Chapter 33 - St Mungo's Hospital
Logan drained his glass, grimacing as the liquid burned his throat on the way down. He was bored, angry and frustrated. And it was all Greengrass's fault. He'd exposed Logan, who had been wrongfully blamed for the fiasco that was the attack in Stonehaven Harbor.
Now, all they trusted him to do was "assisting" Greengrass's mission. That word left him with a sour taste in his mouth. Someone like him, having done what he'd done, was now reduced to babysitting that boy.
He looked out the dirty window of the bar. But they would see. When he had the proof that Ezra was lying to all of them, he would get his long awaited revenge; and he'd be praised above the others.
An owl stormed into the bar, stopping at Logan's table. Logan's fingers brushed lazily against the wand resting on the table as he laid his eyes on the annoying little animal. He took his hand away from the wand and took the message, sure he'd feel like killing the stupid owl after he read what else he would have to do "for Greengrass".
His eyes widened slightly as he read the contents of the message, then narrowed as he crunched the piece of parchment in his hands. Oh, this was much more interesting.
He looked at his watch, trying to decide how to use this to his advantage. Then, he smiled. It was a Hogsmeade visit weekend, right? So, Ezra should be too busy at the shop to have known anything yet.
Logan took his wand and walked out of the bar, only looking to the side when the barman motioned to stop him from leaving without paying. The wizard immediately retreated.
Good, someone still knew their place. It was time to teach Greengrass a lesson too.
A few moments later, Logan had Apparated in Hogsmeade and was now making his way up the busy street to the small, dark looking shop where Ezra now worked.
It was barely noon and Ezra was already beginning to question whether or not he really, truly wanted children. He decided that he did, of course; just not, if at all possible, children like these.
He had opened a small trinket and potion shop in Hogsmeade Village, just a few shops down from the Hog's Head where his "superiors" had thought it would be less conspicuous. It needed to be less conspicuous because it was a front for money laundering and business dealings for very dangerous, very demanding Death Eaters. Mostly, though, his job was to part stupid, soft-minded teenagers from their galleons. It was tiresome. He was, against his better judgment, incredible at it.
"Six galleons and a sickle, darling," he informed a pale, long-haired witch in her Hogwarts cloak who was eyeing him with altogether too much interest. He forced himself to smirk warmly. "Now, remember what we discussed. No more than two tablespoons in his juice – any more than that, and you won't want to bear witness to the fallout, believe me."
He finished wrapping the girl's purchase in thick brown paper and slid it toward her over the counter. Even through the nondescript covering, it made the telltale sound of heavy glass on wood.
She had just begun to scurry away when the bell over the door chimed again. He looked up and, with a brief sweep of his white-streaked bangs to one side, forced another smile.
It faded instantly; his mouth froze hesitantly between speech and silence, because he could not immediately discern that sort of mood the other boy was in, or how far he dared to push him.
"Logan," he said, after a moment. "Our next appointment isn't for two days."
Logan didn't bother stepping aside, so the girl had no other option then to walk around him to leave the shop, while Logan looked over at Ezra with poorly disguised satisfaction. "Are a few teenagers too much of a workout for you, Greengrass? You seem…" He gave the younger boy and thorough glance, "worn out."
He took a few steps into the shop. Ezra didn't look anxious or in a hurry. That could only mean he didn't know anything yet. Good, that was really, really good. If he managed to keep him distracted for a few hours, maybe…
"Ah, yes, but something has come up. We need-" The door opened again, letting in the fresh summer breeze followed by a couple of giggling teenager girls.
Logan smirked. "Why don't I wait for you in the back, you can join me when you're done." He only hoped Greengrass didn't keep that notebook with him.
Without waiting for Ezra to reply, he made his way around the counter and disappeared behind a door on the corner. He waited a moment to make sure Ezra wouldn't follow him immediately.
He looked around the small space. When he heard voices on the other said of the door, he raised his wand and murmured, "Accio notebook!"
The pillow on the single bed fell to the floor as the notebook flew into Logan's hands. He hovered the pillow back into its position before flipping through the pages of the notebook.
It's time. We've gone to St. Mungo's.
Logan's smirk widened, his mood improving considerably. Greengrass hadn't seen this yet, he was sure. He wondered briefly who was 'we', but before he could erase the message, the shop door opened and closed again. He slipped the notebook into his pocket and lazily settled on the one chair in the room.
Ezra met Logan's eyes, facing the well-aimed barb with a particular sort of sardonic resignation. He knew how he looked; he felt ten times worse. The other boy might well have informed him that the sun was hot, or the sky blue.
The stench of alcohol finally reached him, rolling through the stale air that had been parted by Logan's breath. Ezra smiled a small, self-satisfied smile; his gaze lingered for a moment before he was forced to turn his attention to his new customers instead.
"Ladies," he said cordially. "Good afternoon."
More giggling. From his peripheral vision, he watched Logan disappear into the back room and shut the door behind him. His stomach clenched, and he ignored it, because there was nothing else to do. The suspicion that the other man was up to no good was, in itself, fruitless; weren't Death Eaters always up to no good?
The young Hufflepuff witches, totally oblivious to his plight and completely obsessed with their inane school gossip, sidled out after several long minutes without buying a single thing.
Ezra huffed out a sharp exhale and, with a quick flick of his wand, locked the shop's thick, dark wooden door. He walked as quickly as he could manage to the back room and quietly but firmly opened the door, secretly hoping to catch Logan in some undeniable act of suspicious activity. Instead, he found the other boy sitting placidly on his reading chair, smiling that mad smile.
The door clicked shut.
"What's come up?" he asked darkly without bothering to make any sort of conversational segue. "You told me that things were running smoothly. I was under the impression that we had earned special approval in the wake of last month's profits."
"Ah, yes, we definitely did. And that got the attention of more important clients, it seems." Logan raised his empty hands. "I'd say we toast to that, but… I didn't want to offend you by snooping around uninvited," he said with mocking seriousness.
"Anyway, how's my sister?" He looked at Ezra questioningly. "You have been keeping in touch, haven't you? I'd hate to imagine her all alone in that big house of yours…"
Despite the slightly stuffy warmth of the small room, Ezra felt a chill roll down his spine and fought hard to conceal it. He took another quick look around the room; nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He set his jaw a little more firmly.
Logan was drunk, or perilously close to drunk, and it wasn't out of character for him to say perturbing things for the fun of it. That was all.
