Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, referenced rape/non-con, and major character death.
Leila tensed to spring, but Legault holstered his weapon before she could, holding up a hand to forestall her.
"I see you just couldn't wait to meet up with me. I hope you have good news. Though I do have to wonder why you brought this lovely lady with you."
"She's in the Fang. Ephidel's been treating her like shit, so…I've sort of taken her under my wing. That's not important, though. I want you to tell me what the hell you did with Harken Griflet," Matthew said, staring him in the eye.
For a second, he doubted himself. Legault didn't look like he'd been doing much better than Leila; dark bags hung under his eyes, and his usually lustrous hair looked lank and greasy. He didn't look like a triumphant kidnapper living large. He looked like a ghoul.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I haven't any idea what happened to him," Legault said, a frown tugging at his thin lips.
"Cut the crap," Leila said. "Between that weapon of yours and the week-long disappearing act you've pulled, you've made quite the suspect out of yourself."
"And that memo in Harken's house—'meet with the Hurricane at 14:00?' Coincidentally right when he disappeared, don't you think? That, and you consorting with Isadora Watson and having the skill to disable Angel of Death…" Matthew insisted.
"My, but you have been busy this week! I honestly didn't think you'd figure it out. Come on in, then. There's someone you might be interested in meeting," Legault said.
They walked cautiously into his flat, Leila's eyes darting every which way and her hand on her gun. Matthew's breath caught as they stepped into the living room.
Harken sat in an armchair, his hands cuffed in his lap and the radio on. The faint static of Lycia's news station buzzed in the background. He glanced up at the sound of footfalls, eyes widening. He didn't look much like his newspaper photo. Harken seemed younger, almost, his jaw faintly shadowed with blond scruff and his uniform wrinkled.
"Detective Beckett!" he exclaimed.
"I've got you, sir," Leila replied, rushing over to him.
Legault turned and sighed.
"Matthew, did you really bring a cop in here?"
"Didn't you do the same?" he shot back.
"Point taken. I think the four of us should all sit down for a nice, long, talk. Harken, as I promised, you're free after this, so if you agree to be civil, I'll take those cuffs off you," he said, taking hold of his wrists.
"Of course."
"Matthew, Detective, take a seat on the couch, if you'd like. Harken, you're clearly already familiar with this fearsome dame, but I suppose I should introduce my companion here. Matthew's a cabbie and thief of sorts, and the mastermind behind this rescue. He can tell you all about it later, though. For now, I suppose I'll start."
Legault stretched, cracked a yawn, and folded himself into a kitchen chair like a lanky alleycat. Leila's eyes didn't leave the scars on his face as he began:
"Yeah, this was all my idea. Of course, I never intended for anyone to get hurt. I'm afraid I didn't account for Jaffar showing up and shooting, and I'm sorry to say that I gunned him down myself. You see, I needed to talk to Harken here, one on one, and I couldn't risk another interruption from the police or the Black Fang, and that's when a meeting became a kidnapping. Terribly sorry, Harken, I truly am, but that's when I decided that some good could come of my mistake."
"I wanted to stay true to Brendan Reed's dream of purging corruption from the city. You must have realized by now that the Black Fang doesn't follow those noble goals any more. Nergal showed up and now we're no better than the Taliver or the Ganelon. We're thugs. We're the problem we set out to eliminate. What ever happened to us being revolutionaries? When was the last time any of us have fought against king or council? That's why I asked you to look into this, Matthew; I thought you, of all people, might still subscribe to the old ideals, and I thought perhaps you might be able to sniff out who else did, too."
"A storm is brewing. The police are worn thin and breaking their own laws. Half the council is riddled with corruption. The king is a madman. The Black Fang have lost our nobility. Something is going to give, and we have to decide what we'll do when it does," Legault said, his icy eyes intense and hawkish.
The four of them sat quietly a long while. Leila chewed her lip, matching Legault's stare ounce for ounce. Harken's eyes took on a far-off look, as if deep in thought. Matthew toyed with his flick knife, blade sliding out and back in.
Leila spoke first.
"I've met good Black Fang, but not many. Maybe even just Matthew. I admit that I'm skeptical about many of you—present company included, Mr. Hurricane. You talk about noble goals, but the way I see it, you're a kidnapper and a murderer."
