed outside like I had asked—"
"And you'd have been killed!" he said, unable to contain himself. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch, he hadn't gotten a full night's rest the night before, and he had walked up and down five flights of stairs multiple times carrying several heavy boxes. It was late, and he was tired—both physically and mentally. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself after his outburst. "Katarina, I'm sorry that this isn't what you wanted. I'm sorry about whatever is going on in your family, and I'm sorry that you had to deal with these men breaking into your home. But please don't take out your frustration on me. I was legally and morally obligated to call the police, and they will help you figure out who these men are and why they broke into your safe house."
He sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he realized that she was in the same boat as him. She probably hadn't eaten right, and he knew she certainly hadn't gotten enough sleep; she must be just as exhausted as him, if not more so. "I'm sorry that I've made this difficult for you," he said. "But I'll do my best to make it up to you in any way that I can."
Katarina opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it and looked away, glaring at the wall. She crossed her arms, and took several deep breaths before letting out a huff. "Fine," she mumbled, then brushed past him, walking towards the exit of the police station. "Let's go."
Garen watched her retreating form, the way her hair swayed from side to side, and then hurried to catch up. This girl made his blood boil, but there was still something about her that drew him to her, like a moth to a flame , despite himself.
He drove her to his house. Lux had called their father earlier, who had gone to the safe house to pick up Katarina's siblings. Garen wasn't sure how she'd managed that—he couldn't imagine their father willingly allowing the children of a suspected crime family under his roof. Which meant that Lux had either refrained from disclosing their guests' true identities, or she had somehow blackmailed their father into agreeing. Both equally possible options, and neither of which he wholly approved of. Or disapproved of.
At any rate, Father had allowed the DuCouteaus to stay at the house indefinitely—for as long as they needed, Lux had said. And while Garen was glad that they would have a safe place to live, he also recognized that he was going to be living in the same house as Katarina DuCouteau. The thought sent a tingle down his spine.
The evening drive was quiet, save for the radio. He'd turned on the rock station, and he hoped Katarina was enjoying the music (she did like rock, she'd said). Today, he'd caused her and her family quite a bit of stress. He wanted to make it up to her, somehow. A thought occurred to him as he was driving, and he decided to share it. "I might be able to find out whatever the police know about those men. I can ask my father about the investigation, and keep you posted on the details."
Katarina finally faced him, and her eyes were narrowed in thought. Her scar stood out against her features, striking, a line that hinted at a past Garen wished he could know. Her emerald eyes narrowed, and he could see the setting sun reflected in them, hidden in their depths, behind dark clouds. She spoke, in what was perhaps genuine confusion, and certainly suspicion.
"Why?" she asked.
"Why what?" he asked in returned. Why would he do this for her? Why he was going out of his way to help her? What his intentions were?
"Why do you care?"
Garen swallowed, taken aback by the question. Why did he care? He didn't know.
"It... it's the right thing to do," he told her, settling for the half-truth. He wasn't lying. He had frustrated and angered her earlier—this was his way of showing her that he could, and wanted, to do the opposite.
Katarina was silent as he pulled onto the street in front of his house. The gates surrounding the perimeter were covered with ivy, preventing anyone from looking beyond them; unlike the DuCouteaus, whose mansion was atop a hill on the north side of town alongside other old estates, the Crownguards lived on the East side, and lived on a street alongside other families also considered to be new money. The Crownguard mansion was small and simple, but there was an elegance to the simplicity of the structure. Grass grew around the estate, save for on the gravel driveway which led up to the house and circled around a fountain in the front. The fountain was plain, with no decorative carvings along the side of the basin (unlike the one at the DuCouteau mansion), and the water which spouted from the top did not rise higher than a foot. Rosebushes grew along the sides of the house, carefully tended to year-round by the family's gardeners.
There were few other decorations to be seen in the front of the mansion, besides trimmed bushes and a few oak trees. Around the back was a pool and a patio, and in the front, the gravel drive led to the right, where Garen turned and parked the truck in the garage.
He let out a sigh and turned to speak to Katarina. To say what, he wasn't sure—but she was already moving, scooping up the backpack at her feet and opening the door to step outside, so Garen followed suit. He locked the truck—which earned an eyeroll from his companion, and then he led Katarina inside the mansion.
