Chapter Fifteen: Into the Fire
Genevieve felt in a daze as she wandered over to the balcony of Draco's luxurious flat, gazing into the inky dark beyond. It was the first time that Draco had brought her back to London with him to meet his friends, and she knew she should feel happy. After all, she had what she wanted. She had Draco, and they were together and deliriously happy at last.
Gen had known for the first moment she laid eyes on Draco that she wanted him. Proper as she seemed, she had a reputation for devouring men, and Draco was just her dish. He was handsome and masculine and foreign and dangerous, and she could tell just by looking at him that, like her, he wasn't looking for anything serious. That had been perhaps her favourite part about him. Like Draco, Gen's parents had been far from wedded bliss, and she'd spent her whole childhood watching her beautiful mother cheat on her much-older father. She hated her mother for betraying her father, of course, but Gen had always equated her mother's cheating with her father's inane attempts to keep her happy and faithful. Eventually, her mother couldn't take it anymore and left, and it was from that heartache that Gen's distain for committed relationships was born. Her father had been wholly committed to her mother, and she'd still left. After the anguish of her abandonment, Gen decided that if love had to be pain, it was better to be the cause than the bearer.
As a consequence, she never allowed herself to get into something serious, and she left a trail of spurned lovers in her wake. Ironically, they all still chose to remain part of her life, as if hoping that someday she might change her way and finally settle down with them. In high school it had been her cousin Ashley. She gave him her virginity, but she gave him the slip when he began to urge her into something more serious. She'd always protested under the pretext that they were cousins, but that was a flimsy rouse for the truth. Ashley's paternity was the worst kept secret in Charleston. Everyone, even his father, knew he wasn't really a Benton, though no one really seemed to mind. Gen still slept with him when it suited—he was an attentive lover—but in the morning she would always tell him the same thing. 'It's just sex, sugar. Let's not make it more complicated than that.'
After Ashley had been Max Brankovitch, who'd she'd met on a rare weekend Boston. Their affair had been torrid but brief. Max could have been perfect for Gen, but in a fucked up way he reminded her of an older brother, and that was admittedly distracting. Of course, this realization didn't stop her from sleeping with him when he came to town whilst making him do all the errands she didn't feel like doing. Still, in time their desire for one another faded, and Max became one of the few genuine friends Gen had in the world. She'd sometimes wondered why Max was such a good friend to her, considering she'd used him for sex and free dinners while they'd been involved, but she was grateful for his friendship nonetheless. Besides, it was him who'd introduced her to Draco.
The last in line before she'd met Draco was Beau, who was admittedly all looks and no substance. Gen didn't care though. It really didn't matter to her that he was racist and often misogynistic; he had a delightfully filthy mind, and he'd done things to Gen that still made the blood rush to her stomach. She had never much cared for his company elsewhere, but behind closed doors he was almost animalistic in his passion, and that was intoxicating.
However, something had changed when she met Draco. He wasn't like all the others, and she recognized in him the same damaged child she often caught glimpses of in the mirror. Draco had never discussed his parents in any depth, but she could tell that like her, he knew how cruel parents could be. He kept that part of himself well-guarded, and that only served to draw her in. Though he was always tight-lipped about his past, she found it was easy to tell him hers, and before long she was spilling secrets to him that she'd never told anyone.
Besides that, their physical chemistry was something she'd never experienced before, and she felt complete when she was in his arms. Draco began making up excuses to come to South Carolina and see her, though neither of them wanted to admit to themselves that they were dating. That was until about six months into their relationship when Draco'd traveled down from a business trip in New York to spend the weekend in Charleston with Gen. She'd been waiting impatiently for him to arrive—the way she swore she'd never wait for any man—and when she saw him, she felt an elation bubbling up from her stomach and giving her heart buoyancy. So, she mused, this is love. In bed later that night, she'd blurted something she hadn't meant for Draco to hear.
"I love you."
Draco stiffened a little, though his arm remained twined around her.
"What?" he replied.
"You heard me," she said, feeling more confident now. "I love you, and I want to be your girlfriend."
Draco said nothing for a second, and she realized then he wouldn't, he couldn't, say it back. She understood that; she'd never said it before herself. Finally he spoke.
"I want that, too."
Their relationship had skyrocketed from there, and Gen grew more certain that she loved Draco every day, and up until tonight, she had been fairly sure that Draco felt the same. Perhaps she should have known that there was more to his story than he'd let on. After all, in the eight months since the night she said 'I love you', she'd only heard a handful of stories about his past. She'd met Blaise on several occasions, but tonight was the first time she'd actually seen Draco interact with all of his school friends. She was slowly realizing, with dismay, that perhaps she didn't know him as well as she'd thought. Hell, it was starting to feel like she didn't know him at all.
She'd never questioned why he had been single when they met. After all, she certainly had been. She supposed she'd arrogantly assumed that he just had discerning taste, and he'd been waiting for the right girl to come along before getting serious. He'd never mentioned his romantic past, and she'd stupidly never thought to ask. She thought before tonight he was an open book. Being among his friends for the first time, she realized he was just the opposite.
"Galleon for your thoughts," Draco murmured, sliding up behind her and skating his hands up the curve of her hips.
Gen tensed.
"What's up?" Draco asked, pushing her blonde hair aside so he could kiss her shoulder. "You seem wound up."
Gen knew she had to approach this carefully. She knew she had to be tactful and clever or she ran the risk of him shutting down. Still, it wasn't easy to do, and in the end she did the only thing she could to prevent a tidal wave. She turned to face him.
"Who's Leolin?" she asked, wishing her voice would stop quaking.
Draco's face fell.
"Where did you hear that name?" he asked coldly, though she couldn't tell if that was directed at her or the circumstance.
"Everyone was whispering it tonight," Gen said, tears welling in her eyes. "Everywhere I went I heard people saying it behind my back. Who is she, Draco?"
Draco drove his hands into his hair, groaning.
"She's no one, alright?"
"That's obviously not true!" Gen said in a desperate whine. "Please don't lie to me."
"Just forget it," he snapped.
"I have a right to know!" she said, starting to blubber a little. "I've told you everything."
Strictly speaking, that wasn't exactly true. She'd decided to leave out the bit about Ashley, especially because she'd been sleeping with while she and Draco were dating but before they were exclusive. Still, though, Gen felt her entitlement rising, and it made her indignant.