Legault shrugged, clearly unperturbed.
"I can imagine why you think that, Detective. I don't deny either of those labels. You don't know me, and you do know creepy guys like Nergal and the Quinns. You don't have to trust me, though. Just what I believe in."
"Would that I could," she murmured.
"So, what do you propose we do with the Fang that don't fit your vision?" Matthew asked.
"Simple. We kill them," Hurricane replied.
"I know we're not exactly talking within the law to begin with, but you can at least pretend you'll do this the right way," Harken cut in.
"Like you don't have bounties set up on half the Fang already?" Matthew shot back.
"A system you used to justify murdering Death Kite, I believe," Leila said.
He gave her a sharp look, but she stared back with such intensity that Matthew looked away first.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he sullenly said.
"You killed Death Kite?" Harken and Legault exclaimed at once.
"…Yeah. He declared me a traitor for doing the job you gave me, and he tried to kill Guy and me. I did what I had to. I don't regret it."
"You can't mean Detective Kitsai?" Harken asked. At Matthew's nod, he said, "My fiancé is good friends with him. If you betrayed the Black Fang for his sake, well…That's quite admirable of you."
"Jerme had no morals or care for his comrades. I don't condemn you," Legault said with a shrug.
"So, are we just going to go in shooting and wipe out the problem members?" Leila asked.
"I don't know."
"I'd prefer we do this peacefully," Harken said. "I've not lived a violence-free life, but I'd like to put that behind me."
"There's no reasoning with people like Ephidel," Leila argued, and Matthew could feel her shiver next to him.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with the detective. Some of the Black Fang would out and out join us, and some could be reasoned with, but Nergal? The Quinns? Jaffar? I highly doubt it."
"Hey, I wouldn't be so quick to judge Angel of Death," Matthew said. "He was really nice to Nino, like you wouldn't believe."
"Creepy guy. Not sure I trust him around her, but if there's the possibility, I suppose we can't just kill him," Legault replied.
Leila's hand found Matthew's knee, her grip tight. He remembered the fear she'd felt, the way she had instantly condemned Jaffar. She didn't know him, of course—none of them did—but his reputation spoke for him. From Harken's scowl, Matthew assumed he thought the same. After Jaffar had killed one of his comrades in front of him, perhaps he was justified.
"Angel of Death killed four of my best officers alone and you want us to spare him?"
"Tell me, who was it that killed Beyard without provocation?" Legault asked.
Harken's face flushed.
"I was on duty during the Caelin struggle. I didn't mean—"
"This is what I'm talking about. Not just the Fang have done wrong, have they?"
"No, but targeting the police the same as we would the Black Fang? That's just revenge."
"So it's revenge if it's them but justice if it's us?" Leila asked. "I don't know, sir. I'm not sure if I buy that anymore."
Harken nodded slowly.
"…I know that. We can't just pardon these people, though. We can crack down on departmental problems in the Lycian police. We can fix that. But I won't just shrug and let criminals roam free. Besides, what's to stop them from being 'revolutionaries' again? They caused the same amount of trouble then as they do now, just in a different capacity. Call it 'noble' if you want, Hurricane, but I still cannot condone it."
Legault nodded, gesturing dismissively to indicate that he hadn't taken offense. Despite the severity of the conversation, he still lounged easily in his chair, eyes nonchalantly half-lidded. Compared to Harken's military-stiff posture, Leila's quivering tension, and Matthew's rapid heartrate, he looked downright indifferent. At the very least, he didn't look liable to offer up an answer anytime soon.
"I mean, obviously you can't just hand these blokes governmental jobs. Half of us would hate it something awful, anyway. No…You've got to make it possible for us to do what we do, but legally. Clean. Call it something like a reform program," Matthew suggested.
"Come off it. No one's going to be okay with that. Nearly a fifth of the city unemployed and the Black Fang getting cushy jobs?" Leila said.
"Well, no, people wouldn't be happy with it. We're heroes in Bern, but Lycians have no real love for us."
"Still, I'm in favor of getting you all out of crime, and if we have to risk people's displeasure, we will. They don't much like us, either," Leila replied.
Legault grinned.
"Oh, the commander would've loved you. The two of you would've been a deadly pair in the good days, I imagine."
Matthew felt a blush touch his cheeks, but he didn't have a chance to say anything.
