Magician was right; the Keep was easy to find. Locals directed him to the town's red light district and there it stood prominent, a modern building offset by the traditional brick houses surrounding it. Its windows were tinted a reflective orange that shone like evening sunlight under the streetlamps. Within them he could see the dark silhouettes of nubile, dancing women. He groaned internally, briefly questioned his brother's taste, counted backwards from one hundred, then walked in with squared shoulders.

The bouncer was expecting him and he was directed to a cubicle in the corner, cut off from the rest of the club by a hazardly swinging door. Magician was already there, sprawled out on the length of the red, leather couch facing the window. Killua took note of his surroundings, a pavlovian habit at this point.

Opposite Magician was an identical couch placed under the window, and the two were separated by a metal table. Two pint glasses, already filled. The ceiling hung low above them. There were no lights in the cubicle, but solid columns of strobe lights flashed in the air above them, casting uneven light over Magician's face. His heavy lidded eyes looked at Killua lazily as he walked in. Suddenly Killua felt claustrophobic.

He dredged up what he knew about Magician, which was very frustratingly little. The man had always been a shadow lurking at the edge of his vision, smiling a little, wry smile that always made his skin prickle as a child. His brother had once warned him to 'never go near that strange man' and he hadn't been inclined to disobey. He was regretting that now.

"I'm surprised you came," said Magician. He was playing some sort of card game, cards flicking between the hand he wasn't leaning on and the two decks on the table. Killua tried to follow but none of it made any sense, the cards switching hands on some inconsistent logic.

"Did you give me a fucking choice?"

"Sit down," he gestured. "It's just you and me here. We can be as honest as we want with each other."

The damned man kept smiling.

"Put up a ward," said Killua.

"Why so distrustful?" Magician raised an eyebrow, putting up a mock tone of offense. Killua wasn't fooled.

"You'll forgive me for not trusting you of all people. Why'd you choose a room with a window? Answer me that."

Magician didn't answer. His eyes flicked to the window, then he sat up and danced his fingers in the air in the easily recognizable spell. The ward encompassed the room, emitting a soft hum then silence. Killua tested it with a finger. It was thick enough to satisfy and he sat down wordlessly, keeping his eyes trained on Magician.

"Satisfied?" Magician asked.

"What do you want?" Killua leaned forward and took a glass at random. He sipped at it gingerly while Magician spoke.

"Simple. I just want you to tell me how my dear Needle died."

Killua laughed. "Don't think you can fool me. I know he was nothing more than a catamite to you. You didn't give a rat's ass about him."

"Then call it curiosity."

Killua throws an arm over the head of the couch, the other hand wrapped firmly around his glass. "Fine. I killed him."

For the second time that night, Killua felt bloodlust ebbing off Magician. Despite himself, Killua found himself enjoying this, and he couldn't help the hard-edged smile eating its way on to his features. His claws itched inside his fingertips, ready to come out should Magician make a move.

"Got a problem with that?" he said. When Magician didn't say anything he continued. "He wouldn't let me save my sister. He was standing in my way, so I got rid of him." None of the guilt that weighed on his chest made way into his voice, and he sounded sadistically proud of himself, which suited him just fine at the moment.

"Killua Zoldyck," Magician finally spoke, and Killua's smile dropped. How did he –

"How do I know your name? Your brother was more than just a catamite, and he did so love to talk." Magician had one palm over his eye, fingers embedded in his scalp, drawing blood. Killua's claws slid out. Magician didn't move, no twitching to indicate that he wanted to. He just stared at Killua with one crazed eye.

"That makes sense. Boar's death would be a mystery unless you knew about our poison," Killua said, mostly to himself. Curse his brother. He placed a hand on the head of the couch, a sudden need for balance overtaking him.

"Killua Zoldyck," Magician said again, and it felt like being submerged in hot rocks. "I don't think you understand."

"Claws."

"What?"

"You will call me Claws. I am not a Zoldyck anymore," he snarled.

"Very well, Claws." He dragged out the name, as if to mock it. "Don't you find it ironic that you've joined the Hunters Association, right after you've killed their captain? Immediately too, nonetheless. Honestly, have you no shame?"

"What do you want?"

"Tell me, what was our ex-captain doing when you killed him in cold blood? Why the need to hide it?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Killua feels distant, like the room is starting to float away, and there's a cold fire burning in his throat.

"You didn't wipe away the spell in his room?"

"Didn't… I just poisoned him… and left." It's was difficult to talk. A cold sweat was breaking out on his skin.

Magician cupped a hand over his mouth, chin propped up on his thumb. He stared out of the window, then his eyes slid over to Killua, who was gasping for breath. The fire had traveled along his veins and into his lungs, and it burned to breathe.

"What… the ..fuck.." he managed.

"Veritaserum."

"What... " Killua gasped. There was no way that was true. Killua was immune to all magical serums. His parents made sure of that.

"A little concoction of my own, not too different from the one you used on countless others. Your brother loved this one." He leaned over the coffee table and took Killua's face in one hand, fingers digging into his cheeks.

"Claws, you really don't understand your predicament. You've killed the two most powerful people I know," his voice dripped with strange lust. "You owe me this."

"I…owe…you… jack shit!" he spat out the last word. Magician's finger nail dig into his skin and he feels the blood trail down his cheek, cold against his skin. Magician pulled his face closer to his, straining Killua's already painful neck and shoulders. Dots swam across his vision.

"You were right. I'm not giving you a choice. Listen here, you and I will be a spending a lot of time with each other from this point on. And when I ask you to do something, you will do it."

Killua wanted to ask "or what?" but all that came out was a strangled 'mmfh'.

Magician seemed to understand anyway.

"Can't you figure that out for yourself? If you don't comply, I'll simply reveal the truth. A lot of people looked up to Boar in the Association. Not even you can hold your own against a troupe of angry wizards. Your friends Fisher and Feathers are among those people. Do you think they'd be happy to hear that?"

Killua's heart drops like a rock inside him.

"I – ." His windpipe shut, and he was left struggling for oxygen. He was subtly aware of Magician releasing his grip on the face and he fell forward onto to the cold table-top. Magician may have said something, but he didn't hear it. His voice was swallowed by the music and Killua sank under.

A/N: I was hoping to get a few more chapters in before this inevitable hiatus, but as it is now, it must happen, so I won't be posting until mid-September. In the meanwhile, I'll replace my laptop and set up a proper writing schedule once I settle down in college life. After that updates should be swift and regular.