Still, he didn't respond, and this only made her cry harder.
"Draco—"
"Leolin is my ex-fianceé," he bit out, turning to look at her.
His eyes were burning.
"You were engaged?" she asked, crushed. She'd always assumed they'd been one another's first and only real love.
He nodded.
"How did you meet her?"
He clenched his jaw.
"We went to school together."
The pieces were beginning to fall together, and Gen bit her lip as more tears slipped out.
"Where is she now?"
He clenched his jaw again, clearly agitated.
"I don't know. She left the day of the wedding and no one has seen her since. I think she might be in Switzerland, but I don't know."
Gen shook her head.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"What does it matter?" Draco demanded. "It's over. She's gone."
"And what if she was to come back?" Gen wailed. "What then?"
"She's never coming back," Draco said bitterly.
"But what is she did?" Gen asked, her face a mess.
Draco looked at her earnestly.
"It wouldn't matter," he said in a solemn voice.
"Why not?" she asked dolefully.
He grit his teeth, as if what he was about to say was physically painful.
"Because," he said, advancing on her and tangling his hands in her hair as he stared at her intently. "I—damnit. Genevieve, I—love you."
Gen stood staring at the place on the map where Leolin's dot had disappeared, the blood draining out of her face. She felt like she was going to faint. Leolin's comm had gone dead ten minutes ago, but Leolin's desperate cries were still echoing in her ears.
The comms had been relatively quiet, different groups sporatically checking in. Overall, the mission seems to be going smoothly. At least, as smoothly as could be expected.
Suddenly, she'd heard Leolin's shriek
"Gen!" she screamed. She'd sounded desperately afraid. "Gen please!"
Gen's heart had stopped. Something had gone wrong with Audige, and without Harry, Leolin had been alone.
"Leolin!" she had replied.
"Gen!" Leolin had repeated. It had been distant, as if Leolin was far away from her device. Still, Gen could hear the sheer panic in Leolin's voice.
"Where are you?" Gen cried frantically, already fretting over Draco's reaction. "Tell me where you are! Are you with Audige?"
"It's Adrian," Leolin sobbed. She sounded like she was in pain, and Gen could here a male voice echoing as well. "Please, it's Adrian! Gen! Genevieve, please! Help me! Get Dr—"
CRACK!
Gen had cried out and clawed at her earpiece as a curse sizzled through the connection. She'd given another shriek of alarm as she looked down at the device, which lay smoking on the floor. She'd reached to pick it up, but it singed her fingers. It had been obliterated. Or rather, Leolin's earpiece had been, and the spell had traveled through the connection and burned Gen. She didn't even want to think what that meant for Leolin.
"Oh gods," Gen whispered desperately, biting her lip. Draco was going to be so angry. How would she ever explain this to him?
It had been fifteen minutes now, and she sat, still shaking.
She hadn't meant for this to happen. She hadn't meant to put Leolin in danger. She drove a hair into her hair as she fought off tears and searched for what to do. Her lips had begun to tremble furiously. Still, she had to consider what this might mean for her. With Leolin gone, she and Draco would finally be free. She would finally be able to stop looking over her shoulder and worrying about what he and Leolin might be doing together. She'd been consumed by fear since his trip to London, and that fear was starting to wear away at her. She longed to simply have Draco entirely back to herself, and this might be her chance.
On the other hand, if Leolin died, Draco would surely blame Gen. They would all think she'd done this on purpose. A choked sob welled up. She suddenly wished she'd been nicer to Leolin. She chewed her lip harder, tears tangling in her lower lashes. What if Draco refused to forgive her? He would, she told herself, he couldn't not. He did love her, she knew he did, and with Leolin gone he would need Gen more than ever.
She took a heaving breath. Was she really ready to let Leolin die? She considered, pulling her knees to her chest and tucking her head down. Could she really live with that? Another ten minutes went by, then twenty. Merlin, if she was going to say something to Draco, she had to do it soon. At this point, Leolin could be dead already. Still, she hesitated. It had been thirty minutes now. She tried not to imagine what Adrian was probably doing to Leolin now that he'd caught her, though it wasn't particularly hard to guess what it was. The thought made her shudder. She had to call. She couldn't let Leolin die, even if some part of her dark heart wished Leolin would. She reached for the communication device but her hand hesitated over it. Ten more minutes passed before she reached for it again. She had to say something, didn't she? Twenty more minutes. Leolin had been gone a full hour now. Gen had to call. Still, she couldn't seem to make herself—
Suddenly, all the dots on the board began to quiver, and like a candle being extinguished, they all disappeared at once. Gen began to grow fretful again. This couldn't bode well for Leolin.
"Gen?" a disembodied voice called from the earpiece. The connection was damaged and weak, but Gen could still hear Draco well enough.
She crawled over to the mangled device, which was now cool enough for her to touch. She picked it up, and odd mix of terror and relief flooding her body. Draco was hers now. He would understand. He would forgive her.
"Drake!" she said, beginning to sob outright.
The guilt was welling up now, like blood beneath a scab.
"What's going on over there?" Draco asked. "I lost Pucey on the map, but he's right on my tale. I'm flying blind."
Gen said nothing, trying to get her heaving sobs under control.
"Darling, are you alright?" Draco said with concern. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"
"Drake," she cried, her guilt welling up. "I'm s-s-sorry!"
"What are you sorry for?" he asked. "It's not your fault they've disappeared. I just need to know Pucey's last location. He could be on me at any second."
"No," Gen continued. "I'm so s-s-sorry. I tried to stop them!"
"Gen, you're scaring me," he said, his voice hardening with worry. "What's going on?"
"Leolin!" she sobbed. "She's g-g-g-gone. Someone obliterated her earpiece and t-t-t-tracker."
"And Potter?" Draco demanded.
"He's here," Gen admitted, her voice quaking. "I called him because Grace was sick-k-k-k. She's been terribly sick all morning. They're upstairs with the h-h-healer now."
Silence reigned.
"Drake," Gen sobbed. "I swear, I tried to help her. You have to believe me. I would never do that to her, to you. Never."
That, Gen assured herself, was true. She was just about to call Draco and tell him about Leolin. She wasn't actually going to let Leolin—
"Drake?"
More silence. He must have immediately relayed this information, because a minute later a furious Ginny apparated onto the porch, her eyes positively mad with grief as she made for Gen.
