Chapter 4
The next day Queenie moved about the office with careful efficiency. Cleaning up bits of this and that, moving Tina's model form, putting away some of old paperwork. All the while her gaze is on her sister. Tina sitting at the desk, her chin rested against the heel of her hands, curled fingers resting against her rouged mouth. The same position she had been in for nearly an hour, gaze fixed on nothing and seemingly unseeing if her reaction to Queenie - or lack of one - was any indication.
Finally, done with busying herself, Queenie came in and sat across from her sister. Still nothing from Tina, so she raised her hand and waved it before her sister's face.
"Hello? Anyone in there?"
"Hmm? What?" Startling, shifting in her seat as Tina brought her hands to rest in her lap. "Pardon?"
"Oh look. She alive," Queenie teased with a sly smile. "I was beginning to worry if you'd been stupified."
Waving one hand at her sister, Tina rolled her eyes. "No, I've just been thinking about some things. Why? Did I say something?"
"No, nothing at all. Which is exactly why I was worried," Queenie said, still carrying on with the teasing. "Everything's okay though?"
Shifting in her seat, trying to adjust herself with a tug of her skirt and a hand moving to twist a curl about her finger. "Yes. Of course. I mean, why wouldn't it be?"
"I only ask because word was on the floor today that your little boyfriend arrived at MACUSA with Ara in his arms ."
For a moment Tina tried opening her eyes wide, trying to look a bit stunned and innocent at what she was being told. For about a second before rolling her eyes. "Sorry, Queenie. So many have come to me today, telling me that to see how I reacted that reacting to it has become second nature."
Queenie sighed, leaning back a bit in her chair, relaxing now that her sister seemed a bit more normal. "You are not jealous of her?"
"Why not. Ara is smart and sexy and hot and good at fights and have big boods," she said, a hint of a flush to her cheeks as she said it. Likely less from embarrassment and more about the beauty of said boods. "I know New loves me but when Ara in with him, his smile is bigger"
"Sweetie, Newt loves you and want to spend her rest of his life with you but Ara is his only something happens to her , Newt would be heartbroken and we do not want that."
"No. Course not," Tina said, sitting up straight and looking downright indignant. "I tried to be friendly with her" she finally admitted. "She hates me."
She looked away, staring at the wall before looking down at the deak. Slowly her gaze slid back up to meet gaze with her sister.
"Why?"
Queenie rose, coming over to stand behind her sister. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around Tina and hugged her tight.
"She is afraid of you ." Kissing Tina's temple, she gave her another hug. "She is afraid that you will keep Newt away from her''
That she didn't answer right away with a glib answer was telling, and also touching. "This is stupid. She is afraid of me?"
"Newt is Ara'only friend and she is afraid that she will left alone if Newt marry you. ."
Queenie startled, twisting in Tina's arms to look at her more fully. "What?. I don't want to take Newt away from her, I know that he was not popular at school which meant not a lot of friends and I know Newt loves and care for Nemesis. "
No one noticed the dark figure who walked into the room becoming one with the darkness. The figure continues to listen the chat between the two sisters ,feeling the cold steel of a knife against her hand took a step out the shadows.
"Really?"Ara spoke in a firm voice, while Tina and Queenie fell silent, like recalcitrant children who knew they had misbehaved.
"You," Nemesis pointed at the frightened, pale blonde witch. "Out!"
Queenie glared at her saying ."What?"
"Out."Ara looked up at Queenie with eyes that promised violence.
Tina tensed a little from the sound of the door closing.
"I am not going to kill you,"
Ara was literally the most terrifying woman Tina'd ever met.
"I am not so sure!"She says her voice cracking from fear.
Ara nodded, throwing her gun and knives down onto the small table in front of her.
"I am here to talk"
Tina pulled out her wand and walked to the kitchen area. With well-practiced movements and spells, she made a pot of tea which poured into two teacups. As she levitated one full teacup to rest on the table in front of Ara.