With an elegant flick of his wrist, Ezra's thin ebony wand appeared at his fingertips. He cast a silent spell that caused a corner cabinet to creak open and its contents – a single half-empty bottle of malt whisky – to float toward the surly pair. He pulled it from midair with one hand and conjured a small wooden chair, not unlike the one Logan was occupying, and two small scotch glasses.
He sat. The scotch poured itself.
"She's doing well," he said lowly, giving his brother-in-law a disdainful, heavy look that probably could have been measured in tons. "When I'm not off running your little errands, we talk extensively. To a pregnant woman, a large house is not so much a problem as it is a challenge. She's been systematically redecorating… or so I've been told."
A pause.
"To your health."
Logan met Ezra's look with a careless smile. "Ah, I see. I'll make sure to pay her a visit soon. She must be quite bored lately."
He took the glass and raised his glass. "And to my future nephew's… or niece's health."
He drained the glass, then put it down with a loud 'TOK!' "But, unfortunately, we have business we need to attend to."
He took a deep breath. It took a considerable amount of alcohol to affect his senses, but maybe he shouldn't have drained this last glass so quickly. No matter, though.
"A potential… associate, is arriving in England anytime now. He's come from France and he has a high position in the Ministry, there, as well as a lot of money. Therefore, we could use his cooperation." He leaned forward, closer to Ezra. "And who best to convince him to do just that, than the persuasive Ezra Greengrass, who also has a lot of money and… well, an important family."
Ezra, too, drained his small glass in one swallow. Instead of putting it down, however, he vanished it. As Logan began unraveling his slightly slurred spiel, Ezra fixed him with a calculating look. When Logan leaned forward, it took all of his willpower not to inch away.
"I see."
He had indeed been on several visits to France with his parents, although most of them were for beach holidays. The flattery was forced and paper-thin, as always. There was some other reason, some deeper, more sinister reason, that he had been selected to go. It was only by whom, and for what, that he had yet to discern.
"I appreciate your situation," he said levelly, searching the other boy's eyes. "It must be very important indeed if I'm to leave my position on the busiest shopping day until winter. If I close the shop now, I suspect we'll lose up to three-thousand galleons."
He paused again, somewhat wickedly.
"But that has been taken into account, I'm sure."
"Yes, it has," Logan replied. "Don't worry, if you succeed in this, it'll be worth far more than that amount." At least to me, Logan thought to himself.
He looked around, found a small piece of parchment, took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote down a name and an address. He pushed it towards Ezra. "He doesn't want to be seen in public having delicate meetings like these. You're to meet him tonight, at midnight, in this place."
He pondered that for a moment. That wouldn't send Ezra away soon enough, and he couldn't find out the notebook was missing just yet. He looked at his wrist watch, then back at Ezra. "You should go to Gringotts too. You see, he has a reputation of not being exactly trustworthy, of being a little impulsive… but I'm sure the right weight on his hand, as well as his men's, would be helpful, if you know what I mean."
Ezra hadn't expected such a quick dismissal of such a large sum of money; it occurred to him, in a flash of dismay, that Logan might be telling the truth. He was being vain – this wasn't about him. He was simply the errand boy; nothing more, nothing less. Even with all of his elaborate, spectacular fuck-ups, Logan somehow managed to remain a step above him.
It didn't matter, of course. He wasn't a Death Eater, or even a Death Eater sympathizer, at heart. What did he care if Logan rose through the ranks, all the quicker to get himself killed?
At the same time – and much to his own horror – he knew that he cared more than he wanted to admit. No, he wasn't a dark wizard, but they didn't know that. He had been cooped up in that infernal little stuffy room, tending someone else's business, letting the people he despised profit from him… and this was the recognition he got? More errands! He felt something in his long-stifled temper flare ominously.
He hadn't seen his wife in months… the realization washed over him anew. To get back to her safely, he would do anything. He would endure anything. His pride was of no consequence now.
"Of course," he said, softly. "I understand. I will… use discretion."
He took the paper and examined it carefully with a passive expression. Then, grudgingly, he stood.
"If that's all, I'll take my leave. Getting to Sheffield by midnight will take some time."
Logan waited long enough to make sure Ezra left without looking for the notebook. He could feel its warmth against his chest, a silent call for attention. He considered just erasing the message and leaving it there, but he couldn't risk Daniella sending another message anytime soon.
They left the small shop together, Logan Apparating out of there soon after Ezra did, taking the notebook with him.
Soon after, he was looking at the dirty, abandoned Muggle store that hid St. Mungo's Hospital. He looked around, making sure no one was watching, then stepped through glass and into the building.
He didn't waste time walking towards the Welcoming Witch sitting at her desk, smiling tiredly at the people in the line. He leaned against the desk, smiling warmly at the witch and ignoring the protests of the people he'd just passed.
The woman seemed slightly perturbed by his smile, but said, "Excuse me, sir, you'll have to wait in-"
"I'm here to see Daniella Hawke… Greengrass," Logan interrupted, speaking in a low, firm voice. He didn't know if she'd taken Greengrass's name or not, but she would be silly if she didn't use it there, to get VIP treatment. "She was admitted earlier; she was in labour."
"Oh…" The witch nodded, looking over at her notes, before meeting his eyes with a cautious look. "Yes, indeed. Are you the father?"
"No," Logan said after a short pause. "I'm her brother."
"Ah…" The woman seemed uncomfortable now. "You see, sir, I was requested not to let any other visits in her room, except for Mr. Greengrass, so…"
"Just tell me where she is," Logan insisted between clenched teeth, leaning forward, smiling sharply at the hint of fear in the witch's eyes. He very much enjoyed that look in a woman's eyes. But he needed the information she had, so he softened his smile and said in a hopefully pleading tone. "You see, she didn't mention me because she doesn't know I'm back in town. I just want to make her a surprise, that's all. And I have news about her husband."
The woman opened and closed her mouth, clearly hesitating. Logan could find out where she was the hard way, but he didn't want to cause a fuss in a public place if he could avoid it. The man behind him, whose skin was purple and scaling, resumed his protests, which helped the witch make her decision.
"Oh, alright," she said, offering him an unsure smile. "She was taken to an individual room in Third Floor. If you walk down the hallway, you'll see a sign saying 'Neonatal Unit' and…"
Logan didn't hear the rest of it, he spun on his heels and walked away.