"You bitch," Ginny choked through the stricture in her throat. "You hideous, horrible bitch."
"Gin!" Pansy cried as Ginny drew her wand and hurled a curse at Gen.
It missed, but only by a milimetre. Despite Pansy's frantic protestations, Ginny advanced. She wasn't likely to miss again.
"Ginny, Merlin!" Pansy said, grabbing her friend's arm. "Stop!"
Ginny ignored Pansy as if she wasn't there. Her eyes were trained on Gen, who continued to back out of Ginny's range.
"It wasn't my fault, I swear," Gen said miserably.
"Bullshit," Ginny seethed, struggling against Pansy as tears welled in her eyes. "Just admit it, Genevieve: you saw your opportunity to get rid your competition and you couldn't bloody resist."
"No," Gen said, tears of her own streaking down her china doll cheeks. "That's not true. I admit hate Leolin, but I would never try to kill her!"
"How long?" Ginny snarled "How long did you wait before you called Drake? An hour? Two? I swear to fucking Merlin Genevieve, if any of those boys lay a finger on Leolin, I will kill you."
"She should have come back with Harry," Gen reasoned. "She shouldn't have gone out alone like that!"
"How dare you blame her!" Ginny sobbed, mad with grief and fury now. "Cru—"
"Ginevra, enough!"
Blaise and Tieran had arrived now, and Blaise had Ginny around the waist, hauling her backwards.
"Let me go!" Ginny said, pounding on his chest. "She turned Leolin over to Adrian!"
"Hey," Blaise said, grabbing her cheeks. "Listen to me. Draco will bring her back. You know he will."
This forced a lump to form in Gen's throat. She knew he was probably right, but it still stung. She wanted to see Leolin safely returned, of course she did, but she didn't want Draco to be the one to do it. She knew if he went after her, it would be the death knell for their love and the renaissance Draco and Leolin's.
She shook her head fiercely, searching the room for an ally even knowing she had none. Everyone was giving her stone-cold stares. There were two more pops, and Ieuan and Luke appeared. Ieuan looked almost as mad as Ginny, though he said nothing. She knew he'd never liked her.
Gen turned to Blaise, who was the only one who didn't openly despise her.
"It was just a terrible coincidence, I swear. Please Blaise, you have to believe me."
"I don't have to do anything," Blaise said hatefully, still cradling Ginny. "And Ginny's right. You don't know Adrian like we do. You have no idea how much danger you've put her in."
"I didn't mean to put her in danger! You can ask Harry!" Gen said. "Grace is sick. She needed him."
"Where is Harry?" Tieran demanded, his expression cold as well.
"Upstairs," Gen said shakily. "Grace needed a healer."
There was a final pop, and everyone turned to see Draco sweep into the room.
"Drake," Gen cried, never so relieved to see him. "Merlin!"
He gave her a look he'd never given her before. It was almost as if he was looking through her. She made to speak again, but he held up an imperious hand to demand she remain silent.
"Drake—" she stubbornly began again, but his diamond eyes had flitted to the latest newcomer.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, looking drawn. "I heard yelling."
Draco advanced quickly, punching Harry squarely in the jaw.
"You pathetic little cunt," he said with deadly venom. "How dare you."
"What the fuck!" Harry cried, massaging his jaw. "What are you on about?"
Draco grabbed him roughly by the collar.
"Leolin," Draco said in a deadly voice. "You just left her to go after Audige alone? Now Adrian has them both! I hope you're happy."
All the blood drained from Harry's face.
"You were supposed to have her back!" Draco said in disgust, shoving Harry with force. "You were supposed to look out for her for me!"
Harry's face grew resolute.
"Grace needed me here!" Harry said. "I'm not going to apologize for that."
"And what? You were somehow incapable of bringing Leolin with you? Tieran and I could have gone after Audige!"
"I tried!" Harry cried desperately. "I begged her to come back, but she refused. There is no dissuading her when she's made up her mind!"
"Then you force her to come! Hell, you imperius her if you have to!"
"That," Harry said hatefully, pointing an accusatory finger in Draco's direction. "Is why you were never good enough for her, Malfoy; you never could muster of the decency to give her the respect and credit she deserved."
"How dare you criticize my relationship with Leolin!" Draco roared, and Tieran had to step between them to keep Draco back. "She was my entire existence. Don't for one second pretend you understood my love for her."
Gen couldn't help bow her head at this. It felt like she was watching a train wreck she was utterly powerless to stop.
"Is that why she ran out on you?" Harry demanded. "Because you were just such a perfect mate?"
Draco lunged, and Gen stomped her foot.
"Stop!" she said. "Please! This isn't helping Leolin!"
Ieuan glared at her.
"Don't pretend you care about Leolin," he said coldly. "As per, you are worrying about you."
"Stop, all of you," Blaise commanded. "We're going after Leolin. Now."
"No, I'm going alone," Draco said.
"Like Hell you are," Tieran snapped. "We have to fan out and find her. Her and Audige both. We've wasted too much time already. Let's not waste any more."
Blaise nodded in agreement.
"Where do we start?
Leolin eyes fluttered open and she gave a low groan. There was a sharp and pulsing throb in her left temple, and it felt like someone had filled her head with spoiled pudding. She tried to raise her chin, but she was extremely groggy, and the movement caused the pain in her temple to intensify. She remembered Rawle's fist swinging down, and after that everything went black. The blow must have knocked her out. She also thought she might have also been dosed with some sort of mild poison. She felt lethargic, and her brain was moving slow. Her neck ached from the weight of her head as it hung forward against. From her current position, she could see thatno one had cared to give her any clothes after Adrian had torn hers off, and she was still shamefully half-naked. She tried to raise her head again, but when she heard voices floating from the corridor beyond, she decided to remain still and simply listen.
"Any sign of Malfoy yet?" Dolohov said in a throaty growl.
"No," Scabior replied. "Pucey's still out hunting for him. He and Potter both."
"Bet he can't wait to come back and play with his new toys," Dolohov said.
Scabior gave a nasally laugh.
"Do you mean Lefevre or Audige?
Dolohov laughed,too.
"Both. Have you seen Lefevre? He stripped her down to her sodding knickers."
"I don't know why he bothers," Scabior said. "She's about one tenth as fit has he thinks she is."