Ara doesn't jump, doesn't startle, but her heart leaps in her chest, an ingrained reaction of years of hating and fearing every magic thing could do.
Tina must sense it, because she jerks her head towards Nemesis, and then Tina face floods with contrition. "Oh. I'm sorry. I should have asked-"
Ara waves her off, letting her heart settle. Yes, she would have preferred if Tina asked, but she understands why she didn't.
"Miss Red, do you take milk or sugar?"
Ara lifted her head from her hands and gazed in some confusion and awe at the steaming cup of tea in front of her. "Um...just a spoonful of sugar, please," she responded softly.
The corner of Tina's mouth turned upwards. "I take mine the same," she said, and a little silver spoon flew to the sugar bowl and expertly placed a spoonful of the sweet substance in Ara's cup and then Tina's cup. Once that was done, Tina sat down in the chair beside the hunter.
The two adults spent the next stretch of time sipping their tea and not saying anything. The silence wasn't exactly oppressive, for at that moment neither of them could find any words to say. Perhaps there were none after what they'd been through. The numb shock was wearing off as their tea was sipped, and the grief was beginning to really sink in. The first blow of it came to Tina when she had finished her cup of tea and she looked at Ara again. The hubter too had finished her tea, and now she sat slumped forward in her chair with a terribly cold look on her face.
"I am a possessive human being. A child with very few possessions, I treasured them, guarded them. And hated people touching what was mine."Ara says firmly shoving aside her nervedark.
Deep down Ara Red was a possessive bitch. And she knew it. Maybe it came from a childhood when everything she owned fit into a duffel bag. Whatever the reason, the things that were her she kept. The things that were her she treasured. The things that were her, she took care of.
And it didn't matter how something became her- it just mattered that it was. Even if the gun was once his's, on tgr day Ara became a member of his team it became her. It was her means of transportation. Her connection to her creator . Her little bit of freedom. Her.
It didn't matter that Newt was her little brother. On that night when Ara met him at Asia the man became her. Her to rescu. Her responsibility. Her first priority. Her.
"New is the only one who see through my mask and my darkness."
Very gently, Tina captured Ara 's hand in both of her own and held it securely.
''Queenie told me sometimes you just go quiet and there's so much sadness, maybe even longing?" Tina shrugged "I try to ignore it, cause its none of my business but-"
"You're right it isn't any of your business." The heat in Ara's tone was enough to have the American witch flinching but Ara felt no gratification for it. Instead, if anything, he just felt worse.
"It's difficult." Ara added, trying to apologize without saying it. Tins nodded at her, smiling a bit now. As if encouraging her to continue.
By Morgana what could she say? She could tell her about him, how cruel and vicius he was. How he always understood her until the one time he didn't. How he thought he and her were going to change the world together, and be together. How he killed and and turned her into a monster. How she found her darkness.
The hunter takes a step back, turns to go as she reached her hand into her bra, retrieving her phone.
Ara's frown deepened and his brow furrowed, but it was no longer out of frustration. "Where and who?"
Mrs. Landry's Boarding House was a house that catered to young witches in New York, usually newcomers to the city, whether they be from other states or countries. To No-Maj's, it looked like a bland and nondescript brick townhouse, which they forgot about the second it was out of their sight. Percival , Wilkins, and Adler all apparated in the alley beside the house and gave the area a quick lookover. By the looks of things, there had not been any major disturbance, in fact, the street was rather docile, at least for New York. When the three Aurors walked through the front door, they saw a very frazzled looking middle-aged woman talking to Tina Goldstein.
"I-I never heard anything!" The woman, presumably Mrs. Landry, said. "There was no noise, none at all! I had no idea... I had no idea..." Mrs. Landry burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.
"The second floor," Tina replied, before turning to Mrs. Landry to console her. "It's perfectly alright Mrs. Landry, just please calm down and tell me what you know."
