· x ·
Dyson and Cleo walked arm in arm down the hallway, passing several fae in their progress. Some identified the erised, giving them a wide berth as they passed. Those that knew Cleo for what she was shot Dyson looks of horror, which he tried to ignore. It was easy considering Cleo seemed unaffected by their obvious distaste for her.
After the last couple of fae they passed in the hallway made some remark before edging cautiously around them, Cleo caught Dyson studying her. She raised a shoulder, indicating dismissal. "Don't be shocked. People are always afraid of what they don't understand. They can't quite appreciate the depth of your bravery, either."
"Is it bravery to treat someone with respect?" Dyson wondered.
Shaking her head, Cleo smiled at him. "I think respect is a dying virtue. The younger generations seem to be losing their grip on morality."
"Some of those fae were hundreds of years old," Dyson said. Cleo winked at him and suddenly he felt overwhelmed by the realization that this woman had existed for a very, very long time. It shouldn't have been a surprise that she had a no-bones attitude.
Cleo noticed the fleeting look of alarm flash in Dyson's eyes. "What do you know about the erised, Dyson?"
"Not much, I'll admit. I know you can steal my powers and effectively make me human."
"And yet you are still merely inches away from me? I had two huge Ogre guards who nearly pissed themselves in fear and here you are, willingly touching me."
Dyson considered for a moment. "You haven't threatened me. I saw how my friends behaved around you, with the exception of Kenzi but she's overly protective of those she considers family…"
"I think perhaps you are just an exceptional judge of character, Dyson. It might be part of the reason you came to love Bo so quickly." At that, Dyson stopped walking and dropped Cleo's arm. She paused, turning to face him in the empty hallway. "Ah. Let me tell you about my other power."
She explained her need to feed from people's desires and how doing so required her to realize them for her victims. She told him of how she and Bo had first met and how she had found succubus' love for Dyson entwined amidst her love for Lauren. The shifter looked nervous, but Cleo held out her arm again. "Don't lose your daring now."
Bolstering his resolve, Dyson smiled. They resumed their trek in silence while Dyson collected his thoughts. Eventually he said, "You don't like having to do your thing, do you?"
He felt the falter in her stride. She rapidly recovered. "It's taxing. But a girl has to eat."
"I imagine you weren't very happy when Bo touched you."
Cleo's lips quirked up. "It was unexpected. I haven't been caught off guard in years."
"Bo has a way of doing that to everyone."
"I'm coming to realize that," Cleo murmured.
Their conversation trailed off, each of them lost in thought. Eventually Dyson stopped in front of the door to Lauren's quarters. He handed the key card to Cleo. "I'll contact the seneschal for you. Lauren would want you to make yourself at home," he said. He turned to leave, but Cleo gripped his shoulder.
As he looked back at her, she raised a gloved hand to his face. She gently touched his chin, tilting his head so that the light caught the side of his face better. A low chuckle erupted from the woman, which caused Dyson to frown and glance questioningly at her.
"She did a number on you. That's going to be a hell of a bruise," Cleo remarked.
Dyson's eyes narrowed. "How did you know?"
"I'm a natural observer. I noticed the remnants of tape on Dr. Lewis' hands, but I didn't put it together until just now. You've been teaching her to fight?"
"She asked me to."
"Interesting." Dyson waited for Cleo to elaborate. "I think the doctor is doing her best to prepare for whatever is happening out there. She doesn't want Bo to have to worry about her."
Dyson saw Lauren's motivations with abrupt clarity. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before, but he supposed his own misgivings towards the doctor had clouded rational thought. He hadn't realized that as a mere human Lauren might be frightened at the looming threat of the Garuda. She was always so stoic and unflappable. The doctor must also have realized that she was a weakness for Bo, a place to hit the succubus where it would hurt the most.
"Oh," Dyson breathed.
"She's astute, Dyson. She understands far more than the fae credit her for."
"I know," he admitted.
"Don't underestimate her."
He took a hold of Cleo's hand and turned it over to kiss the gloved top of it. "I won't, I promise," he said and she smiled as he turned to disappear back down the hallway. Sighing deeply, Cleo used the card to let herself into Lauren's quarters.
· x ·
The name of the Pantages Theatre was transitory, like many things in Toronto. Since the days when Dyson claimed that Neve Campbell had danced there, the theatre had been renamed the Imperial Theatre, followed by The Canon Theatre. As it was now operated by the son of Ed Mirvish, late owner of the department store Honest Ed's, it bore the unoriginal moniker Ed Mirvish Theatre.
It had been restored to its original 1920's splendor prior to 1989, when it reopened for use as a Broadway playhouse for Andrew Lloyd Weber's Phantom of the Opera. The show played there for over a decade. Kenzi had even fondly mentioned something about having gone to see it when she'd been in grade school.