"I'll show you to the guest rooms," Garen said, motioning for her to follow him, though he figured she probably would have done so anyway. He led her past the living room and the drawing room and to the staircase, where they took the stairs to the second floor. He then led her to the west wing, and to the end of a long hallway.
"These are the guest rooms," Garen said, gesturing to the doors around him. "I... Suppose you can choose whichever one you'd like, assuming your siblings haven't decided to occupy it."
Katarina nodded, then headed for the room at the very end of the hallway, closest to the window at the end. "Is it locked?" she asked, her hand reaching for the doorknob. He shook his head, and she turned the knob and stepped inside the room, flicking the light switch on. Inside was a queen-sized mattress, a bedside table, an armoire, a wardrobe, a floor-length mirror, two full bookshelves, and a small desk tucked into the back corner. There was a bathroom, and a walk-in-closet attached to the room.
Garen immediately noticed that the bed was unmade. "Let me grab you some sheets," he said quickly, turning to leave, "Go ahead and make yourself at home."
He left the room, closed the door behind him, and made his way down the hallway to a closet where they kept the sheets and comforters. He grabbed them and then returned to her room, and knocked. Katarina opened the door and he offered her the sheets, which she took. She seemed to regard him differently, though Garen couldn't place the emotion on her face.
"Thanks, Garen," she said after a few moments, and she moved to the bed and began putting the sheets on. His heart skipped a beat at the way she'd said his name, and he realized that she had been completely genuine in her thanks. She had left the door open, so he took it as an invitation to come inside, and when she made no protests, he moved to help her prepare the bed.
"You're welcome," he said as a thought occurred to him. "You know, that's the first time you've called me by my first name."
Katarina blinked rapidly, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before staring at the corner of the sheet she was putting on the bed, and suddenly seeming wholly absorbed by the task. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he thought he saw a tinge of pink begin to color her cheeks.
"That… wasn't the first time. But don't get used to it, Crownguard," she muttered, and he had to wonder—when had she said his name for the first time? He hadn't noticed, and he didn't know why that bothered him so much. She had seemed to be missing some of the usual bravado she spoke with. It was probably because she was tired—it was getting late. And, as if to further reinforce that idea, his stomach growled, and he blushed. She was probably hungry, too, but the smirk she gave him as they fitted the comforter onto the bed made him blush even fiercer.
Mercifully, she didn't comment on the noise his stomach had made, but rather stretched once they'd made the bed. "Got any food?" she asked, and he nodded, then took her downstairs to the kitchen.
He found a frozen pizza in the freezer and heated it up as Katarina acquainted herself with the first floor, wandering around. After a few minutes, Garen heard talking, and could only assume that Kararina had run into her siblings. Absently, he wondered where Lux was, but then the timer went off and Garen put on his oven mitts and took the pizza out. He sliced it and then set the table, including extra plates as an afterthought in case Lux, Talon or Cassiopeia wanted to join them.
He found Katarina in the drawing room, speaking in hushed tones with her brother and sister. He cleared his throat as he entered, and they went silent immediately.
"Umm... The pizza's ready," he told Kat. He nodded towards her siblings. "There's plenty of food, if you want some."
Talon stood immediately from the chair he'd been occupying and swept past Garen in the general direction of the kitchen. Cassiopeia rolled her and stood as well.
"Thank you for the offer, Garen," Cassiopeia said, "but I already ate earlier, so I think I'll just go to my room and get ready for bed. Lux made us some delicious food earlier. Talon ate, too, but I guess he's still hungry."
Garen had to chuckle at that. "Well, you know what they say about growing teenage boys," he said, and Katarina rolled her eyes.
"Cass, we should talk," Katarina told her sister, and Cassiopeia sighed.
"I know," she said, "but I think it best we wait till tomorrow. I fell asleep waiting for you to get back safely, and I…"
Katarina placed her arms around her sister in a gesture so tender, Garen felt as if he were intruding. What she whispered next to her sister he didn't hear, for he ducked out of the room to give them some privacy, and waited in the hallway for them to finish whatever it was they needed to discuss.
In a matter of seconds, the two sisters left the room, one heading upstairs to bed, and the other following Garen down the hall and into the kitchen. On the way, she elbowed him in the arm, and pointed to his hands, and he realized he was still wearing the oven mitts.