Percival decided to leave Mrs. Landry to Tina. He never was very good with crying women. He went up to the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time, while Wilkins and Adler followed and urged the other witches in the boarding house to stay in their rooms and assured them that everything was under control.
Percival quickly followed behind and saw Adler trying to fight off the young woman, who was once again wailing in the unknown language. Percival sidestepped the two women and saw for himself what had called him in.
The victim was laid out on the floor, eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. Deep, ugly slashes crisscrossed his body, some going so deep as to almost completely sever that part of the body from the rest. His clothes were so thoroughly soaked in blood Percival could scarcely tell what color they had originally been, and a puddle had formed around his body. Percival felt his stomach roil and bile rise in his throat. In his profession, he was used to murders done by a wand. The eyes were still empty and staring, but the body was usually otherwise untouched. This was far different. He squatted down beside his head, and gently turned it to the side, examining marks on his neck that looked a lot like-
''Well if this is not a beautiful sight, I am a virgin!''
He looked up and saw Ara Red standing beside the victim.
"You are late!"
Ara just ignored him ,only to continue her observation of the body that lay at her feet.
In a swift movement, she bent down to get closer and something glimmered in the light. Ara's eyes found the source of the reflection and she stumbled backward as if she had been physical pushed.
She managed to move backward in what somewhat resembled a backwards crab walk before she bumped unceremoniously into Graves' legs.
She dropped on all fours before the dead body and removed something from his wrist.
The movement was certain, but cautious. Her body tense with the audience she knew she had.
It was the simple things. The little instances in life where the shift of what was and what will be come into precise focus.
The moment right before everything was about to change that can be felt with uneasy intensity. Removing the bracelet had been Ara's moment.
As her fingers felt the cold metal of the accessory solid in his grasp a sudden calm rendered her body still.
"Please Morgana , no!" She whispered to herself, hrr eyes widening. She sucked in a breath and bit his lip. It couldn't be. Not now.
"Are you ok?"
"Why you care?" Ara began in a hushed tone, her warm breath hitting Graves's face and neck."I have to go!"
"Where the fuck are you going Red?" Graves asked bitingly as Tina said indignantly, "Director!"
In answer, the door to the house swings closed leaving behind some very confused Auros and a very angry Director.
Mindwhile Ara was thinking of the body. Alexis Grey, a man of honor is dead. Ara met him at the same day with him, she remembered him sitting in a chair with a cigarette on his mouth and a big scar on his left cheek. He wasn't a people person ,he was more the type shoot first and asked questions later. Alexis was the most ruthless in the team and the most loyal ,always follow orders without questions.
Something was wrong, he was a madman but he would never hurt a member of his team. Right?
She snorts softly and shakes her head impatiently, instinctively remembering to look both ways before traversing a poorly lit street half-way between Scamander's manor building and the park that's her destination. She doesn't want to think about Him now...she doesn't want to think about anything...she just wants to run.
Purposefully clearing her mind, she goes through the motions of simply placing one foot in front of the other. A lot of people do their best thinking while running...or so they claim...but medea thinks that's nothing but a huge pile of horseshit. She walks toward the manor but suddenly, she stops, "There's not many people that can sneak up on me."
The man was a vision of glossy, black hair and flashing, brown eyes.He was only just taller than she was, but not as tall as Graves, and his blue eyes were smiling at her, just like his face.
She looked at him skeptically. "Caligula."
"Yeah." The man nodded and widened his grin.
"You look like crap," Ara retorted, brutally honest as ever.
He grinned easily instead of getting insulted. "I missed you, too, sweetpie''
There might've been a shadow of a grin on Ara' lips for a moment but it disappeared quickly under the weight of the concern she couldn't hide.''We need to talk!''.
"I told you what I know and this is nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Null. Nil. Nix. Nothing. And a whole lot more of that on top of it."The man says, and the words snap out like a whip, true fury in them.
''Do not give me this crap!''
''You have to stop looking the in those murders'' says, and he sounds exhausted.