"What about the council? They'll never be okay with this," Harken said.
"Ha! The council is so divided they can barely agree on anything. Someone's got to agree with us," Matthew replied. He would have time to banter with Legault later.
"You can't just ignore half the Lycian government!" Leila argued.
"…Maybe," Harken said. "I used to be a personal bodyguard in Laus, you know, before the councilor turned me out and tried to have me killed as a scapegoat for one of his mad schemes. Councilor Elbert was the one who stepped in and took me into his own guard. I would give my life for him or Councilor Uther, and I will not hear ill spoken towards them. They're good men. They might back us."
Leila nodded.
"We can at least try. We'll have to arrange a meeting of some sort and talk in private. You can mention that we've got some leads on the Black Fang and that they're looking at going legitimate."
"Or we can just do what Caelin did," Legault said. "Now it's one of the safest places to live. They just had to cut a swath through its problems."
"Well, we'll—"
"Quiet," Harken interrupted, fiddling with the dial on the radio. His voice carried a note of urgency that silenced even Legault.
They all leaned in and listened intently to the staticky noise.
"-citizens stay inside and do not travel to north Bern. I repeat: there is a Black Fang shootout on Wyvern Street. All citizens stay inside and do not travel to north Bern. I repeat..."
"Well. Fuck," Matthew muttered.
Leila and Legault sprang to their feet, guns in hand. Harken started barking orders.
"Beckett, dial up Detective Tialys. Get the rundown on the situation from him immediately. Hurricane, if you have a spare weapon, I'd appreciate it. Matthew, you said you're a cabbie, right? You can probably get us there quicker than I could, so you're driving. Take two minutes to get ready and we're heading out."
"Yes, sir!" Leila replied, saluting crisply.
"Legault, I need a gun, too. Mine got confiscated," Matthew said.
"I've got one spare, and it's going to the police chief here. I'm sorry."
Matthew nodded, shutting his mouth on his arguments. Of the four of them, he was the only one without some measure of formal training, and he had another job to boot. He was still a thief at heart, something of a coward, not meant for front-line combat.
Leila hung up the phone and turned back to them.
"The police staged a raid on the Black Fang headquarters. They...thought you'd kidnapped me, Matthew, and with Guy having been shot by Death Kite, they took action. Officer Watson is leading the attack."
The color drained out of Harken and Legault's faces at the same time, and a realization sparked in Matthew's head. Legault had sent Isadora on a wild goose chase the same time he was meeting Harken. Legault had written at least one letter to Isadora to console her. Legault paid Isadora personal visits for tea and conversation. It all made so much sense.
He glanced over at Leila and felt heat rush to his face. He and Legault perhaps weren't so different.
"C'mon, we've got to go. Legault, you're in charge," Matthew said, pushing open the door.
"I'm afraid the police chief here is better-equipped for that than I am," he replied with a shrug. "Of course, that's on the condition that I can ride up front."
Leila snorted.
"We have more important things to worry about right now," she said, wrenching open the passenger-side door and sliding in. Legault indignantly arched an eyebrow, but he sat in the back with Harken anyway. There was something faintly amusing at seeing him and the police commissioner behind the gate together. It looked like something a political cartoonist would dream up, gangster and policeman side-by-side, united in purpose. It felt inspiring to Matthew, though, and he grinned.
"All right. Take us in to Bern as quickly as you can. If there are bullets flying, get us close, but stay near the police vehicles. It'll make us less appealing targets. Beckett and I will reconvene with Isadora and take point," Harken said.
"I beg your pardon, but the detective really oughtn't just bust in. She's marked as a Fang traitor now, you see. Matthew, too. And you know what happens to traitors..." Legault replied.
"As soon as you go in with the police, you're fucked, as well," Leila sharply said. Matthew thought back to what Ursula had told him and was forced to agree. The Quinns already distrusted him. Heading in with the council's dogs would crush any credibility he had left.
"We'll call for Lloyd. He'll certainly listen to us," Legault stated.
"What about Ursula? She and Isadora are friends," Matthew suggested.
"Wait, Ms. Corone is in the Black Fang?" Harken asked.
"...yeah, well, you should probably just get used to all these surprises. That's what we do."