"Blue's your color," she said, smirking. Rather than be embarrassed, Garen grinned and decided to take it in stride
"Yes it is," he said proudly. "My sister got me a blue scarf for Christmas when we were younger. It's my favorite scarf. And you know what they say—your favorite color's the color that looks best on you."
Katarina snorted. "They say that, huh?"
He nodded vehemently, and she cracked a grin, and he thought that the hard lines on her face vanished when she smiled, and she seemed... younger. More innocent, as though she weren't carrying some heavy burden on her shoulders. Garen could relate.
When they'd settled, Garen served everyone a glass of water with their meal. They ate dinner in relative silence, only exchanging a few pleasantries and mostly focusing on eating their food. When they'd finished, Katarina moved to put away the dishes, but Garen shooed her away. Talon was more than happy to leave the dishes to Garen, and departed from the kitchen rather quickly, probably to return to his room.
"I've got it," Garen said as Katarina stubbornly ignored him and began collecting plates anyway.
"Let me do this," Katarina said as Garen tried to take the dishes from her; and it was in those words that Garen heard a sort of desperate sound. And he realized that Katarina was probably not one to just expect favors for nothing; this was probably her way of paying him back, in some way, for all he'd done for her today.
Garen sighed and nodded. "All right," he relented, "but we'll do the dishes together ."
"Fine," she replied, seemingly content with the arrangement, and the pair washed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
"Goodnight," he told her as she turned to leave the kitchen, and she looked over her shoulder at him, her hair cascading down her back. He offered a tentative smile and a small wave.
"Goodnight," she returned softly, and then left the kitchen and headed to her room.
Garen let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and ran a hand through his hair. Then his eyebrows drew together, and he stood tall. Yes, he was tired, but there were more important things than that right now.
He had some work to do.
"Why?" Lux asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and clenching her eyes shut as she spoke into her cell phone. It was midnight, nearing one in the morning, and the last thing she'd expected was a phone call from her brother to wake her up from her already restless sleep. It had taken her a good hour to get to sleep; it was hard for her to let her guard down knowing that the DuCouteau family were asleep down the hall, and that there were likely assassins after them. And by sheltering them, the Crownguards might become targets, too. Further souring her mood, her search of the documents she'd retrieved from the safe house had so far been fruitless, and she had only managed to make it through a measley fifteen percent of the files. She'd had a lot on her mind when she'd finally tried to catch some shut eye, and sleep had eluded her for quite some time. She'd finally managed to fall sleep, only to be woken by her brother. And he'd gone and done something stupid, too. Typical. She loved her brother, but he could be a pain in the ass sometimes.
"I want to know who those men are," her brother told her.
"So you decided that breaking into the police station and going to their cells to interrogate them was the best option?" she asked, unable to keep the exasperation from slipping into her words.
Garen was quiet for a moment. "I might not have thought it through entirely," he admitted, having the grace to sound sheepish about it, and she let out an exasperated sigh.
"No duh," she murmured. "Look, just... Don't so anything rash, okay? I'm on my way." A thought occurred to her, and she grew serious. "You're wearing your mask, right?" Even though their father was the police chief, there was no way he would be able to cover it up if one of the officers saw that Garen had snuck past the other officers into restricted areas and questioned prisoners. Furthermore, if Garen had tranquilized anyone—and this was Garen, her rather trigger-heavy brother—then it would raise questions about how he'd gotten ahold of a Demacian tranquilizer, about whether Garen was Demacian. And while it would be easy to play it off as a gift from their father, it wouldn't erase the fact that he'd tranquilized a police officer. He absolutely needed to be wearing his mask, or else the results could be disastrous for him and their family.
"Of course," he replied almost instantly, and Lux heaved a sigh if relief. "There are cameras—I don't want them to know who I am." She should have known. Her brother might be rash and headstrong, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what was at stake, and had taken the necessary precautions. She needed to trust him more.
Lux began gathering the usual tools she used on missions and threw them haphazardly into a bag—her rifle, pistol, tranquilizer, mask, laptop. "Just give me fifteen minutes," Lux said. "Gotta get my things and then get the car."
"All right," Garen said, and Lux hung up, pocketing her cell phone as she moved about the room. Her brother was being impulsive again. The last time he'd done that, he and Jarvan had nearly ended up dead. Lux wasn't entirely sure what had prompted this sort of behavior from her brother, but she had her suspicions.