"Yeah, but she's Malfoy's little plaything. I don't think Pucey can resist watching Malfoy go mad over all this."
"I guess," Scabior replied. "Though I'd just as soon have Malfoy's American. She has these firm, perky little tits I just want to bite."
"Maybe someday you will."
"What's going on with Audige?"
"He's still out. As soon as Pucey get's back, we're going to make him sing."
"But he's only half the solution," Scabior point out. "Maybe if Flint would pull his bloody weight we'd be farther along."
"Once we get Audige to spill, finding them will be easy."
Them? Leolin mused Did that mean they were looking for more than one vessel?
"I hope you're right," Scabior said.
"I am," Dolohov said in a rough voice. "Now what are we going to do with the girl?"
"I'll watch her until Adrian gets here," Scabior said flippantly.
"Keep a close eye on her," Dolohov demanded.
Scabior laughed.
"I can handle one silly bint," Scabior said, sounding a little insulted. "And besides, I know where Tate hit her. She's going to be weak when she does wake up."
"Fine," Dolohov said. "Just don't underestimate her."
"She's barefoot in knickers," Scabior sneered. "How dangerous can she be?"
Leolin listened as Dolohov's footsteps retreated, and she remained still as Scabior slipped into the room. Her mind was already sharpening, aided in large part by the oxygen rushing to her brain. She had no intention of sitting around and waiting for Harry or Draco to rescue her. Besides, she had no guarantee that Gen would pass on her message. For all she knew, Gen was the only one who was even aware she was missing. Either way, she had to figure out a way out of this on her own.
Adrian had obliterated her communication device, and the last she knew, Tate Rawle had he wand. What else did she have to defend herself with? She remembered the stiletto. She tipped her head back slightly. She could still feel it nestled among her dark hair.
How could she get it? She considered her options. There was really only one way, and it made her heart sink. Why couldn't anything ever be easy? First she would have to devise a way to get Scabior out of the room. After that, she would have to wandlessly summon the knife to her palm. From there, she would be able to cut the rope around her wrists, though that wouldn't be easy either. She was just lucky she was dealing with Scabior and not a more formidable wizard. Someone like Rawle would likely have bound her wrists with more than just Muggle rope.
Leolin's mind raced ahead. After she cut the rope—she didn't even want to think about what she might have to do after.
She heard the sharp clap of Scabior's boots on the stone floor as he approached her, and she kept her head bent. She would need to bide her time and keep him from getting suspicious if she wanted even a prayer of getting out before Adrian arrived.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Scabior mewed, crouching down and lifting her chin with his finger so he could look her in the eye. Her wand was tucked in his front pocket.
The sharp movement made her hiss in pain, and he only laughed. He looked a great deal like his father, whom Leolin had encountered only briefly in the Battle of Hogwarts. Nic had his father's lanky build and dark, beady eyes, though there was an intelligence in his that his father's had lacked.
"Malfoy's going to be mad Tate roughed your face up," Scabior said, giving a mock pout. "So is Adrian. I'm not bothered, though. You're really ent my type."
She only sneered in response. Scabior continued.
"Adrian is always going on about you, but I dunno, you're rather plain, ent you? I'd take Malfoy's yank over you any day."
"Why's that?" Leolin croaked, her throat dry. She had to keep him talking until she could find a way to get him out of the room.
"Because you're just a cold English bitch," Scabior smiled. "And I've had plenty of those in my day."
"Draco would kill you for even trying," she said in reference to Gen.
"Would he?" Scabior sneered. "I was under the impression that you'd rather usurped his affection."
Leolin gave a grim smile.
"Why don't you do me a favour and tell Jaime Quinn he doesn't know what he's on about," she said with derision. "There's nothing between me and Malfoy anymore."
"Adrian'll be happy to hear it. He's not really one for sharing his toys."
"Fuck off," she demanded, feeling sick.
Talking about this reminded her of Lucius and Cristian had done to her, and it made her feel cheap and used.
"You do have a decent body," Scabior continued, cocking his head to the side and examining her. "I will give you that."
Her ankles had been tied to the legs of the chair, leaving her legs partially spread. Her cheeks flamed in humiliation when she saw where he was looking .
"It's a shame you're wearing them knickers, though," he added casually. "I bet your cunt is a lovely shade of pink."
"You're a pig," she spit, trying to remain calm. She couldn't let him keep getting under her skin.
"Oh relax," Scabior said in a mild voice. "I ent going to bloody touch you. It's Beauchene I'm after, I already told you"
"Over Draco's dead body," Leolin bit out.
"All in good time," Scabior replied.
Something about the way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made her blood run cold. She supposed that some part of her had always known that Lucius planned to have Draco killed when the time was right, but it was still chilling to hear the words spoke aloud. Scabior did not fail to see her concern, and he smirked.
"That's touching," he said, sick grin widening. "It really kills you to think about Adrian slitting his throat, doesn't it?"
"If Pucey really thinks he can kill Draco, he's more than welcome to try," she snapped. "He'll never succeed."
Scabior shook his head, though.
"You're wrong about that," he said with confidence.
"Pride goeth before the fall, Scabior."
"Tell that to Pucey," Scabior said casually.
"I mean to," she said.
"He'll be thrilled," Scabior said, a sick glimmer in his eye.
Leolin rolled her shoulders in irritation, which caused a sharp ache to radiate down her back. Her strength was slowly returning, but she gave no physical evidence of the fact. She had to bide her time and wait until she was ready to start conjuring. If she played her hand too early, she could miss her only chance at freedom. She had to get the timing right. If she was still here when Adrian arrived, her race would be run. She knew Adrian; the first thing he'd do was spoil Leolin, knowing Draco would be driven mad by the idea of Adrian between her thighs. Just the notion of such sexual humiliation made her throat ache.
"Why does Adrian even want me so much?" Leolin asked, trying vainly to keep Scabior talking.
He shrugged.
"He's the new Lucius, I suppose. Guess he wants to live in his footsteps."
Leolin flushed involuntary, which produced a toothy grin on Scabior's face.
"Oh, you thought no one knew?" The grin widened. "Ent you naïve! The only person that doesn't know about your little romp with the minister is your poor, stupid boyfriend Draco."
She grit her teeth and he laughed.
"It's sorta funny, if you think about it. The last Malfoy to fuck you was Lucius."