=/=/=
"Are you sure it's fine to leave them?" Josiah hissed under his breath, adjusting a large lavender wizarding robe with quiet disdain. He had taken a few wispy white hairs from an elderly wizarding couple on holiday some months ago in preparation for his and Noah's disguise. From under his unfamiliar mop of excessively curled old woman hair, his tall, strapping boyfriend looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in brown tweed.
His urge to giggle was quelled by his increasing irritation at the stale-smelling robe he'd found in the very back corner of a dusty closet in the Greengrass mansion.
"And whose idea was it with these bleeding shoulder pads in the bleeding robes? You mark my words, N— er—dear," he continued in a markedly high-pitched, warbling voice as a suit-clad man rushed past them. "I declare that shoulder pads will be out of fashion in as little as a decade. Unsightly little devils…"
He plodded along sourly, trying to keep step with Noah on their way to the cafeteria.
Noah scratched his leg again. Those clothes made him feel itchy all over. Or maybe it was the unfamiliar sensation that the much older and less fit body produced in him. He wasn't ready to get old anytime soon, that was for sure.
"Hmm, I think we didn't have much of a choice," he said with amusement. Dan had gently, yet very firmly insisted that they went to eat something.
He looked sideways at Jo and his sudden rant. When they were alone again, he lowered his voice and offered Jo a bright grin. "I think Dan just wanted the chance to drool on Daphne by herself for a bit."
He opened the door for his boyfriend, who now looked like a very distinct grandmother.
=/=/=
Daniella adjusted the blanket around her daughter for the twentieth time. The Healer's assistant had come and gone, forcing her to drink a couple of potions in the meantime, but Daniella had barely looked away from her daughter.
She'd never thought it was possible to fall in love so instantly with such a small human being. For the first time, Daniella realized exactly how much her life had just changed. Little Daphne opened her dark, almost black eyes then, and a tiny hand peeked out from under the blanket. Ezra's eyes.
She felt the already familiar stab of longing once more, this time laced with concern. He hadn't arrived yet. Had he not seen the message? What if something had happened?
She'd convinced Jo and Noah to go to the tearoom and get something to eat while she fed Daphne, so when she heard the steps in the hallway an easy grin spread on her face as she whispered to her daughter, "Look, Daphne, daddy is coming."
The door opened and closed. Daniella raised her eyes… and her grin died, replaced by shock, followed by the purest form of dread she'd ever felt.
Ezra seemed to be going the opposite way of the rest of Wizarding London, which parted hurriedly around him as he made his way away from Gringotts and toward the Leaky Cauldron. It made him feel lonely.
A grim smirk blossomed, barely perceptible, on his thin, chapped lips. If he was so lonely now that he took even the evening foot traffic as a personal offense, he was truly in a bad way. The only thing to do was to do his job – both of his jobs – and get home to Daniella as quickly as possible. Perhaps by the time he was finished, it would be time for her to have the baby…. His expression softened involuntarily at this. When he'd first been assigned, he'd checked the notebook compulsively every hour, and sometimes more often, for news. She hadn't had the time to write him that often, of course, and once he had realized this, he'd made it a point to check only every few hours at most.
It hurt too badly otherwise.
Upon reaching the Leaky Cauldron, he took a sharp turn out of the bustling street and, somewhat hesitantly, brandished his wand at the less-crowded side road.
With a deafening crack that made him wince, a large, violently purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of him.
=/=/=
"Shall we buy something for Ezra?" Jo murmured worriedly, rustling around in his robe in search of the handful of galleons he had stored away. His hand chanced upon crackly, instead, and he pulled it out to examine it.
It was a clear-wrapped candy of indiscernible flavor; he made a face, flicked it into a nearby rubbish bin, and resumed his search.
"It's just that – you do suppose he's alright, don't you? I've been trying not to worry too awfully much, but you know how he gets. He does tend to brood. I'll just buy him a bit of sponge cake."
At Jo's question, Noah looked absent-mindedly at the glass counter, with a variety of cakes, tarts and savory food exposed. He could lie, but what for? Jo knew Ezra as well as he did.
"No, I don't think he's alright. He's out there alone, with people like Logan…" He looked at Jo and smiled warmly at him. He couldn't imagine being apart from Jo for as long as Ezra had been apart from Dan now without it breaking his heart. "But we'll take care of him. He should be here any moment now, right?"
=/=/=
"Hello, sister." Logan was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "How are you feeling?"
There was a moment of silence, before Daniella could react. Then, as she pulled her daughter closer to her protectively, she reached for the bedside table, searching for her wand.
Logan was quicker. With a flick of his own wand, he summoned hers and slipped it into his back pocket. "Now, now, Dany. I just want to see you and…" His eyes rested on the light pink blanket for a long moment, before he added, "meet my niece."
Daniella looked behind him, at the door, silently wishing Ezra would show up, or Noah, or someone… "What are you doing here, Logan?" Where is Ezra, she wanted to ask.
Logan crossed the room, approaching the bed, his wand hand still hanging loosely on his side. Probably noticing the sudden tension in Daniella's body, the baby stirred.
Her brother raised a hand and slowly brushed a finger over Daphne's forehead in a possessive manner that chilled Daniella to the bone. She pulled her daughter away defensively, adjusting the blanket.
Logan's eyes darkened at her reaction. He looked around the empty room. "I'm surprised to find you alone here. How did you manage to get here?" When Daniella didn't answer, he added, "I offered to stay in Ezra's shop so he could come see you, but…" He shrugged helplessly. "I guess he had more important things to do."
Daniella closed her eyes. He just kept lying and lying, every time she saw him. "Just go away, Logan. There's nothing here for you."
Logan just smiled. Then, for Daniella's horror, he took the baby from her arms, taking a step back, away from her reach.
"Logan!" She called, her heart jumping to her throat. She tried to get up.
"Now, Dany, I'm sure you should be resting." Logan said teasingly, holding the newborn baby and studying her with a mix of curiosity and boredom. Daphne started crying after being so suddenly pulled out of her sleep. "She's not all that much to look at, is she?" He held the baby at arm's length. "And she's noisy too. Just like you were, Dany!"
Daniella's heart had stopped. Daphne opened her eyes and, finding herself in a different environment, stretched her little arms, raised her head and started crying much louder. The sound of her baby's cry of sheer fear would certainly destroy Daniella, and her eyes blurred as she pleaded with Logan, "Just give her to me, Logan. Please, don't do this."