Once she'd packed her things, she double checked that her room was locked, and that her computer was secure, and then she left through the window, climbing down the side of the house and landing easily on the soft grass. She jogged to the garage and made her way to the back, where there were some shelves holding tools and gardening materials. She lifted a particularly large lawnmower manual and revealed a button on the back of the shelf, and she pressed it. The shelf slid to the side, and there was a small entryway with stairs which led underground, and Lux took the stairs and the shelf slid back into place behind her. Automatic lights turned on overhead, illuminating the area as she descended.
The underground garage was where they kept all of the Demacian equipment that they owned, including a handful of vehicles, which were used for various purposes, from transporting goods to leading an assault on Noxian hideouts. Lux selected an unassuming black car and then drove to the exit, which led onto the park a few blocks away from the Crownguard residence. The park had ample vegetation and enough trees to hide a building the size of a large barn—perfect for hiding a secret exit; the exit rose parallel to the street. Lux made a neat turn onto it, and then she was off, speeding down the roads towards the police headquarters as she slid on her own mask.
Garen sighed. He'd managed to sneak past most of the police guarding the station—an easy task, since he knew their routes and patterns, and even a few of the officers, thanks to his father. He'd made his way to the cells, and then knocked out the armed officer acting as their guard with his tranquilizer, and then he tried to question the men.
"Who are you?" he'd asked, and received no reply. Each man was silent, as if they'd been trained to hold their tongue. He'd asked them why they were there, what they were looking for, if they knew who they had attacked, why they had gone after Katarina and her family.
None of Garen's questions had borne any fruit. Frustrated with the lack of results, Garen had stepped outside of the room, hoping some time to collect himself would aid in his quest for answers.
It was as he took his second deep breath that the power to the station went out, and since there were no windows in this particular hall, he was plunged into complete darkness. His mask immediately adjusted, switching on the night vision capabilities, and Garen pulled out his phone and called his sister, who answered on the first ring.
"I'm five minutes out—" she began, just as Garen asked," Did you cut the power?"
Lux answered quickly. "No, I'm not even there yet. Isn't there a backup generator?" There was—the station had its own backup generator in times of emergencies, and for when the power went out. "It should kick in within ten seconds—"
"It hasn't," he said, noting the time that the night vision had been active in the bottom corner if his visor. "It's been a minute, and it's not back on."
Lux was quiet, and then he heard the unmistakable sound of the engine revving as she increased her speed. "Be careful," she said, "might be an attack."
Garen nodded, and drew the baseball bat that had been clipped onto his belt, swinging it in his hand a bit before gripping it with both hands. "All right," he acknowledged. "When you get here, see if you can figure out what's wrong."
"Will do," Lux said. "I'll talk to you over the comms, okay?"
"All right."
Lux hung up, and Garen put his phone back into his pocket, looking around. He saw nothing, and so he decided to toggle on the heat signature setting, noting several bodies throughout the building. Those were the police, moving around and trying to get the power back on and running.
Garen toggled it off, and the visor returned to night vision. He glanced around the room—still nothing.
He had just decided that it must be some sort of fluke—something mechanical, probably—when he heard something. Footsteps—quiet, yes, but unmistakable—coming from the hallway, headed his way. He toggled the heat sensor again and looked in the direction if the sound, and saw nothing; but the footsteps were growing louder. He toggled it back to night vision and gripped the bat tighter, preparing for a fight. He heard Lux over the comms, but he ignored her, as the threat before him was more important. He would talk to her afterwards. Right now, he needed to focus. Besides, if he spoke now, the person would hear him, and he didn't want to give away his presence.
Finally, the footsteps stopped just outside the door, and the door handle turned and the door swung open.
A figure wearing some sort of black, tight-fitting suit appeared. It was unmistakably a woman given her form and figure, and she seemed slightly surprised to see Garen, ready with his baseball bat. She wore a mask similar to his own, and Garen saw her lips purse slightly before turning into a grin.
"Demacia, I take it?" she asked in a voice that sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel her eyes as they travelled over him, giving him a once-over, and the sensation was completely and wholly unsettling, as though this woman possessed an otherworldly power to read others. "A baseball bat, and broad shoulders... You're the Might of Demacia." It was a statement, not a question.