The sound of gunfire put a stopper on their conversation. Leila cocked her gun, a silent calm stealing over her. Matthew envied her composure. His pulse hammered in his ears, a quick staccato, and sweat slicked his palms. He fervently wished he had a weapon beyond just his flick knife. His eyes scanned the streets, the buildings, the roofs, trying to make things out through the bleak beginnings of rain.
The police occupied the far side of the road, crouched behind their Warhorses like soldiers behind earthworks. Officers peeked out over the bonnets of the vehicles to take shots at the safe house. None of the Black Fang had left the building, though the barrels of their guns poked out of the cracked and shattered windows, and Jaffar's bright red hair stood out like a banner against the dusty rooftop. He and Denning crouched side by side, long-barreled rifles in hand. A few police lay dead or wounded in the streets, but Matthew couldn't see the damage done to the Fang. A fire smoldered in the charred wreckage of a neighboring shop, sputtering out as the raindrops hit it.
A bullet cracked Matthew's windscreen, and the four of them hunkered lower in their seats. He pulled the car into park, nearly bumper-to-bumper with the police car in front of him, and they scrambled out the side.
Isadora stood there, waiting to issue orders, but the words didn't come. Her mouth opened and shut soundlessly as she stared at Harken. He tiredly smiled and held his arms out. As the two hugged, they both tried to talk at once, a flood of "I missed yous" and "I was so worrieds" flowing out of their mouths.
"We'll explain later," Legault cut in. They both backed up, looking a little dazed. "We've got to do something about this mess."
"I'll give you the short of it, ma'am," Leila said with a salute. "I've been undercover in the Fang for two months, gathering information. Legault and Matthew here are defected Black Fang members who came to assist us. We rescued Chief Griflet and came to talk with these Black Fang. We're going to end this."
"Sir Legault, you're Black Fang?" Isadora asked, stunned.
"Former Black Fang," he corrected. "I'm not all bad, I promise. I'm here to help."
"Harken?"
"...Yeah, that's the plan. We're going to ask for White Wolf and his delegation to meet me and these three," he replied.
Isadora's jaw clenched.
"No, I cannot. I cannot risk losing you again! I'm taking your place."
"What? No, no! That's out of the question."
It wasn't Harken who had spoken, though.
"I don't believe I asked you, Sir Legault," she said. From the way she side-eyed him, she clearly hadn't even begun to handle his Fang involvement or Harken's return. She didn't have the time nor energy to put up with his bullshit.
"I agree with him," Harken firmly stated. "And while I am your fiancé, I am also the chief of police, and as such—"
Even Matthew could see that that was the wrong thing to say. Isadora's brows lowered. Her scowl darkened the lines across her forehead, the shadows under her eyes, giving her a look like a thunderstorm personified.
"As my fiancé, you should love me enough to respect my autonomy; as my superior, you should understand that you've been MIA for a week and are in no condition to be in the field. As acting head of this investigation, I am responsible for parlaying with the Black Fang, and you will stay behind. That's an order," she said.
Harken wilted, shoulders slumping.
"You're right, my dear. Forgive me. Just...be careful. I'll cover you from back here."
She smiled and touched him on the arm.
"I feel safer already. Sir Legault, if you would, please arrange this meeting."
"Certainly. Call off your men, firstly. They'll never trust you if all these men are trying to riddle them with bullets," he said.
Isadora obliged. The booming of gunfire abruptly cut off from the police side of the street. After a few moments, the Fang shots slowed to a stop as well. Jaffar peeked over the lip of the roof, staring down at them like a falcon eying up prey. Legault calmly stood up, his hands out where they could see them, and walked out into the middle of the street. Matthew couldn't breathe, wondering if anyone would gun him down, would move to hurt him. Of all the things Legault had done in his tenure as a Fang assassin, Matthew found walking down that empty road to be the bravest of them all.
"Lloyd! Lloyd, I need to speak with you!"
Jaffar's low voice replied.
"White Wolf is occupied."
"This is Hurricane. I need to speak with Lloyd! The police and I have met, and they would like to arrange a truce of sorts. Our delegation and theirs. Send word, will you?"
Jaffar stayed quiet for a moment, then leaned over to Denning and spoke inaudibly. Matthew watched with rapt attention, his heart thudding in his chest. He was acutely aware of the number of guns trained on Legault, of how quickly his life could end if he said the wrong thing.