"You're always a paranoid lunatic," Ara replies.
''I am the lunatic?''The man takes a step forward, and from his vantage point, Ara consciously chooses not to take a reciprocal step back.''You are the one who works for MACUSA''
'I am there just for the hunt..''She said, making the man look up and smile at him predatory.
''I used to do that, Honey'' he said, starting to stand and reach for her"I used to do other things with my..''
The man screamed in pain as Ara steps out twisting Caligulas' wrist, pinning it to the wall, dangerously close window to snapping his neck and throw him out of it.''Touch me and I will end you''
"Okay! Okay!" he winced in pain as he cried out and Ara just stood back in amusement.''I dont understand why you helping MACUSA anyway, you hate the law!'
''I own to an old friend!''Ara gave him an annoyed shove as she pushed him back in his chair, hard'' Now tell me''
''Fuck you," Caligulas says, not picking up, or more likely not caring about, Ara's change in tone.
Ara just rolled her eyes before heading inside, shaking her head and muttering about ignorant men and something like "childish."
"Their are not paster pieces?." He said and Ara startled.''All those turtured techniques,
''Whoever is , must lost his mind!''Ara stuttered, and felt the man freeze next to her.
''He lost his last brain cell when you left!''
She felt the strange tingling across her body.
''He'' Ara says, and some of the anger is draining away from her, replaced by fond resignation.
No...
NO...
She can't do this again. She cannot go back there ,with him in hell around the dead bodies and the blood. She will not go through this nightmare again, she must put an end at this crazyness.
Unknown to her, Graves watched as Ara walked out of the rear exit, walks toward the river and noticed was that she was sitting perfectly still; she hadn't moved for the three minutes he'd been watching her.
Something was wrong. Ara's whole body was visibly shaking with an emotion, fear.
He slipped further into the dark shadows.
No..
He doesn't not like her. This woman was a rule-breaker , sarcastic amd she hates rules. What pissed Graves the most about Ara was that the bitch was always able to provoke him. No one else could make the director act so unprofessionally!. She was lound and nosy.
Graves watched the two of them walk arm in arm to the lift, chatting away with what seemed to be the ease of close friends. He felt a knot in his gut; there was some tension between the two of them that made him wonder what was going on.
Graves walks out of the house and follow them. On one such walk, well into the afternoon, he hears voices, not raised but carefully controlled in such a way that it has the same effect.
He already walks quietly. It's easy enough to make his footsteps silent, to stay light and keep to the shadows as he moves closer.
It's Ara and the man, facing off against one another, each of them crackling with anger. Just seeing it, feeling the tension in the room, makes Percival's stomach lurch.
Graves feels tense, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's not over Ara's anger, but an anticipation of the man's reaction to it.
"This your bodyguard?" He asked Aria with the quirk of his lips. "I'm surprised you haven't lost him by now."
"Much had changed over the years," was all she said, kindly not noticing the flinch from Caligula's or the way Graves tensed and folded his arms across his chest.
"Excuse me," The man asked.
Percival's frown deepened and his brow furrowed, but it was no longer out of frustration. "Look we want your help, you say you know the person how is killing those people. I want a name''
"You know something?" Percival asked, more to Ara than the man.
"You are crazy," He spits out.
Ara and Graves look at each other and that gave the perfect opportunity to Caligulas to get away from them. The attack came fast and furious. Caligula's hit Graves in his face and Ara has just reached a crossroad, when she caught motion in her peripheral vision and instinctively turned towards it, gun ready to fire. Ara didn't get the chance though. Something heavy connected with the hand holding the weapon and there was a dull crack as Ara arm went limp, the gun falling to the ground. The flashlight clattered down next to it, throwing the hallway into darkness. She cried out in pain and anger. Jumping away from a swing aimed at her head, she used her attacker's momentum to kick out, hitting solid flesh.