Logan looked at his sister. "I think we need to take a walk, Dany. I don't like the idea of you staying here all alone."
Daniella stood, leaning heavily against the side of the bed, trying to will the sudden dizziness away. "I'll go with you, Logan, I'll go wherever you want. Just put her down on her crib first."
"No, Dany. The three of us are going. You don't look very steady right now, so I'll take the girl." He adjusted the baby on one arm, grimacing with annoyance as the cries hurt his ears, and offered his other hand for Daniella to grab.
Daniella looked at the hand, then back at the door, hoping against all hope someone would arrive. Then she took his hand, her eyes focusing on her daughter again, her mind now filled with the most intense fear she'd ever felt in her life. Not for herself, but for her daughter.
Josiah ate with one eye glued to the plain, round clock situated over the door to the tea room. The coffee cake he'd picked out for himself was a bit dry; he picked at it listlessly with his fork and tried to spread the frosting around a little more.
Every so often, though, he looked up at Noah and smiled a small, warm smile.
"It's nice, isn't it? Even with all of this," he motioned vaguely at his ugly robe. "Feels just like when Pea was born, really. Well, except that was a Muggle hospital, of course. And she came out bald. Did ye see all the hair on that baby?" he asked, grinning. "It's so like his I almost expected her to pop out with a couple of grey hairs there in the front, no lie."
He polished off the sub-par cake and crossed his silverware over the small, dainty plate.
"Anyway, do you reckon it's been enough time?" he asked, a little impatiently.
"Aren't you going to finish that?" Noah asked, watching Jo play with his food. He'd finished his own piece of cake by now.
Noah didn't have siblings, and he'd never even seen a baby that little before, now that he thought of it. He wasn't an emotional person in general, and he felt awkward in that kind of situation, so he'd stood in the back, letting Dan and Jo fuss at the baby, until Dan called him.
She'd made him hold the baby, which he'd done with much hesitation and extreme caution – what if he broke her?
A few moments later, he was staring at Daphne with what Dan called a foolish smile. He'd quickly gathered himself, but he couldn't help the warm feeling that still filled his chest now.
"Yeah, but she's much more adorable than Greengrass," He said, smiling back at Jo. He followed his gaze at the clock. "Yes, let's go. Maybe Ezra is here already! That's a moment I don't want to miss," he added, in an attempt to lighten up their moods.
He took a bite of Jo's cake, even though it was a bit dry and stood with more agility than his apparent age would allow. He took Jo's feminine, wrinkled hand and they hurried out of the tea room.
Jo had spent so much time caring for Pearl as an infant that the situation, though strange, almost felt like he had been catapulted back in time. To say that he was naturally maternal was an understatement; he had the sort of demeanor that was reminiscent of a large and determined but friendly mother hen, and any excuse to add new chicks to his brood was one that he took happily.
It was precisely for this reason that he felt so uncomfortable leaving Dan and Daphne for any meaningful stretch of time. Not only was he concerned for the baby, whom he had loved instantly, but he was also worried for Dan. Dan was also his chick, albeit only in a theoretical manner of speaking.
He toddled down the hall with Noah in tow. Upon reaching the doorway, however, he stopped so abruptly that the other boy rammed into him; he did not notice, because his entire body had flushed so suddenly and so warmly with terror that he could not feel anything else.
Instinctively, he reached for his wand and let it lead him into the room like a beacon.
It was empty. The textured white blanket was in a tangled lump where Daniella had once been. Perhaps even more painfully, the crib was empty. There was no note; there was no anything.
He lowered his hand and looked to Noah helplessly, his wrinkled eyes wide with shock and horror. It was then that a nurse, followed closely by a magically-pulled water tray, came to the doorway and stopped.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Has she been discharged already?" the young woman asked them, confused. "Merlin's beard, I'm really losing it. It's these long shifts, you know. They never tell me anything."
Josiah stared at her hollowly, trying to will his mouth to move.
"Did you see anyone?" he asked in a soft, strangled whisper.
"No ma'am, not a soul," she replied dutifully, shaking her head. "Last I saw was you two going down to the cafeteria. Did she not tell you she'd be going?"
The nurse clicked her tongue and surveyed her cart.
"Well, anyway," she said, with a tone of finality, dragging the cart across the hall to another room. Jo whipped around to look at Noah, his panic condensing into something much more serious and still.
Noah's attention sharpened immediately when Jo stopped abruptly and pulled out his wand. He took his own wand as he regained balance and entered the room after Jo. "Where are they?" He asked uselessly, the warm feeling now replaced by something much more similar to hot anger.
He listened to the exchange in silence, since all he wanted to do was call out the woman for not paying attention to her patients.
"Do you think Ezra took her home?" He asked, although that was obviously not the case. They'd never leave without telling them.
The panic and fury in those unfamiliar old lady eyes made his own fury boil closer to the surface. He really wanted to see his boyfriend's face right now. It suddenly felt like he'd somehow lost everyone that was close to him in one go. He shook his head. It was Jo in front of him, even if it didn't look like him.
"Jo… What do we do?"
Josiah's heart was thumping so strongly against his ribcage that he was almost positive Noah would see him shake with the force. He tightened his grip on his wand, closed his eyes, and tried to produce a coherent thought.
"You go to Hogsmeade," he said softly, eyes still closed. A plan was forming behind them. "Go through the back door – find Ezra. I'll – I'll go back to the house and see if the elves know anything. If they're not there, I'll catch up with you. If you have to leave before I get there… leave me a note, will you?"
He opened his eyes, finally, and searched the wrinkled old face that might have been a stranger's if the eyes did not so obviously carry Noah's personality. He smiled a small, watery smile.
"I'll catch up with you," he repeated softly, brandishing his wand in preparation to Disapparate.
"And–" he murmured, a little hesitantly. "Noah, be careful. I don't know what's going on, but I know someone's up to no good. I love you."
He snuck a quick glance around and, satisfied that they weren't being watched, gave Noah a very hungry, very unladylike kiss on the mouth, with tongue.
Then, he disappeared with a loud crack and a few wisps of white smoke.
Noah wasn't very fond of that plan, but he realized the quickest way to find out what had happened – and to find Ezra, because he was sure Ezra would've dropped everything to get to St. Mungo when he saw the note – was doing what Jo was suggesting. At least he'd be going home. He should be safe there.
"Ok. You make sure you do that. Be careful too, Jo. I can't lose you too, right now." He might've said something else, if old-lady-Jo hadn't kissed him then.