Leolin sneered, longing for the knife. Scabior, who was delighted by her reactions, continued.
"Maybe you two will have a repeat performance when—"
He stopped abruptly. She perked up, sensing he was about to spill something important, and immediately he shut up, though he sought to cover up his blunder with another sinister grin.
"Oh you mean if you actually succeed in your miserable plot to bring Tom Riddle back?" she asked, unable to mask some of her old fire. "That's seems terribly unlikely, don't you think?"
There was a flash in her eyes that confirmed she was right. It was a small victory, and it left her feeling a bit shaky, but at least now she was sure of the truth. She decided to test her luck.
"If only Adrian could summon Jean du Bones," she said in mock wistfulness.
"We have Audige now," Scabior reminded her.
"And how long will that last, I wonder," she goaded. "They don't call 'King of the Quarter' for nothing, Nic."
"If he's so high and mighty, why did it only take us less than a minute to take him down?"
"Yes, eight against one. What a brave bunch you lot are. How's your little friend Torrii?"
"Shut your whore mouth, Lefevre."
"Did I strike a nerve? I thought she was Adrian's plaything, not yours."
He responded was a hard blow across the face. She was going to have one hell of a bruise.
"So," she said. "What are you going to do when you bleed Audige dry and find out that Bones is a ghost story for children? Can't imagine the minister is going to be to thrilled with that. But then, that's your humiliation to bear, not mine."
He gave a self-satisfied smirk.
"You and I both know that ent true. Bones is real, and Audige is going to be the one to summon him for us."
This was good, Leolin thought. She hadn't expected to get this much out of him. It would be useful if she ever got out of here.
"Still though," Leolin said, fighting off another wave of nausea. "Audige is only half of the puzzle, isn't he? You still need whatever Marcus Flint was looking for in Greece."
"I dunno what you're talking about," Scabior said, trying to act casual.
"No," Leolin said, smiling a little. "I'm sure you don't."
He decided to change tactics. Instead of responding, he slapped her across the face, and the sharp head turn made her dizzy.
"Didn't mummy ever tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?" Scabior demanded.
"What is it you're looking for?" she asked. "I know there are more than one."
He scowled nastily.
"Shut up, you slag."
"If only Draco's stepfather knew where Herpo's vessels were," Leolin said, "Then you lot would really be in business."
Scabior's smile widened at something she said, and it was admittedly unnerving.
"Herpo's vessel is a myth," Scabior said. "And there is only one of them anyways."
"It is a myth," Leolin conceded. "Who knows what the truth is? You lot certainly don't. You can tell Adrian I said that."
Scabior continued to smile his knowing smile. Was he bluffing, or was she wrong about something? Her gut told her it was the former.
"It's fascinating, you know," he commented, trying to steer her in another direction. She decided to play along.
"What is?"
"Watching your mind work. You're wrong about everything, of course, but it's still amusing to watch you try."
"In that case, riddle me this: if you aren't looking for the vessel, what are you doing stealing lekythii and loutrophori?"
"What the bleeding hell is a loutrophoros?" he said evenly, still smirking.
"You know," she said. "For a stupid man, you certainly don't play stupid very well. You know damn well what a loutrophoros is. In fact, I'm willing to bet you were the one helping Flint knick them. You are the sort that would push over priceless statuary just because you could."
"You one to talk, Genie," he said, trying again to avoid her probes. "You're a renowned criminal, ent you?"
"You're avoiding the question again," Leolin pointed out. She had him right where she wanted him. He was guaranteed to react in one of two ways. Either he would lose control and reveal something he wasn't supposed to, or he would get frustrated and leave. Either way, she gained something she wanted.
"Well?" she repeated.
"You want to know why we're in New Orleans?" Scabior asked, rising out of his chair. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, and she turned her head away in disgust.
"To catch Audige," she said.
"It's not just that. We're here because you lot are," he murmured. "You dunno it yet, Lefevre, but you lot are like rats in a maze. You might feel free, but I promise you that there ent a place on this earth that you lot can go that Lucius doesn't have a finger on you."
"Is that so?"
He looked triumphant.
"I only wish you'd picked a better spot," he said. "I'm bloody sick of this weather."
She said nothing and he looked satisfied, though she could tell she'd riled him up. He rose away from her, making for the door.
"Well, I'd love to stay in here and chat, love, but I unfortunately have duties."
"I bet," she replied, her old fire now at almost half force again. "Herpo's vessels aren't going to steal themselves."
He was growing agitated.
"You best hold your tongue, Lefevre," he demanded, turning his back.
"Or what?" she croaked.
He whirled around, eyes no longer playful.
"Or I'll cut it off and shove it up your twat," he sneered.
"If I find the vessel first," she goaded. "What will you give me for it?"
He gave a grim smile.
"Find it and I'll let you know. Or is it them? Now sit tight and wait for me, will you?"
With that he turned around again, passing through the door and slamming it shut behind him. For a second she thought he might forget to lock it, and her heart leapt. However, she heard the telltale click a few seconds later, and she gave a disappointed exhale. She was hoping she could simply slip out unnoticed. Instead, she would have to wait for him to come back, and be ready for him when he did.
She took another deep breath, trying to clear her mind. However, it was harder that it seemed. Her thoughts were a buzzing, chaotic jumble. It was hard to focus through the pain in her temple, which had bled down into her cheek and jaw, and she still felt woozy and nauseous. Worse still was the internal pressure. She knew she didn't have long—minutes at most—and she didn't want to waste time.
She closed her eyes, trying visualize what was going on inside her mind. It was a windstorm of thoughts and fears, and the cacophony and mess made it impossible for her to perform the sort of magic necessary. She needed to sort through the madness, to cut through all the bullshit so she could access her strength of mind.
She began sorting through things, trying to put them in categories. Scabior first. What had she learned from him? What could she be sure he'd confirmed? They were trying to resurrect the Dark Lord, and Adrian was going after Bones to help him do it. That she already knew, but every reassurance was helpful. Herpo's Vessel. They were looking for Herpo's Vessel. Wait, was she sure of that? Somehow that part still bothered her. If they sought the vessel, what did they need Bones for? Could it only be wielded by a Necromancer? Or were they simply trying to cover all their bases, to seek the vessel and Bones in the event that one was a myth?