What followed next was a blur. The attacker lurched forward and Aria used her elbow to hit him on the back, throwing him to the ground. But the move cost her her balance and she fell too. Soon, they were both on the ground, fighting to get the upper hand. Ara managed to get in several blows, but the attacker gave as good as she got, and after one particularly bad hit, Ara blacked out for a second. When she came to, there was an arm pressing against her neck, holding her down.
"Call.."Ara croaked.
A spell lashes across the air and impacts the man who was mid-leap in his attack on Ara who is desperately scrambling along the ground away from it. The cleaved body of the man falls bloody into the floor near to Ara's abandoned gun.
Graves hurries over to Ara. She's shaking and clutching her arm to her. There's a bump and scrape on her forehead and it's bleeding freely. The rest of her face is a stark white mask; her eyes are shocked and glassy; she stares at Graves uncomprehendingly.
"It's OK." Graves soothes her. "We're going to get out of here."
Graves moved one of his hands off from Ara's cheek and brushed it through his blood matted hair, tucking her hair behind her ear. He then leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Aria's forehead. Ara was in shock to move away from the man's touch or push the issue. He then picked the woman up, bridal style, and walked through the corridor.
One minute they were there the next - poof!
Ara likes bars. She always has. Go out, have a few drinks, get lost in a crowd that doesn't know the terrible things you've done or how horrible you are as a person. That's Ara's ideal night. He loves the anonymity – that she could be anyone here around strangers.
She was fan of alcohol , she has never considered himself a drunk ,
alcoholic, maybe, but not a drunk. Sure, she drinks more than the average Joe, but that comes with the stress of the job. Newt disapproves of her unhealthy habits, she can tell, but Ara can't bring himself to care. There are some days to which only a glass of whiskey (or two or three or four, who's keeping count?) will satisfy her. understands and does Newt the same thing, though probably to a lesser extent. She drinks so habitually that he's shocked his liver isn't mush at this point.
John Red—now that man was a drunk. Ara has vivid memories of her dad passed out on the lump of cardboard and thread that somehow passed as a couch with an abandoned bottle of bourbon by a sprawled out arm. Ara remembers having to clean up after her dad on more than one occasion after he's been on a drinking spree. Thank whatever higher power is out there that he never got physical, only found the nearest place to lay, whether that be a bed or the floor, to sleep it off before combatting what would seem like the worst hangover ever. Ara's been half-seas over more times than she'd like, but has never done anything as extravagant as John-freaking-Red.
Sh sipped her first been when she was nine; it tasted awful, burning her throat and nose as it went down. Despite her rough "first time", Ara found herself slowly gravitating toward alcohol. Only alcohol could help soothe your pain, make her forget the misery and feel happy again. She started drinking and nothing else mattered. She threw back drink after drink, letting the alcohol numb her, make her forget about all the horrible things she has done, all the blood in her hands , the tortures but most importantly she wanted to forget Him.
He came to her like a bit of snow, grace shredded from the sky and fluttering down, this wisp of a thing that rested on her brow. He had been a spark of brilliant white in an existence so gray, so shrouded. He was a flame that flickered, a tiny little flame. A flame so bright she shielded her eyes. A flame so small. He was sharp, dexterous, and very unpredictable.
There was no way to destroy a monster without first becoming one yourself.
There is a force in this world- something which has no real shape and no real face.
It sucks us dry of our happiness, of our bright memories, of our deepest desires, hopes, and dreams.
It leaves us cold, empty... bitter.
Many have tried to give it a name, but for some, there is only one thing that it can be known by.
For Aria Red, that darkness had a very specific name, and a very recognizable face: Verone .
Her thoughts cut off when a man came over and approached Ara. He reached up and placed a hand on her shoulder, gathering her full unwanted attention.
"I suggested you remove your hand, if you want to keep it."
"I am not interested in your type of friendly. Last warning."