In a different situation, maybe Noah would spend some time considering the awkwardness of being kissed like that by someone who looked old enough to be his grandmother, but right now, he only had time to feel slightly awkward at the thought that a kiss like that could feel so different, and yet so…
The loud crack snapped him back to reality. Frowning, he searched his pockets feverishly for any piece of parchment. If Ezra arrived before they could find him, how would he know what had happened?
Deciding there was no time to figure that out, he disappeared with another crack. By the time he arrived at the back door to Ezra's shop in Hogsmeade, Noah had returned to his own features, for which he was very grateful. He couldn't properly fight in that old man's body.
The night had fallen, so he wasn't surprised to find the shop closed, but when he peeked through the windows, he didn't find Ezra anywhere.
He did what Jo had said and went around to the back door. It was locked, but after a few attempts, he managed to break the lock Ezra had used. It made a considerable amount of noise, and still not even a light was turned on the inside.
He knew Ezra wasn't there even before he went inside.
"Lumos!" He murmured, looking around the small back room that had been Ezra's house for the last few months.
Nothing looked like it had been moved, even though he'd never been there before. Some of Ezra's personal objects were still around the room. More and more concerned by the second, Noah searched the entire building, hoping to find a clue as to what was going on.
=/=/=
Ezra emerged from the folding doors of the Knight Bus feeling more than a little ill for the experience. Being unaccustomed to any form of motorized or steam-powered transportation faster than the Hogwarts Express, he ducked into a nearby dark alley and was promptly sick beside a wide aluminum rubbish bin. He worried instantly, instinctively, what the passersby would think of him; of course, he reminded himself, he was in Sheffield, and nobody in Sheffield worth their salt roamed the streets any later than it took to get from work to home for dinner.
All things considered, the stupid Muggles would probably just think he was drunk. And indeed, Ezra would rather be drunk than in Sheffield.
After a few more moments of fruitless heaving – he hadn't eaten anything all day, anyway – he pulled out his wand and held its lit tip in front of his wristwatch. It read ten-thirty.
He pulled out the small scrap of parchment that Logan had given him next, lowering the light at the tip of his wand until he could only barely read it.
340, South Main Street, Sheffield.
Then, he set off at a brisk pace, letting the salty summer air brush his hair back haphazardly as he walked. He stopped at the end of Main Street, turned, and began looking at business numbers. 336… 338…
The sidewalk ended abruptly into an intersection, and he stared at it for a moment, puzzled. He looked across the street, where Elm Street apparently began. He looked at the parallel sidewalk, where all the businesses ended in odd numbers.
He looked down at the parchment once more and then crumpled it with such force and such anger that a shower of red sparks issued from his wand in response. Then, as though for comfort, he reached his hand into the knapsack he'd carried with him and searched with one hand in the dark for the small leather-bound notebook that he used to communicate with Daniella.
His fingers found nothing, and in his impatience, he aimed his wand at the bag instead.
"Accio Notebook!"
But nothing happened.
Confused and alarmed and enraged beyond belief, Ezra Disapparated instantly with a huge crack that echoed between the bricked buildings of the darkened street.
The poor family who lived in the small Sheffield apartment at the corner of Elm and Main jumped to a start, all at once, and looked around confusedly at each other for a moment or two before turning their attention back to the television…
=/=/=
Josiah cracked into Hogsmeade with renewed panic, fumbling for the back door of Ezra's shop, which was unlocked when he arrived.
He rushed into the main room of the small building just in time to hear a second crack that startled him almost to tears; a warm breeze ruffled his hair as the front door banged open noisily and Ezra stepped through it looking murderous, wand held aloft.
"They're not there," he told Noah in a strangled voice that was at least one octave higher than normal. He was holding both of his palms outward in a position of surrender. "We've looked everywhere in the house, and I've told Pokey to let me know if anything comes up, but—"
He looked helplessly from Noah to Ezra, the latter of whom lowered his wand. His black eyebrows were furrowed; his windswept, white-streaked hair and angry eyes made him look eccentric at best and, at worst, more than a little bit terrifying.
"Who's not where?" he demanded in a tone of voice so raggedly furious that this time, much to his own embarrassment, the dam that had been holding back Josiah's emotions finally broke loose. The chubbier of the three boys let out a strangled, muffled sob into his empty hands. If anything, this stoked the perilously glowing ashes of Ezra's temper. He rounded on Noah.
"WHO'S not WHERE?" he demanded again, much more loudly this time.
Noah barely had time to recover from his own startle at the two other boys' Apparations when Jo said the words he'd been fiercely hoping not to hear. At least not while Ezra looked about ready to murder someone.
At Ezra's question, he couldn't find the words to tell him what had happened. It pained him to even look at his friend. He wasn't taking care of himself, he looked years older than he was and he was so skinny Noah thought he could break him in two, if he tried.
Instead he slipped his arm around Jo, trying to comfort him. That didn't last long, though. At Ezra's insistent shout, Noah positioned himself in front of Josiah, his entire body tense and ready to fight. Because he could only imagine how his friend would react to such news.
He cared for Ezra, and he would do anything in his power to help him through this… starting by doing everything in his power to not let him hurt Josiah.
Eyeing Ezra's wand intently and wondering if a killing curse hurt, Noah finally looked up to meet the Slytherin boy's eyes and said, "Dan is missing, Ezra. As well as…" He swallowed hard before he managed to add, "as well as Daphne."
Ezra paused for a long, terrible moment. The words did not seem real. Noah and Josiah, standing solidly in front of him, did not seem real. The world might have very well melted away, or ended abruptly; perhaps he was dead.
No. He only wished that he was dead.
"Daphne," he repeated in a soft breath, suddenly unable to control any of his most basic processes. He stumbled backward a couple of steps and braced himself instinctively on a large, heavy wooden shelf that supported dozens of tiny potion vials, which rattled ominously. His breath began to come in quick, shallow rasps.
He could not wipe Logan's shit-eating drunken smile out of his mind. It simply would not leave.
The shower of sparks emanating from his wand would not cease; they only grew in intensity, swelling in parallel with his hatred and panic and fear. The stream grew to such an extent that the tip of his wand began to smoke; the undirected magic flashed brightly against the wooden floor and faded into nothing.