Garen didn't bother responding. This woman was clearly no cop, so she didn't belong here; she'd come to the prisoners, too, so there was no way that she was up to anything good. He charged, swinging his bat at her, but she sidestepped his swing and managed to get behind him faster than he thought was possible.
"So eager for a fight," she murmured, and Garen spun around, bat swinging, but he felt a sharp pain in his leg, followed by a muffled bang, and he realized that he'd been shot.
And it was only after that he saw a Demacian tranquilizer in her hand, which she discarded lazily to the floor, and Garen's eyes widened. He felt his jacket—only to realize that his tranquilizer was gone. She'd taken it from him in the instant that she had maneuvered behind him, and he hadn't noticed a thing. His vision began to blur at the edges, and he felt himself losing his balance—it was all he could do to keep himself upright.
She stepped towards him, and he stumbled away, earning a laugh from her as she continued to approach. He swung his bat in an arc, but she simply ducked and continued to move towards him. He tried to push her away as she reached for him, but he had grown weak due to the chemicals running through his system, and he couldn't move her away as her hands went on either side of his mask and ripped it from his face, and he was powerless to stop her. She made a surprised sound. "The police chief's son is the Might of Demacia? My, how interesting." She let out a laugh that made him shudder with its coldness.
He tried to swing his bat at her once more, but it had grown heavy in his hands, and he only managed to make it bump her weakly before it slipped through his fingers and clattered to the ground, rolling out of reach.
"Don't worry, I'll deal with you in a bit," she said with amusement as he felt his vision darken. She dropped the mask at his feet, and then she turned and walked to the prisoners' cells, and she drew a pistol.
"No," he managed as he fell to his knees and reached out, unable to stop her. In his ear, Lux was speaking to him through the comms, but he wasn't listening, couldn't make sense of the words she was saying. "No," he breathed as he heard a shot ring out, then another, and another. Then he fell forwards, dizzy and losing consciousness, and he thought he saw the woman leave the room and stand over him, the gun pointed towards him. He thought he heard her whisper something to him, something about a black rose, but he couldn't be sure, because everything was dark and swimming and dizzying and images blurred together and sounds grew incoherent, and then everything went dark.
"Shit," Lux cursed as she realized her comm was jammed, and she couldn't reach Garen. Oh, yes, this was definitely an attack. Lux had come prepared, but this was unlike anything she'd seen before. The signal blocking her was incredibly strong, and she'd have to get rid of it. She retrieved her laptop and began doing just that.
It took longer than usual on account of the strength of the defenses around the jammer, but Lux was able to disable it. She then turned her attentions to the systems blocking the power into the building, and she was surprised to find some sort of program blocking the power. She did some maneuvering and managed to get around it, only to hit another difficult program blocking her from shutting it off.
So she'd have to do this the hard way, then. Lux loved a challenge, but this was getting ridiculous. She spent the next few minutes hacking and getting rid of program after program, and by the time she was finally able to reroute the power to the station, Lux knew without a doubt that whoever had done this was her equal in terms of hacking ability. Well, she thought smugly as she managed to begin detouring power to the station, not quite her equal.
It would take a few more minutes for the power to come back on, but that was fine. Lux was more concerned about her brother. He'd been completely silent for the past ten minutes, and so Lux tried to reach him. The comms were working, but he wasn't responding. So either he was busy, or...
Lux wasn't going to take any chances. She toggled the option to see his life systems and was relieved to find that he was alive, though his adrenaline levels were high. She noticed increased heart rate. So he was fighting someone?
He'd been with the prisoners—the ones that had broken into the DuCouteau safehouse and held Katarina at gunpoint. So whoever had set up this attack, whoever this mysterious hacker was, they were after the prisoners. That could only mean one thing: they were going to kill the prisoners to ensure their secrecy. They weren't going to even allow for the possibility of the prisoners spilling any information on them.
Lux was going to go help her brother; he'd probably need it. She grabbed her rifle and pistol and took the keys out of the engine, then made a break for the station. She barreled through, bypassing the officers inside easily since she knew their patrol routes, and she made her way towards the prisoners.