Denning slipped down the stairs, and his voice rose over the silent street.
"This is a message from the police. 'I await your delegation.'"
"Aye, I heard," Lloyd said as he walked out the door. He cut a daring figure, tall and tough, his chin up and his voice fearless. "I don't know what you're doing, Legault, but I'm going to listen. I don't promise anything else."
"Yeah, that's just fine by me. Take three of your best men, I suppose, and we'll have a chat."
"Middle of the street? Guns pointed at both of us?"
"Isn't that the way you always operate?" Legault returned with a laugh.
"A fine response! Give me a minute and I'll be back. I'll tell our men not to fire unless yours do," Lloyd replied. A hint of amusement touched his voice, though. Matthew tentatively took it as a good sign.
"My men? Yeah, not quite. Sorry to disappoint, but I don't command anyone but myself. Nonetheless, I'll communicate your terms."
Lloyd nodded curtly, turned on his heel, and walked back into the rundown building.
"He'll play fair," Matthew said, speaking more to Leila than anyone else.
"I don't know," she said, "but I'm willing to take that chance."
She put her hand on his arm, and Matthew felt a flicker of courage suffuse him. Then Legault motioned for them, and they simultaneously rose to their feet. Isadora holstered her gun and walked out first. Matthew and Leila traded a quick glance and followed. Leila's eyes didn't leave the roof, watching Jaffar. He stared back, unmoving, like a gargoyle.
Lloyd walked out of the Fang house, his thick duster draped over his shoulders like the king's ceremonial robes. His brother loped easily at his side, wearing a toothy grin, loose in the face of adversity as only Linus could be. Igor limped along at his other flank, stern and levelheaded, his Fang tattoo displayed boldly by his sleeveless vest.
To Matthew's horror, a man that could only be Ephidel brought up the rear, his pale face cool and unamused. Leila shivered, but held her ground, jaw clenched.
"We are ready to talk," Ephidel said, but his eyes were fixed on Leila. "It would be nice to ask why so many of the Black Fang's own stand among the police, though."
His eyes glittered an eerie gold in the low light, and Matthew couldn't get a read off of him. He'd never known of anyone outside the Quinns with those metallic eyes and that coal-black hair, that pale, bloodless skin and handsome androgyny. They looked like vampires from old storybooks, and certainly Ephidel gave off that same predatory vibe. Even knowing what horrible things he'd done to Leila, Matthew found himself faintly awed. It made his skin crawl, and he had to look away to snap himself out of it, like a mouse staring into a cobra's eyes.
"We all choose our own paths," Legault replied with a shrug, seemingly oblivious to the others' unease.
"Hey, I want to know what's up, too," Linus rumbled.
"Suffice to say that I am doing what the commander wanted me to. Yeah, it looks odd now, but it's for the good of Bern, of Elibe."
His answer didn't seem to wholly satisfy Linus, but it did mollify him some.
"Where's Blue Crow?" Matthew asked. "Why's Igor here instead of her?"
"Dead," Igor said, swallowing thickly. "I'm not a good replacement for her at all, but she got surprised by these guys out here. Took six shots in a second. I watched her die myself."
"Oh," Matthew said quietly.
"We can't do anything to help her now, though. Not until we hear what this is about," Lloyd said.
Leila stepped up.
"The chance at a pardon. We're working on a reform program, something to get you off the streets and helping out the city, on the government's coin, no less. We're trying to find a way for the Black Fang to work legitimately."
"When's the last time you helped people? Since your father died?" Matthew asked.
"That's not important right now. He wouldn't have wanted us working with the government," Lloyd said.
"We're not all bad," Isadora told him. "And if you want us to get better, shouldn't you actually do something about it instead of destroying our property and impeding our efforts?"
"Why, you—" Linus snarled.
"The Black Fang does plenty, Lady Officer. We do not require your aid," Ephidel smoothly said.
"Horseshit," Matthew replied. "We're just as bad as the police and the government. Look how you treated Leila, and how little the rest of you did about it. Think about how readily you guys would let half the others here die. What kind of brotherhood is this, huh?"
The Reed brothers traded glances, chagrined. Ephidel's golden eyes narrowed.
"...Remember what we did to Aesha," Legault said quietly. Matthew didn't know whom he referenced, but his words had a sobering effect on the others.