She wasn't sure, but she filed this piece of information away regardless. It would be useful to her soon, she was sure. What else did she know? Lucius meant to kill Draco. Her heartbeat throbbed at his, sending an unpleasant pulsation of pain to her temple and down her jaw.
When? Probably not until the dark lord returned. At least not until Lucius had consolidated his power base. As much control as he had amassed as minister, Leolin knew it was a house of cards, poised to crumble at the slightest disturbance. Lucius wouldn't strike at Draco until he knew he could succeed. She was aware of her throbbing heartbeat again. As soon as Lucius found Bones, Draco's time would be up.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't think about that now; that was a fear best fretted over at a different time. Reluctantly, she set that realization aside as well, putting it in a safe like Draco had taught her and locking it away.
As she did, she could feel a wave of relieve showering over her, and the stricture in her chest loosened as she took another deep breath. She ignored the itching curiousity to look inside the vault she'd just locked, pushing the sensation to the back of her mind instead. She made sure not to go too far back, though. She didn't want to forget it was there. When she got out of this, she needed to remember the stakes; nothing motivated Leolin quite like her love for Draco.
The sorting process had calmed her considerably, and the clutter of her constructed mindspace was already lessening. She took another deep breath. She was ready to begin. She closed her eyes, imagining the gleaming stiletto wound in her dark hair. The instrument was fine Spanish silver, and the handle had been inlaid with exquisite gold filigree. The undulating shape of the blade was based on the Indonesian Kris knife, and it too had been beautifully embossed. The smith who'd fashioned it had designed the instrument to look like a snake, an illusion that was enhanced by the two emeralds that had been inlaid into the hilt to look like gleaming eyes.
Leolin imagined running her thumb over the emeralds, just as she had many times before. She imagined the weight of the instrument: pleasingly heavy but still graceful. She'd never used it, of course, but it cut through the air quickly when swung. Severina, who'd given Leolin the stiletto as a gift, had assured her that it cut through flesh just as easily. This thought made Leolin's head pound uncomfortably again, and the throbbing pain erased the dagger from her mind's eye.
"Damn," she swore quietly, trying to begin again as quickly as possible. Her demons were knocking again, and it was hard to stay focused long enough to imagine the blade.
She kept picturing Gen's face, and hearing her voice on the other end of the receiver as Leolin cried to her for help. Had she told anyone Leolin was missing? Before she could stop herself, Leolin imagined Gen lying in Draco's arms, her eyes screwed up and her head thrown back in pleasure. It was difficult to remain properly motivated when she remembered where Draco's love currently lay. Would he try and come for her even if Gen did tell him?
Leolin tried to banish the thought, but it was difficult. She could hear footsteps echoing down the hall again, and she imagined Scabior coming back.
"Go away!" she hissed at the image of Gen, trying to focus.
The tread was closer now. It was definitely Scabior. Leolin pictured the blade, though she could only ever see it for a moment or two before Gen's face reappeared.
She doesn't change anything between us, Leolin could hear Draco saying to Gen. She means nothing to me now.
"Damnit," Leolin pleaded with herself, trying to summon the blade to her palm.
Scabior was thirty seconds from the door, tops. She was sweating from the stress of it all, and she tried to picture herself holding the knife. Gen was still there, though, still clinging to Draco. Jesus, Scabior was just outside the door; Leolin could hear him drawing his wand.
She was beyond desperate, knowing that if she couldn't do it now, she would never have another chance. The next time Scabior returned and unlocked the door, he'd surely have Adrian with him.
"Ready or not, princess," Scabior called.
Frantic, Leolin squeezed her eyes shut, imagining herself with the knife again. She could see herself now, just as clearly as if she was looking in a mirror. However, before Leolin could utter the words, Gen appeared again, her smile cruel.
Your loss is my gain, sugar.
Leolin could feel the image of herself melting into the shadow of Gen's towering presence, and in desperation, she did the only thing she could think of; she drove the imaginary blade directly into Gen's heart, causing the latter to shriek. Accio! She thought savagely as Gen's blood flowed over her hands.
The knife dropped into her palm just as Scabior swung the door in.
"Miss me?" he asked, kicking the door closed with a heavy combat boot. He'd been wearing a dark trenchcoat, and he threw it over the chair before rolling up her chair. She bit her lip, silently slipping the blade along the rope and beginning to cut. He was acting the way people did when they were gearing up for a fist fight. It was as if he didn't want to get blood on his nice coat.
"More than you know," Leolin croaked, her heart hammering in her chest.
She doggedly kept sawing. The hemp wasn't overly thick, but the position of her wrists made cutting awkward. It would probably take her a full minute to free her hands. Based on the quizzical scowl Scabior was giving her, she doubted she had that long.
"Oy," he said, frowning at her. "What you done to your hair?"
"Sorry?" she replied, trying to remain as calm as possible.
"It were up, last time I was here. Now it's down."
"What are you talking about?" Leolin repeated stupidly.
She'd worked her right hand free, and making it easier to cut the rope. Still, Scabior began advancing.
"Don't be stupid with me, girl," Scabior snarled. "How'd you get your hair down?"
"I haven't touched it! You're mad!" she said.
"Don't lie to me, you bitch! How'd you do that without a wand?"
"If I could do magic in here," she reasoned, "Why would I waste time on a charm to let down my hair?" Leolin said, breathless with fear. Her left hand was nearly free.
"You tell me," Scabior said reaching her at last.
He slapped her just as she cut through the last of the rope. She nearly dropped the knife from the force of the blow, but managed to hold on. Shaking now, she transferred the stiletto to her right hand. She was left-handed usually, but if she wanted a clear shot at his main artery, she would need to be flexible. She thought about what Severina had said about the knife and tightened her grip.
"Well?" Scabior demanded, cocking his head to the side as he got up in her face.
She could practically see the blood pumping along his carotid. She wondered if flesh was a yielding as people said.
"Answer me!"
"Because of this," she rasped, grabbing him by the collar of his pinstriped shirt with her left hand and jerking his head sideways. Closing her eyes, she raised the knife and jammed it into his neck.
He gave a horrid, wet screech as she was sprayed with his blood. It was in her hair and eyes, dripping down her cheeks and into her mouth. She couldn't help the scream which had torn from her throat, and she screamed again as she watched him crumple, his eyes glassy and empty.