He didn't need to check to know what had happened – Logan had taken the notebook. He would never be without it otherwise. Logan had taken it, had tricked him, had distracted him and pushed him aside and taken the two things in the world most dear to him. The only two things for which he still lived. He had been slaving away for two organizations, sacrificing his time and his body, battling his loneliness and a host of other personal demons that tormented him without pause. He had done all of this for Daniella and their unborn child, who had entered the world and he had not seen it, had not even known…
He removed his hand from the shelf, which promptly burst into flames and then collapsed in a shower of sawdust. Every vial crashed to the floor and broke at once; their contents mixed over the freshly powdered wood and began to hiss.
Ezra looked at Noah, or perhaps through him, with glassy eyes.
"I," he began, far too softly. "am going to kill him. I'll kill him." He took a few steps forward so that his face was level with Noah's, although he did not, or perhaps could not, make eye contact.
Noah's heart ached with Ezra and for Ezra, but he couldn't afford to relax just yet. At this moment, he couldn't tell what Greengrass was going to do next; he had no idea what he could do to help him.
Logan. Of course it had to be Logan. That bloody son of a bitch, who claimed he loved his sister and yet kept making her life miserable.
Burying his own fury as best he could for the time being, Noah rested a hand on Jo's cheek for a moment, trying to silently let him know Noah would take care of them all somehow. Then, he took a step forward, directing Ezra's attention to him.
"Daphne," he repeated softly, trying to keep Ezra focused on the only two people that could possibly keep him grounded enough to get through that. He tried to smile, but all he managed was a lip quiver. "She's beautiful, Ezra. And we'll get her back."
Ezra had threatened to kill Logan before, but there was something about the quiet intensity in which he said those words now that sent a shiver down Noah's spine. He wasn't making an empty threat.
Noah had never thought of himself as a coward, but it took all the courage in him to meet Ezra's eyes without showing fear or hesitation, to touch him not knowing if he would receive that gesture with tears or more fury.
He rested a comforting hand on Ezra's shoulder. "We will get them back, mate," he repeated fiercely. "I promise."
Ezra reeled slightly with the touch; human contact, especially comforting human contact, was something foreign to him now. Still, it brought the room slowly back into focus. More importantly, it brought the situation back into focus….
His eyes fluttered shut for a few brief moments. His wand stopped spraying sparks onto the floor.
The only sound left was Josiah's poorly muffled sobbing, which he could not seem to control.
"Josiah."
"Ezra?" Jo phrased it like a thin, watery question. "I'm so sorry, I didn't—"
"Go home."
There was a small, sniffling pause, and Jo faltered for a moment between defiance and obedience.
"I need you at home," he elaborated flatly. His voice was distant, but firm. He opened his eyes and finally managed to look Noah in the eye.
"You don't have to come," he said softly, after a moment's pause. "If you don't want to."
Noah nodded in agreement at Ezra's request. "You should be there, Jo. I'm sure if she finds a moment to Apparate out of wherever they are, she'll go home."
He looked at Ezra, who looked more like a worn out ghost than an actual human being. They'd find a way to fix this. Those two had suffered enough at Logan's hands already.
"I'm going with you, Ezra," he said, firmly.
There was a moment of silence, while no one knew exactly what to do. When Noah thought Ezra had regained enough of his self-control to not do anything silly for now, he turned to Jo and put his arms around his boyfriend, needing the comfort.
"Go home, Jo," he repeated softly. "Send us a message with a Patronus if she gets back. If she doesn't… we'll find them." He kissed his boyfriend softly on the lips.
When he turned back to Ezra, he was as ready as he'd ever be for what was about to come. "What now, Greengrass? Do you have any idea where they are?"
Ezra loved Noah like a brother, but he was also in no mood to put up with blind loyalty. After Josiah had Disapparated – not, of course, before returning Noah's tender kiss – he reached for the other boy's wrist and clasped his thin, pale fingers around it.
"I mean it, Ledger," he said darkly. "Tonight… I'm not a good wizard. I'm going to…" Ezra clenched his teeth so hard in anger that it almost kept him from finishing his sentence. "I might do some things… you might not be able to look at me the same way. I won't blame you."
He released his grip on the other boy's wrist and pulled back.
"I have my suspicions," he murmured hollowly. "Finding him won't be the hard part. He'll be expecting me to piece things together. It's what he's done since…" emotion clogged his throat momentarily, and it took every bit of strength he had to swallow it again.
"I need to gather some things," he finished, after a long pause. He walked past Noah to get to the makeshift bedroom behind him and, hesitantly, closed the door.
Noah was surprised with the strength on Ezra's hand. He was silent after Ezra's words. That single thought crossed his mind again. It hadn't been a hollow threat. He wondered what would happen to anyone who tried to stand between Ezra and Logan, in the end. That startled him in a different way. Despite everything, it was Daniella's brother, and she suffered with him, because of him. What if she tried to get in the way? There was no telling how she would react to this situation.
They all knew – or at least wanted to believe – that Logan wouldn't harm Daniella, but who knew what he could do to Daphne? He remembered what it had felt like to hold that little precious baby in his arms and his fury bubbled up. She'd only been in this world for a few hours and that bastard…
He opened his mouth to speak and realized Ezra was gone. He heard the muffled sounds coming from the bedroom. Determined, he went to the door and gave it a quick knock before opening it.
"He took your wife and your daughter. How could 'I' blame you?" He asked simply. "You'll do whatever needs to be done. I get that, Greengrass. I won't stand in your way."
=/=/=
Daniella had cried, had screamed and argued, had pleaded. The baby's cries of fear would certainly drive her crazy if she couldn't hold her daughter right now. She couldn't breathe, she felt like the weight of the entire mansion was pressing down on her chest.
Logan had closed her in her old bedroom at the cabin and taken Daphne away from her sight. She could only hear the crying.
Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the door burst open and Logan came inside.
Daniella shot upward and tried to take her baby back. He allowed it that time, looking positively pissed off. "Make sure you shut up that annoying little brat, will you? Merlin's beard!"
Daniella held Daphne as close to her body as she could, stepping away from Logan as far as the room would allow her. Without realizing she'd done it, a bubble shield snapped around her and the baby immediately.
"You have ten minutes to shut her up." Logan said, before turning around and starting to leave. He stopped and turned back to Daniella, who was just about ready to try and Apparate out of there.
He smiled. "Oh, and before you have any ideas… you can't Apparate in or out of here now. And no need trying to run away, sis. In your current state, I doubt you could take more than ten steps before I caught up with you. Also, if you hear any loud noises, it's your dear husband coming to the rescue. Don't get startled." His lopsided grin gave him a deranged look.