"I agree, but...I don't know if that's enough to make me take your offer. We can reform the Black Fang without all this," Lloyd said.
"The Black Fang's choices are not determined by the Reeds anymore. Nergal has the final say." Ephidel cut in.
"I'm sick of hearing you and your sister yammer on and on, giving us orders! Sonia's never going to be my mother, and I don't have to take orders from her—or you—anymore," Linus growled. He made a terrifying sight, more than six feet of powerful muscle. He cracked his knuckles.
For once, Lloyd didn't move to hold his brother back. His own face darkened, mirroring his brother's bellicose scowl.
"I invited you to this talk out of respect—" he spat the word "—for your position. The Fang is in trouble. I don't care if we kill every politician and policeman in this city. It won't fix our problems. I've said the same thing how many times now? And you've always ignored me."
"I do not think that is necessary," Ephidel continued. His hand strayed slowly towards the gun at his hip. Matthew glanced around, realizing that no one else noticed.
With a shout, he dashed forward, bumping into Ephidel just the same was he would bump into a pigeon he was trying to pickpocket. His fingers found the grip of the gun, and he palmed it in a second, jumping back.
Ephidel spat a curse and lunged. Linus grabbed him before he got more than two paces, holding him in place with one burly arm.
"This man is dangerous!" Isadora said. "What game are you playing?"
"I promise, this isn't a trap," Igor replied, casting a withering glance at Ephidel.
"It feels like one," Leila said, glancing around.
"Don't say things you don't understand—" Linus started.
"Stop, we don't need to—" Legault interrupted.
"Police are roughing up our guys—"
"Your man attacked us!"
"He was grabbing a gun, Mad Dog—"
"I didn't ask you—"
"Brother, maybe—"
"Quiet!" Legault yelled. "Arguing like this isn't doing any of us any good. We need to sit back and think with our heads, eh? Do remember that. We need—"
A single gunshot sounded, and Legault staggered. His words died on his lips. Sonia stood in the doorway, holding a gun and grinning.
"Bitch!" Linus shouted, tossing Ephidel aside and bringing his bullpup rifle to bear. With a few sputtering cracks, he charged into the building. Matthew watched with shock as he bowled Sonia over, crashed through the half-closed door, and disappeared. With a yell, Lloyd rushed in after him.
"Don't get involved!" Isadora yelled back to her officers, looping an arm around Legault. He leaned heavily on her, wheezing a weak thank-you, eyes glassy and unfocused. Blood spilled from his chest, and his gun slipped from numb fingers.
Matthew froze, staring at Legault. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he saw Leila spring forward like a tiger, her fist connecting squarely with Ephidel's jaw. He snarled and tried to knock her over, but Leila braced herself on her back foot. She caught him around the legs. In an instant, Ephidel rolled over her shoulder, slamming hard into the ground.
He grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the floor. Leila yelped as he fisted his hand in her hair, but then she sunk her teeth into his arm, and he pulled back with a hiss. The detective rolled and pinned him beneath her. Ephidel outweighed her by a good fifty pounds or more, but Leila held him in place, grinding his face into the pavement.
"You're under arrest, you crazy bastard," she said.
Seeing that Leila had things under control, Matthew ran in at the heels of the other Black Fang. He stepped over Sonia's bullet-ridden body in the doorway as he slunk into the dark safehouse.
Lloyd and Linus blocked the entryway, nearly back to back, their weapons pointing out at the assembly of Fang members. To Matthew's eyes, there weren't many left. Aion and Teodor had their heads splattered against the wall, their weapons never even drawn; Kenneth's eyes stared blankly ahead, a salvo of bullets through him; Zoldam lay face-down, unmoving, in the corner. A dozen others that Matthew didn't recognize lay injured or dead, their blood staining the floor.
"Everyone out, now," Linus bellowed. "We're talking."
"Put down your guns," Lloyd added. "Nothing personal, but one of you just shot the Hurricane, and I'm not in any mood to play around."
Nino set down her submachine gun first, grinning at her brothers, and Jaffar followed her lead without a word. At the sight of Angel of Death forfeiting his rifle, most of the Fang complied. Uhai dropped his weapon on the ground beside him, hands up. Some recruits whose names Matthew didn't know saluted sloppily and tossed down their knives. Ephidel's sister, Limstella, put away her gun, and after she spoke a few words, Denning did the same. He still mumbled under his breath, but no one spoke to silence him. Some of the others didn't look too happy to listen, though—least of all Pascal, who bristled and focused his shotgun on them.