Taking in the splendor of the entrance lobby, Bo couldn't help but be overwhelmed by its beauty. Either side of the staircase was lined with tall columns painted a gorgeous golden colour, leading up to vaulted ceilings that had intricate designs of red and gold. For days now, things had been worrisome and somewhat bleak, so it was nice to be surrounded by magnificence.
But Bo's head began to hurt as Dyson negotiated with the guard to allow them to investigate the scene of the vandalism. Humans, when faced with something they couldn't wrap their minds around, often defaulted to plausible explanations to things. So, naturally, finding several tiny, stone garden gnomes amidst a mess of destroyed props in a back room of a popular theatre amounted to nothing more than the work of vandals.
The guard led them to one of the storage rooms normally used for discarded props and left them to their own devices, asking only that they check out with him when they were through. Bo followed Dyson and Kenzi into the room, trailed by Cleo, who had asked to join them rather than spend time in Lauren's apartment twiddling her thumbs.
"Wow would ya look at all this junk," Kenzi muttered, picking up an overly shiny fake sword. "Dude, there is no comparison to the real thing." She wrinkled her nose and allowed the sword to clatter to the floor.
Dyson and Bo both rounded on her. "Don't touch anything!" they exclaimed at the same time.
"Geez, no need to gang up on me," Kenzi intoned, her face transforming into a parody of a pout.
Bo saw that many of the props that looked to have been carefully stacked at one point were now strewn about the room in a whirlwind of a mess. "It looks like there might have been some sort of struggle here."
"Ya think?"
Bo swiped playfully at Kenzi, who backed up into a shelf jarring yet more junk. A few books tumbled off and some stuff fell over. Kenzi just leaned where she was, supported by the shelf. She crossed her ankles and tried to look cool, like she hadn't just contributed to the mess.
Dyson shook his head. It had been a while since he'd been subjected to their antics. He had forgotten that it could be somewhat refreshing. It definitely beat the normal morbid cop-humor he and Hale were frequently exposed to. With a smile on his face, he sniffed the air a bit. "I don't think we're going find anything, Bo. There's been too much traffic through here. I can't get a scent."
Bo frowned. She thought for sure they would find some kind of clue that would point them in the right direction, but it appeared that Dyson was right. There was nothing here but a giant mess. No neon sign said: 'sprite killer went that way!' Disappointed, Bo was about to ask Dyson if he had any ideas when Kenzi let out an unlady-like shriek.
Bo turned to see Kenzi clutching at her head, trying to hide her tightly pinned hair while stamping her foot at her wig, which was now on the floor and seemed to be scampering away. "What the hell?" Bo asked, reaching down to scoop up Kenzi's wig. The thing wriggled in her hand.
"Put me down, you bloody cow!" the wig screamed in a muffled British accent.
Bo squinted at the wig, moving hair to the side to finally reveal a small creature engulfed within. She grabbed the little incandescent greenish-blue man in her fist and handed the hairpiece back to Kenzi.
"Did that astonishingly small man just call you fat, Bo?" Kenzi asked as she adjusted her wig on her head.
Cleo, who until this point had been standing silently just inside the door, laughed and said, "No, I believe that's British for bitch."
"I said put me down!" the sprite yelled, attempting to spit at Bo. A great green gob landed on her forearm.
"Ew!" Bo exclaimed. "Cut it out! We're here to help."
"Go get wasted!" he shouted. "Bleedin' bean-flicker!"
Cleo snickered again.
Bo was tiring of the little man twisting and trying to bite her, to say nothing of insulting her. At least she thought he was. She squeezed her fist tighter. His chest constricted causing the sprite to gasp. "Are you through?" Bo asked. Tiny little hatred-filled eyes fixed on her and he vigorously nodded. "Good. Now, do you know what happened to your little friends?"
"Biscuit arsed tossers weren't no friends of mine!"
The succubus closed her eyes. Her frustration level was rising and she felt her patience wearing exceptionally thin. She'd already had a trying day and it was only two in the afternoon. She took a deep breath and prepared to send a tiny thread of her power into him to make him more compliant.
"Bo, no!" Dyson cried, realizing what she was about to do.
Bo's head snapped up. "What? Why not? I'm just going to make him a little more agreeable."
"You'll kill him. He's too small to handle it."
"You're kidding, right?" Bo said, more than a little terrified that she might have unintentionally snuffed out his life. Dyson kept his gaze level and she felt a shiver of dread travel up her spine. It seemed there was still a lot she had to learn about her powers. She readily used them to her advantage without fully understanding their potency. It unexpectedly frightened her.
Glancing around the room Bo found a small, round hatbox and dumped its contents on the floor. She stuffed the sprite inside and closed the lid before handing it to Dyson. "You and Hale can try to get to the bottom of that little conundrum. I'm outta here." She brushed past Cleo and burst into the hallway. She wanted to get away before the others noticed that her hands had begun to shake.
· x ·