"I hate you," Daniella murmured viciously, meeting his eyes. Realization dawned on her as she made sense of his last few words. "You called him here? What the hell do you want from us, Logan?"
For a brief second, Logan looked wounded, before that something much darker and dangerous filled his eyes. "I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want, Dany. But he…" He bared his teeth, hatred filling his eyes. "He took everything from me, he has everything that should've been mine!" He tilted his head to the side. "But don't worry Dany, I'll let you say your goodbyes if you want. And you won't be left with nothing." He eyed the baby. "You'll have all his money and that big house to live in. But he is mine."
Ezra heard the door open behind him and pivoted; he placed a small cobalt vial in Noah's hands.
"Everlasting Sun Potion," he informed the other boy vaguely. "But don't take it yet. You'll be needing it in the dark." There was only one vial, but Ezra didn't seem concerned about this. Instead, he caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror and bit back a scowl.
His eyes… did they look like Logan's eyes? Did he really look so deranged? In all his rage, he had neglected to realize… after all this time, he and Logan were only two sides of the same galleon.
"Let's go," he murmured, pushing the unwelcome thought aside. He grabbed for Noah's wrist again and, without ceremony, Apparated them both. They emerged at their destination; it was pitch black, but the sound of rushing water and the telltale texture of sand under his feet assured him that they had, indeed, arrived on the beach in the village of Formby.
"It's still a few kilometer's walk to the cottage," he whispered to Noah, shedding his bothersome and expensive overcoat. His white shirt nearly glowed in the moonlight. "Couldn't risk it any closer – he'd have heard us for certain. Ledger, listen to me."
He turned awkwardly on the thick sand and faced his friend. With mild effort, he put both of his palms on the other boy's broad, muscular shoulders.
"If anything happens to me – if I go mad from the pain, or if he finishes me off there – if anything happens to me, you've got to promise me you'll take care of… of Daniella. Of Daphne. Of everyone. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
Noah was about to ask what did that small vial do when, without warning, he felt the pull of a Side-along Apparition.
The smells of the ocean filled his nostrils as he regained his balance. The cottage?, he thought, confused. He refrained from making any comments, though. Ezra seemed to know what he was doing, and the last thing they needed right now was to waste time with stupid questions.
Ezra's hands on his shoulders forced him to look at his friend intently. He could've said a lot of things. He could've said it'd be fine, but Ezra didn't need that. So, he told 'himself' it'd be fine, and that when it was all over, he'd be able to take them all back home, or Jo would have his head served on a platter.
"Yeah…" he murmured. Then, louder, "Of course. I'll keep them safe. You can count on that."
They made their way out of the beach and into the woods that had once been their home in silence. Even that place Logan was somehow trying to steal from them.
When they were far enough into the woods that they needed to keep their hands ahead of them to avoid bumping into a tree, he whispered, "So, what's the plan now?"
After slogging through the forest in silence for some fifteen minutes, Ezra groped for Noah in the dark. He wasn't sure what he had grabbed – shoulder? back? – but he grabbed it nonetheless.
"He'll have put up enchantments," Ezra whispered. "I'll take care of that. Drink the potion now. Listen for a crow – three times. That's how you'll know it's safe."
Then, without any further explanation, his features began to shift. There was a slight creaking noise as his bones became smaller and far less dense. It had been uncomfortable the first few times, but now he hardly noticed the twinge; whether it was nerves or adrenaline or simple practice, he could not say. His arms, which had shrunk into wings and grown a thick covering of glossy black feathers, ruffled softly in the summer air as he unfolded them for a test flap. If it had not been so dark, a single white feather above the crow's right eye would have been prominently visible.
He clicked his beak twice and, with that, took off into the night. The only way to find out where the enchantments began was to trigger them, and he couldn't risk doing such a thing in his human form. It was too obvious and far, far too slow.
He gave his wings a few more vigorous beats, rising to a new height among the treetops so that he could properly look down. With the lights of the cottage as his guide, he sped through the night.
Noah raised his eyebrows and gave Ezra an unsure look. He was about to tell himself his friend still had his sanity intact when Ezra started to shift in front of him.
"What the…" He stared at the crow, stunned. "When did you learn to do that?!" But the crow-Ezra had taken off already.
He stood there for another minute, not sure what to do. Now that he was left alone, the magnitude of what had happened and the task ahead of them was starting to hit him. They'd done dangerous things before, but this… If something went wrong this time…
Shaking the doubts away, he looked at the potion. He hadn't had a chance to ask what it did, and he couldn't remember anything about it from school. Shrugging, he drank it in one go.
He huffed; it was so hot, burning all the way down to his stomach. About three seconds later, he froze, as if caught in headlights; he covered his eyes against the light and thought for a terrible moment that Logan had caught him. Then, he realized it was the potion.
When his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he realized he could see as clearly as day. "Fancy stuff, Greengrass," he murmured.
Since Ezra had asked him to wait, he left the faint trail, leaned against a tree, and waited.
=/=/=
Daniella sat on the bed she'd shared with Ezra for months, rocking her daughter, now sleeping peacefully. The bubble shield was still active around her.
She thought of the other times she'd done magic without her wand, without even being aware of it. Wasn't that the idea of going to school, to learn how to control your own magic? Was there something wrong with her? Not that she was complaining for the moment, since it had allowed her to keep her baby close to her and away from Logan's hands so far.
She looked out the window, into the darkness outside. She had no idea how to get out of this situation. Most of all, she wanted Ezra to be there, but at the same time, she didn't want him to find her. She wasn't even sure Logan would waste time talking this time, before killing him.
Suddenly there was a loud noise. Daniella nearly fell off the bed; Daphne woke up, letting out a small sob that was about to turn into crying.
Daniella rocked the baby as she eyed the bedroom door. She knew what that meant, and all she could think about was that Logan was going to come in there and-
The door burst open. Logan set his deranged gaze on them. "Give me the baby," he said quietly.
"No." Daniella shook her head. "Logan, please don't do this. You have me already, I'll go wherever you want."
"Dany," Logan warned, raising his wand and closing in on her. Daniella knew the shield wouldn't stand against whatever he threw at them.
She wanted to fight, she wanted to curse him and stop him, but all she managed was to stop the sob rising in her throat for a while longer.