She shook violently as she looked down at his corpse, which was still gushing blood onto the floor. Leolin had never really considered the smell of blood before, but now that Scabior had shed five pints, it filled the room. It was metallic yet oddly cloying, and Leolin gagged.
Salazar Slytherin, what had she done? She couldn't stop looking at Scabior's body, a new swell of panic cresting every time she did. She'd never killed someone before. Even in the Battle of Hogwarts, she hadn't killed anyone. Hell, she'd only been fifteen; she'd barely been part of the bloodshed at all.
Now she'd killed someone. She looked at Scabior again, trying to remember that he was vile and he would have done the same to her, or worse. That didn't suppress the panic. Leolin knew she needed to go, and now, but she was remained rooted to the chair, baptized in Scabior's blood. Merlin, what had she done?
She squeezed her crimson-stained lids shut. She could only afford to let the fear in for ten seconds. She would allow herself to panic for ten seconds, and when the time was up, she had to move.
One.
She felt her hands quaking as she wiped the blood her face.
Two.
She blinked several adrenaline-fueled tears out of her lower lashes, and she could feel them running down her cheeks.
Three. Four. Five. Six.
She looked down at Scabior again, watching the blood as it oozed out in an obsidian pool beneath his head, like a dark halo of sorts.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
She closed her eyes; she was a murderer now. She would never be able to undo that fact.
Ten.
She opened her eyes again, forcing herself to look at Scabior a last time. Her wand was still peeping out of his pocket, and she grabbed it and pointed it at her feet, freeing her binds.
She rose to find she was unsteady on her feet, and she waivered a little as she fought to remain upright. Her head was pounding again, and she felt nauseous. She still had Scabior's hot blood in her mouth. She spat, leaving a small puddle of red on the grey slate floor.
Still shaking slightly, she stepped over Scabior's corpse, bending to retrieve his wand and her knife, which had clattered to the floor after she'd stabbed him. Blood had seeped into all the microfine lines of the engraved blade. She doubted she'd ever be away to get it all out. She drew the broad side of the knife across her thigh, laundering some of the excess carnage. She might have to use it again.
Finally seeming to realize herself, she looked down at herself, her bare skin covered in Scabior's blood. Suddenly she couldn't bare to be in her knickers and bare feet one second longer. She threw Scabior's forgotten coat over her shoulders, grateful it wasn't covered in blood. She then looked down at him, biting her lip. She did't really have a choice. If she wanted shoes, she was going to have to take them off his corpe. She bent down, trembling as she yanked one off. She thought for a moment about taking his socks as well, but the though of touching his quickly greying flesh was too much. She wrenched the second boot off and slipped them on her feet. They were naturally too big, but she quickly used a spell to shrink them.
The coat smelled like Scabior's noxious pomade, and she tried not to inhale the scent too deeply; it made her manic. Finally she took a deep breath, brushing her matted hair back before tucking her own wand into the coat's left pocket before raising Scabior's wand. Hers wouldn't do for opening the door.
"Alohamora," she whispered, and she heard the lock click.
Stealing one last glance back at Scabior's form, she silently slipped from the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her. She felt additional wetness on her cheeks, and she raised her hand cautiously to her face. They were involuntary tears, inspiring mostly by the horror she'd just ingested. Hurriedly, she wiped them away.
She cautiously started out down the corridor, trying to remember how she'd gotten in. It felt like so long ago, and with her pounding headache, everything in the past day felt fuzzy. She thought it might be left, and started off.
However, she heard voices after several seconds, and she hurriedly ran right, rounding the corner and laying flat again the stones. There were two figures approaching from the left. She dared not look, but she thought she recognized voices. One, she was sure, was Micky Travers. The other sounded like Will Rosier, but she couldn't be sure.
"Where is she now?" Rosier was asking, they were walking slowly, but Leolin bit her lip. They were headed her way, and she didn't have more than ninety seconds until they were where she was. Behind her was a dead end.
"In here," Travers said. "Adrian was about to piss himself when he caught her with Audige. He has such a stupid weakness for her."
"I don't know why," Rosier said. "I think she's bloody average at best."
"So do I," Travers agreed. "Her tits are too big for her frame, and she always has this arrogant little look on her face. It makes me want to knock her teeth out."
How could Leolin take them both out without raising an alarm? Merlin, how could she take them both out without getting recaptured? She had no idea. She gripped her wand and tried to think.
"What Adrian like about her some much, then?"
"They never liked each other, even in school. Now I think he gets his rocks off thinking about how crazy it would drive Malfoy."
"Has Malfoy shown up yet?" Rosier asked.
They were closer now, having already passed her cell door. They must have been on a patrol, which meant they would definitely find her. Merlin, they would be so angry when they found out that Scabior was dead.
"Not yet. Pucey's out hunting for him now. Give him time, though. He'll be here one way or another. Adrian will either nab him or he'll double back for Lefevre."
Suddenly, Leolin felt someone behind her, but before she could scream, they put a hand over her mouth.
"It's me," a voice breathed in her ear, and Leolin sagged against Draco, relieved. He wrapped a protective arm around her stomach and pulled her flush against him. Around the corner, the voices continued.
"What makes you so sure Malfoy's coming? If I were him, I would go snooping in Adrian's affairs, even for a juicy twat like Lefevre's," Rosier pointed out.
"Stun on three," Draco whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"Oh, Lefevre knows her business well enough."
"One."
"And Pucey's is confident she has him back on the hook again."
"Two."
"That's right where we want him."
"Three."
Draco released Leolin and they both leaned out enough to cast their charms. The others crumpled at once. Leolin immediately sprang out, snatching their wands before taking their memories. When it was done she turned to look at Draco, who was watching her with bright eyes.
"How did you—" she began numbly, but he cut her off by pushing her against the wall and kissing her fiercely.
His hands tangled in her hair as his tongue ravaged her mouth. Despite what she'd endured, Leolin felt a relief flooding her senses, and she melted into his form, gripping his collars and bowing her back so her body was glued against his. Finally, they ran out of breath, and Draco relinquished, dropping his forehead to hers.
"Leolin," he breathed reverently, stroking her hair. "You were supposed to be careful. Why can you never just do as you're bloody told?
She responded by curled against his strong chest, her eyes slipping closed.
"You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were—" he began, and she nodded.
"I know," she croaked, leaning back to look at him.
He bent to kiss her softly again, first on the lips, then the cheeks, jaws, and eyelids.