"Now, come now. Don't be a killjoy. Come join me and my friends over there." He nodded over to the table where a group of men were acting rowdy and slamming back drinks. Obviously, this man couldn't take the hint. With the simple turn of Ara' wrist, the man index finger from the hand that remained on her arm bent backwards in an unnatural manner, snapping the bone. The man yelped in pain, quickly drawing his hand away and cradling it with the other. He did his best to hide the fact he was hurting, trying to look like a big, strong man.
"Shall I continue, or are we done here?"
The man glared, "Bitch." He spat. As he walked away, Ara didn't feel satisfied, especially after the comment he just made. In good faith, with another turn of her wrist, she snapped another finger back, this time the middle one, causing the man to fall to the floor in pain. Ara smirked with pleasure as the people around him came to his aid.
Ara directed her attention to the bar to see she was still waiting on their drinks. The place is rather busy considering it's a Friday night. It was then Ara noticed him. She mentally scolded herself for not noticing him sooner. Right as her eyes met his, he dropped his stare. He had been caught, but it seems she had been caught as well. It was uncommon for a witch or wizard to perform wandless magic, and she did it so effortlessly. His presence made her stomach suddenly ache. It's suspicious that he is here, and it brought Ara back to their altercation in the alley. Ara tore her eyes away from him and did a quick search of the bar.
She walked briskly down the New York City sidewalk. The night air was nippy causing her to bring the sweater she wore closer to her body. She had considered just appariting home until she felt a presence following her. She turned down the next alley and waited right on the edge. Graves turned moments after her, startled as they came face to face. He was busted.
"Why are you following me?"
I heard your conversation with your friend."The voice sent a shiver down Ara spine, not a feeling she was used to. "
She smiled at him. Cold and calculating.
That could mean anything, she thought."It's not polite to eavesdrop, Percival."
"I was there helping you."Graves' voice held a sneer." And I saved your life"
Not even a thank you.
Graves shook his head, clearing such thoughts from his mind.
"Thank you, Graves. You saved my life," she whispered, "I never thought you'd be the one to rescue me. But you did, and I can never thank you enough."
She looked down, and Graves reached out, thinking she was going to cry. Instead, when she looked back up, her smile broke through, vibrant and full of life.
"Plus, you sure know how to do things in style."
A smile and a laugh for him. The man's chest swelled with pride, with something else underneath. These were all unfamiliar feelings; he wasn't sure what to make of them. He was almost, dare he think it, happy.
Thought about this for a second his lips turned up in what could be mistaken as a smile.
"You mocking me?"
"I would never."
Walking around Graves, Ara stepped out of the alley and back to the sidewalk. Graves stood in his place, silently watching her. "You coming?" She called out to him.
It was times like these that Ara wished she was trained in Legilimency. They walked silently the remainder of the way to Ara' apartment. All she could think about was what he was possibly thinking about, and the same could be said for him.
"Well, Mr Graves, your good deed has been accomplished. I have arrived home safe and sound. "
She smirked and walked up the steps of her brownstone. She was about to open the door when Graves stopped her."Thank you for trusting me"She turned from to door and met his gaze.
She sighed and lifted her head. "I trust you, although it doesn't make me feel much better." She got serious again, pinning his with her eyes and looking straight into his soul. "If you betray me, I will be deeply hurt. And then I will burn you."
"Understood."
She nodded, then dropped the threats. "See you tomorrow "
"Come to dinner with me tomorrow night."
"Isn't there some sort of rule against department heads taking a murderer out to dinner?"
"Of course there is. I created it."
Ara scoffed and held back a smile, folding her arms over her chest. "Even so, the answer is no."
"Nor do I give in easy. Goodnight, Mr Graves."
"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow."
Percival ignored her response and began walking back down the sidewalk they had just came down. Once he rounded the corner, he slipped in an alley and apparitied to his own home. When Ara was inside her own apartment, she sat on the couch reflecting back on the way he spoke to her. He reminded her of someone she knew from her past. This one wasn't in a good way. She now felt the clock on her time in New York City ticking.