"Don't make me hurt you," he said, reaching out and pulling the baby out of her arms again. When the tip of his wand lit up threateningly, Daniella had no other option than to let go.
He turned around and walked away, without as much as a second look at his sister, his wand blatantly pointed at the newborn.
The door closed after him and she heard the sound of a lock. He'd locked her in that room, alone.
Daniella wrapped her arms around herself and cried.
Ezra landed on a low branch, not ten feet from the lit window of the back room. He felt the enchantment trigger; it made his feathers prickle unpleasantly. He still couldn't see entirely into the room. He made a short hop to a lower branch, closing one black, taloned foot around the thin wood. It bowed under his weight and he rocked there for a moment, peering around with his ultra-crisp vision.
He saw Daniella first, although his attention was drawn immediately to the swaddled bundle she was cradling. The oddness of the moment was not lost on him: he hadn't planned for his first glimpse of his daughter to be through the eyes of a crow. Still…
She was beautiful. It was only when Logan's back blocked his view that the reality of his situation once again became clear. He'd felt the enchantment; he was in a hurry.
Anger did not have the same impact on him in animal form. His thoughts were much simpler and more straightforward. Perhaps it was a blessing; as it was, he was already one pissed off crow.
As soon as he saw Logan leave the room with his beloved child and Daniella slump over in tears (so beautiful, even then), he took his opportunity and swooped down from the branch. His talons clicked on the windowsill as he perched. With one last, cautious glance at the door Logan had disappeared through, Ezra set his mind to the task at hand.
He pulled back his shiny black head and, with impressive conviction, used his beak to tap on the glass multiple times in succession.
He waited.
Daniella raised her head abruptly, looking at the door, hoping against all hope Logan had changed his mind, or that Ezra was there, or…
Sweeping the tears off of her face, she noticed the taps weren't coming from the door, but from the window. There was a bird there. A crow, she noticed, sniffing the last of her tears away as the rest of her hopes died.
It was just a crow. Although it was a very stubborn one. Confused, she got out of bed and approached the window. The crow didn't leave, just stared at her. It was the purest black, except for one white feather above its eye. And those eyes. Something about them made her heart give an odd little skip.
Looking over her shoulder, she opened the window as quietly as she could.
Ezra was incredibly relieved when Daniella opened the window without further prompting. He had been afraid that it would take more coaxing, and he wasn't sure that he could take much more tapping on the window. What he had done had already made his beak sore.
Taking this as evidence that he had, without a shadow of a doubt, married the right woman, he issued three quick caws into the darkness and hopped over the threshold of the window. His tiny black feet clicked on the wood as he went. With tentative care, he placed one crow foot on her hand. Then, with a quick tilt of his shiny black head and a very quick beating of wings, he made his way onto the floor beside of her and began to morph back into human shape. The transition was quicker this time, and he looked around wildly for a few seconds before apparently remembering where he was and exactly what he had meant to be doing.
He met Daniella's eyes. They broke his heart and repaired it in the same instant – just the sight of her, real and in person and unharmed, was enough to bring tears to the rims of his eyes.
He scooped her up and held her tightly, silently; he wasn't sure how many seconds would pass before Logan came back to check on her, and time was of the utmost importance.
"Noah's outside," he whispered against her ear. "It's not safe here. Are you able to get out of the window?"
If the situation wasn't so terrible, Daniella might've been amused with the bird, jumping so confidently onto her hand and into the bedroom. Her exhausted brain barely registered that that was very odd behavior for a bird before the creature started to shift, revealing the one person she'd been desperate to see for past few hours.
Something caught in her throat and she wasn't able to say anything until Ezra put his arms around her. She clung to him, breathing in his scent. He looked so thin and tired and gorgeous. "You're here," was all she managed to say.
That was, until he told her to leave. Frowning, she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes and shook her head. "No. No, I won't leave you; I won't leave Daphne." Daphne. He hadn't seen her yet. "Ezra, he's got her…"
He had known she would protest, of course. She always did. It was one of the things he loved about her. Now, though… he could not bear for her to be trapped there any longer. He closed his eyes tightly against her words and brought his lips to her forehead.
"I know," he whispered, still barely audible. "I'm going to get her. I promise you, Daniella – I'm going to get Daphne back. But you're not safe here with me."
He opened his eyes; they unwillingly flicked to the closed door again.
"I need both of you on the outside. It's critically important."
He brushed her hair aside with a gentle hand and studied her beautiful, tear-stained face. Had her cheeks always been that rosy? No, surely not… what a stupid thing to think at a time like this, anyway.
"Please."
Daniella hated that he was right. She hated Logan right now, with an intensity only comparable to the intensity of her love for Ezra and Daphne.
"Ok." She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, convincing herself to walk away. "I'll go." She looked into his dark, piercing eyes. "Do what you need to do to come back to me," she whispered, kissing his lips lightly before pulling away.
It was the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she turned her back on her husband and climbed out the window slowly and quietly.
She hadn't taken more than three steps outside when a familiar bulky shape came out of the shadows, pulling her into a protective hug.
"Dan? Merlin's pants, are you ok?" Noah guided her into the trees nearby and looked over her frail looking body, deciding that she was relatively unharmed. Then he noticed what was missing. "Where's Daphne?" He whispered.
Daniella closed her eyes and lowered her head. "She's inside… they're both inside…"
Noah huffed out a breath. He helped her sit against a tree, kneeling beside her. "Alright, Dan. Don't worry, I'll go back and help them. Just… just promise me you'll stay here. Don't do anything silly, ok? I'll get them back." He had no idea how to keep that promise, though.
Daniella nodded vaguely, her eyes still fixed on the cottage. He supposed that was as good an answer as he'd get.
He walked back out of the shadows, listening carefully as he circled the house to the front door.
Ezra didn't watch her go; if anything, he was worried that the sight would make him even sicker with worry and heartache, and that wasn't something that he could afford at the moment. Instead, he focused his attention on the doorknob. He approached it cautiously with his wand held aloft. It was locked, but that was easily remedied.
He'd built this door, after all, and he could damn well un-build it.
With a silent and elegantly complex series of flicks, the door ground itself into a pile of beige dust. He stepped over it and through the now-empty doorway, fixing his glittering black eyes on the man who had tried to ruin his life.
"Sheffield didn't work out," he said, his voice chilling in its easy nonchalance. "But I daresay the fresh air did me some good. Put down my daughter, Logan. You'll be needing both hands for this."