"What happened to you?" he breathed, taking in Scabior's coat and worn boots before drinking in the bra and knickers beneath. "Are you alright?" he asked, examining the ugly bruise at her temple before cupping her cheek and bending so he could look her in the eye. "Whose blood is this?"
"It's not mine," she murmured, and she realizing she was shaking a bit again. "Nic Scabior is dead," she finished after a moment.
She looked up at him, allowing her expression to convey the fear and sorrow of what she's done.
"Come here," he breathed, pulling her against him again. "It's alright. You did what you had to."
"Have you ever killed someone before?" she whispered.
"Yes," he replied softly.
"Does this feeling ever go away?" she asked.
He considered a moment.
"You learn to live with it."
She nodded, and he bent to kiss her gently again.
"What about Audige?" she asked suddenly.
"He's safe. Blaise and Tieran already got him. What happened to your clothes?"
"Adrian," she admitted softly, feeling ashamed. "I was at Audige's court when that lot showed up. He just couldn't resist this golden opportunity to humiliate me. He told me I should be grateful he didn't strip me naked."
Draco looked furious.
"I'm going to rip that bastard's beating heart out of his sodding chest."
"Please," she said in a quiet voice. "I don't want to talk about him right now."
He nodded, warm hands finding her trim waist as he bent to kiss her again.
"Audige," she repeated when they finally pulled away again. "Bones is his master. He's the one, the only one, that knows how to summon him."
"I know," Draco said. "And we already have him somewhere Adrian will never find him."
"Then we did it," she breathed in a daze.
He nodded, a smile ghosting his lips.
"Because of you. Leolin," he breathed, kissing her neck as he pulled her closer. "You never cease to amaze me."
She stood on tip-toes, threading her hands through his silky hair and kissing him again. He slid his tongue into her mouth as his strong hands bled to her arse, pushing her closer. He dropped his forehead to hers.
"We have to go," he breathed.
He pulled away, tugging her hand. However, she didn't follow.
"Drake, wait," she insisted. "What now?"
"With Audige?" he said grimly. "We convince him to tell us the secret then we destroy whatever it is Adrian's looking for."
He tugged again and she resisted, shaking her head.
"No," she said. "With me and you. With you and Gen."
Draco gave her a sobering look.
"Drake please," she said. "I need to know. Are you going to break it off with her?"
"Leolin," he said, growing more agitated. "We don't have time for this. I didn't come all the way over her to watch you die in the corridor."
"I need to know," she said softly. "Does this mean..."
She trailed off, unable to say the words. He gave her a sparkling look.
"Leolin, I—"
Just then, Leolin's eye caught a flash of movement over Draco's shoulder. Dolohov was creeping up behind Draco, his wand raised. Leolin had only a second to react. She grabbed Draco's shirt roughly and jerked him to the left.
"Drake, behind you!"
"Sectumsempra!"
"Avada Kadavra!"
Dolohov slumped to the floor, dead.
Draco's keep his wand trained on Dolohov to ensure he wasn't breathing. When he had confirmation, his head whirled to Leolin, brow furrowed.
"You alright?"
"Fine," she replied.
She suddenly realized Scabior's coat was wet, and quizzically she touched the growing stain. What was that? She raised her sodden palm to the level of her eyes, and when she saw it was crimson, she grew unsteady on her feet. Draco saw it, too. They met gazes, and his eyes were wild with panic.
"Drake," she said numbly as an exquisite pain bloomed across her abdomen. "I think I—"
Her feet would no longer support her, and he caught her just before her head slammed against the slate floor. He flicked open his floo.
"Blaise!" he cried.
"What's happening to me?" she asked.
"It's—" Draco's voice was tight. "Just hold on, okay? You're going to be all right. "
"Draco?" Blaise's voice was floating disembodied from the floo. "We're on our way to you now. Is Leolin with you?"
"I'm bleeding," she said weakly.
"I know," Draco said, trying to hide his panic. "But it's going to be okay, I promise."
He put a hand over the wound, and she cried out in pain.
"Blaise!" Draco said, voice quaking a little. "Hurry up! Leolin's—Leolin needs a healer."
Leolin's head had already grown heavy. She knew she was bleeding out. She looked up at Draco. He knew it, too.
"Drake," she said, reaching a hand to touch his cheek. "I—"
"No," he said firmly. "No grand declarations. That's what people who are dying do. You're not dying, so just shut up. It's—it's going to be fine. I'm here with you, and everything is going to be fine. You'll see."
"Drake," she repeated, insistent despite her exhaustion. "You should know why I left."
"It doesn't matter right now," Draco said, cradling her face with one hand as he put pressure on the wound with the other. She was too weak to do it anymore. "It can wait."
"No, it can't," she said. "If I die—"
"That's easy, then," Draco said. "Don't die."
Leolin closed her eyes and licked her lips. The pain was dragging her under, and she'd lost too much blood. She could feel herself flitting in and out of consciousness.
"You know that I love you, right?" she croaked, letting her hand fall away from his cheek. "I never stopped."
He said nothing, only clenched his jaw. Leolin had only seen Draco cry once before, but she knew he was fighting not to cry now. That made her throat tight as well. She didn't want to die, either.
"Yes," he said at last. "I know that."
She nodded and closed her eyes.
"Good."
"Leolin!" he said insistently, holding her a little closer. "You can't fall asleep. You have to stay with me."
"I'll try," she murmured, forcing her leaden lashes up so she could look at him.
"No try," he demanded, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek, cutting through the grimy mess her bloody handprint had left. "Promise me."
"No try," she repeated, even as her vision began to blur around the edges. "I…promise…"
"Cal," he said, but he sounded far away. "Callie, please. Hang in there. Stay with me."
Leolin could no longer keep her eyes open, though she could still hear Draco.
"Lai," he said, voice cracking. "Leolin, I'm begging you. Don't go. Please, don't go. Don't leave me. Not now."
Leolin wanted to speak, to open her eyes, to kiss him, but she was falling away at last.
She could hear shuffling feet now, and six or so others voices.
"What happened?" Blaise was saying.
"Get Snape!" Draco cried. "Someone get me Snape! And help me get her up!"
Leolin felt the final bits of her conscious mind crumbling, and the last thing she remembered were Draco's lips gently again her own.
"I...love...you..."