"Put down your weapon," Lloyd repeated, a hint of a growl in his voice.
"No," Pascal returned.
Lloyd and Linus simultaneously pulled the triggers, taking him out. Everyone watched silently as Pascal hit the floor, neatly shredded by bullets. Matthew's blood chilled.
"Listen up, mates," Linus said. "We ain't kidding. This is a big day for the Black Fang. Nergal's bullshit is over. Our arses are surrounded by police and the dead bodies of half our best men, and we've got to make a choice here."
"Nergal is dangerous," Limstella said, her voice hollow and haunting. "He has influence and power beyond your belief."
"I've never even met him," Igor scoffed.
"He pulls strings in Bern...He controls the king," she continued.
"Point a gun and pull the trigger. I think that's what Teodor would've said," Lloyd replied.
"Nergal is my father," Limstella said. She squeezed Denning's hand, whispered a few words to him, and he nodded dazedly.
"Yeah, well, your sister just tried to kill Hurricane, and your brother might've made to shoot two of our other members," Lloyd said.
"You misunderstand," Limstella continued. "He is my father. He cannot afford to be weak, yet he has. He trusted the other two...to be strong. They are not. I am stronger than they ever were, and I will survive. Loyalty to him...That's just a construct."
A shiver ran up Matthew's spine.
"We can pretend that isn't creepy," he muttered, and Igor nodded.
"Now, what do we want to do?" Lloyd said. "I'm not making a decision without all of you."
"I go wherever the Mad Dog goes," Igor replied immediately. Linus grinned.
"No one's going to accept us like this," someone said.
"Who's going to bother us?" Uhai countered. "We're feared, not despised. Do you know how many insects have tried to heckle me and met their end already? Fear not! We can all take care of ourselves."
"What about Jaffar?" Nino piped up.
"Weird bloke," Igor muttered. "Why do you care?"
"He's my best mate," she said defiantly, slipping her hand into Jaffar's. The assassin nodded and stood a little straighter. Bandages still cocooned his chest, a silent reminder of his tie to her. Jaffar still made Matthew uneasy, of course, but his interactions with Nino assuaged that somewhat. He was sure that Leila would take some solace in it.
"All right, well, yeah, his vote counts, too," Linus said.
"So, are we taking their deal or not?" Lloyd asked.
Everyone except Denning raised their hands in affirmation.
"This is a message from..." he began, but Limstella squeezed his hand and spoke for him.
"He agrees."
Matthew grinned, clapping Lloyd on the back.
"All right, mate, let's talk to Legault and the police before they get all worried about us."
He turned and walked back outside, not waiting for the others. An eerie calm had settled over the street, the only sounds the drumming of rain on the paving-streets and the slosh of water sputtering out of drainpipes. The injured or dead police had been dragged out of the road. The remaining cops milled about behind the ring of cars, some holding guns, others holding radio receivers.
Leila and Isadora sat beside Legault in the middle of the road. He lay half-draped on Isadaora, his hat tipped over his eyes and his hand resting on his chest. Rainwater poured down Isadora's face, smudging her make-up and giving her the appearance of tears. She didn't look up at the sound of Matthew's footfalls, but Leila did. Harken hovered a little ways away, an unreadable look on his face.
"Hey, cheer up! We did it. We won," Matthew said.
He could see a shiver pass through Leila. She hesitated for so long that he almost prodded her to continue, but the pale look of dread on her face was enough to give him pause. Leila let out a shaky breath.
"...Matthew, he's dead."
He stood there, staring blankly at Legault's body. All of his planning and scheming, his dreams for a better Black Fang, wiped out in a quarter second. It was so unfair. His mentor, his best mate in the Fang, dead in an instant. The fear and anxiety poured out of Matthew in a rush, as if someone had gutted him. For some reason, tears wouldn't come. His arms felt leaden at his sides, and his heart tightened into a heavy ball in his ribcage.
Leila came to stand next to him, resting a hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry," she said. It sounded weak to Matthew's ears.
"Why do you apologize?" he asked, forcing a smile. "He messed up."