She'd been keeping an eye on Garen's vitals, and she increased her pace when he seemed to be losing consciousness. "Are you okay?" she asked, and received no response. She rounded the corner and saw him lying on the ground, unmasked and only barely conscious, just as three shots rang out, and she froze, horrified, thinking that her brother had been shot, killed.
But no—the shots had come from the cells. And as Lux stood, realization dawning about what had happened, the intruder stepped out from the cells, a woman wearing a close-fitting suit outfitted with what seemed to be advanced technology.
The woman walked towards Garen and spoke quietly to him, though Lux was able to hear the words the woman whispered.
"You've poked your nose in where it doesn't belong," she said. "Let this be a lesson for Demacia. The Black Rose sends its regards." Then the woman lifted her pistol and pointed it at Lux's brother.
Lux had been moving before she even realized it. She'd readied her rifle, taking aim through the scope, and lined up the shot. The woman's head was dead-center, and Lux never missed.
But she must have made some sort of noise, because just as she pulled the trigger, the woman looked right at her, and she managed to roll out of the way just in time to avoid the shot that would have pierced through the center of her forehead and surely killed her. Lux cursed under her breath and drew her handgun; the rifle would be too slow and cumbersome for a close quarters fight.
The woman stood, and aimed her pistol at Lux, who had returned the favor.
"Another Demacian," the woman muttered.
"Are you the one who turned out the power?" Lux asked, hoping to stall for time. At her current position in the room, she was at a disadvantage. The woman could shoot her brother or her, and Lux could only protect herself.
The woman smirked. "Yes," she said, and Lux filed away the information that this woman was proud. It might come in handy later. "I did."
"Well, I took out your programs," Lux said. "You have one minute left before the power's back and the security cameras catch you and whatever vehicle you use to get away." It was a lie. She'd dismantled the programs and rerouted power back to the building, but it would still take at least another five minutes before the power came back on. But Lux was good at bluffing; she'd done it all her life.
The woman tensed, and Lux felt her own surge of pride at the reaction. So the woman hadn't expected her programs to be dismantled, and the fear of being caught was obviously distressful to her.
"You're the Lady of Luminosity," the woman stated, and despite herself, Lux was impressed by the almost instant deduction based off of the little information she'd provided.
"Guilty as charged," Lux said, and then she shot at the woman, who sidestepped the bullet and returned the favor with three rapid shots of her own. Lux threw herself to the side, positioning herself between the woman and Garen, and the bullets flew past her and embedded themselves into the wall behind her. But the woman had positioned herself closer to the door at the same time that Lux had moved closer to Garen.
"Who are you?" Lux asked as she trained her gun on the woman once more. The woman's gun was already pointed towards her.
The woman smirked. "We'll meet again. And next time, I won't underestimate you." Then, with movements so quick, Lux could barely follow them , the woman threw something to the ground, and Lux barely had time to close her eyes and turn around as the flashbang went off, casting blinding light into the room.
When she looked, the woman was gone. Lux let out a sigh of relief before turning and hurriedly replacing Garen's mask on his face. The officers would be here soon; the noise from the flashbang would draw their attention. She had some time due to the power being off; though her mask provided night vision, the officers would have to stumble their way through the dark to this area. Lux moved to her brother's side and, with great effort, managed to lift him slightly. She dragged Garen down the hallways and dumped him unceremoniously in the backseat of the car just as the power returned to the station. She drove away as quickly as she could, muscles aching from dragging her heavy brother, and she bit her lip. It hadn't escaped her that the woman hadn't answered her question.
Garen had nearly died today. Three men had. What the fuck was going on? Lux didn't know, but she knew where to start to find out the answers—with the DuCouteau children.
A/N: Shit went down, folks! Wonder who that woman could possibly be~
Anyway, i've just finished moving into the dorms, and school starts up for me next week. Sadly, that means this is the last chapter that will be out for a while. Sorry. Instead of writing this past week, I spent 5 hours watching all the cut scenes from Drakengard 3 because Kat's VA is the protagonist, and it was great to watch her curse up a storm. Absolutely fantastic, 10/10, would recommend purely for the cursing.
Good news, though: I can finally play normals again cuz the ping is consistent and it's at a lovely, lovely 33 ms with no lag at all ;w; im so happy
Guest: Hey, thanks so much for the review! I usually pm replies to reviews as thanks, but since you weren't logged in, this will have to do. Appreciate you taking the time to review!