Leila stared blankly at him.
"He was going to get to enjoy a new, better Elibe...but I guess he never will. I'll have to work twice as hard..." he said. Matthew wanted to scream, to sob, to do anything but stand there like an idiot. For some reason, the impulse couldn't seem to jump from his brain to his muscles. He swallowed thickly.
"We'll bring him back to the police coroner for now," Isadora said, voice wobbling. She gently moved Legault's body out of her lap and drew to her feet. "Along with all the other casualties of this battle. We can get him to the morgue after that. Don't worry about the cost."
"He loved you, did you know that? I always thought nothing could get to Legault, but somehow you did," Matthew said.
Isadora nodded miserably.
"He told me, right before he died. Funny...he never made any attempt to act on it...Sir Legault was quite the gentleman."
Harken put his arm around her shoulders, and she sagged against him. They looked like a pair of war veterans, the last survivors of a calamity, pushed beyond the limits of their endurance.
"He was something," Harken agreed, meeting Matthew's eyes and nodding, an unspoken promise passing between them. "...Unfortunately, Matthew, you're still under arrest. You'll have to head back to the precinct with Detective Beckett and get this mess sorted out. I imagine sooner or later the rest of your Fang brethren will meet up with you and we can process you all at once."
"...Can I be arrested a little later? I need to say goodbye."
Matthew crouched next to Legault, taking off that stupid purple-banded trilby of his. Someone had already closed his eyes, and a trace of a smirk still touched his lips. He looked an instant away from laughing—a fitting legacy, Matthew thought.
"They got you this time, mate," he murmured, staring at the dual scars across Legault's face. "I'm going to carry this through...that's what you'd want, right?"
He stared a moment longer, seeking one last bit of council from his mentor. Matthew would almost swear that, with the rain pouring around him, Legault nodded.
"All right, Detective. Take me away."
Leila put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the car.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"...It's all right."
"For what it's worth, you're probably not going to jail. You'll stay in your flat pending trial."
"That's something, I guess. And, well...we did it. The Black Fang actually took your deal."
Leila smiled tiredly. They both stood by the car, neither making a move to get in. He realized that they probably looked no better than Harken and Isadora, exhausted and bloodied.
"I know. You're a hero, Matthew."
"...I want the credit to go to Guy. Forget about me."
"I...What?"
"I'll say he told me where Harken was, and it was his detective work. I just had to do that last bit of legwork there. Look, I...I just lost one of my two best mates in the world. Gone like that. I'm an unemployed criminal, maybe facing prison. What've I got left if something happens to Guy, too? I already got him shot trying to finish this."
Leila opened the door and slid into the back seat beside him. To his surprise, she put her arm around him. He leaned against her with a sigh.
"You're not quite alone, you know. You asked before if I trusted you; I still do. And I've perhaps become a little too attached to you."
He smiled weakly.
"You mean a lot to me, too. I don't think this is really the right time, but...thanks."
"We make a fine pair, huh?" she murmured. "We're both going to need a long holiday to begin to get over this."
Matthew let out a hollow chuckle.
"Tell me about it...At least we got them, though. Sonia's dead and Ephidel's in cuffs. They can't hurt anyone else. I just...I wonder if Legault would've still gone through with this if he'd known how it would all end up."
"From what I saw of him? I think so. He wasn't about to let his mortality get in the way."
"Yeah..."
"Even if you give Guy all the credit, though, you'll still be a hero. A liaison between the government and the Black Fang, maybe. I suppose you'd better get ready to meet some important people."
He stared out the window a minute, at the shot-up Black Fang safehouse and the street before it. Some of his old companions trickled out, stopping to pay their respects to Legualt on the way. They were a ragtag bunch, chewed up and beaten up. He watched Igor slowly limp out, Jaffar clutch his chest as he leaned on Nino, Uhai drag his leg behind him. In the mud and rain, though, the police didn't look much better. Harken still looked like he'd been run over by a train, and Isadora half-leaned on him, half-supported him, the drizzle giving them both a bedraggled appearance. Lloyd talked with them, gesturing with his hands at the men behind him."
"Nah, leave that to the Reeds. They always were real leaders. Me, I'm just a blue-collar guy. Hands-on. I think I might try something a little different."
"And what would that be?" Leila asked.
"...Detective work."