In Pieces

by Suzue0Shayana

A shattered story about a woman who had lost something important during every part of her life. Will she be able to collect her missing 'pieces? 'Dialogues as sharp as thongs hurting your butt and as incisive as a bitchslap. Reflections as brilliant as a Vegas neon. Cliffhangers as violent as truck drifts' - at least Zhalia says so, you'll check it yourself!

17. Chapter 17: Tomb Raider

Hi guys!

Yeah, you probably think 'What's up with that casual greeting? She left us for THREE WEEKS, damn it!' I know I've been away for too long. I'm terribly sorry, but that's the way it turns out when exams start... You know, it's my first university exam session and I'm FREAKINGLY PANICKING! This week will be a disaster for me. I had just two exams last week, and now I will have 5. FIVE EXAMS! Two on Monday and one on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. The whole week of FEAR! I had a lot things to refreshen before taking them, so that's why my writing had to me moved onto the second place for a while.

I know it's a lame excuse, but it's true. So, please, don't blame for such a long wait. I did my best to finally finish this chapter. I was writing it during the breaks in studying or in the evenings when I wanted to relax. However, the days of stuffing myself with Japanese made me too tired to be very original. I'm not sure this chapter came out the way I intended it to. I may re-write the end if you won't like it... but I hope you will. It would really raise my spirit before the tests. I'm not trying to play on your emotions, thought. Speak the truth. If you don't like how I introduced Ryder, then throw it at my face. No mercy. I deserve it for neglecting the story for so long.

Reviews, emerge!

- Joey8: Praise you for letting Dante and Zhalia have some earlier crushes! I've always thought that they didn't live their lives in celibate. I can't imagine Dante being a virgin. A grown-up, healthy, handsome and popular guy like him?! Also, he was raised by Metz, who was quite a lady-killer... Of course I'm not against guys who wait for that one in a milion to have their first time with. But come on, there's not many people like them. Zhalia is a typical femme fatale for me. I don't want her to be a bitter girl who knows no love, blah blah, as she is portrayed in the show. I'll at least let her taste physical love. Emotional... let's leave it for now.
I'm not completely sure if I agree with your view on the Deathcom thing. I've never seen it that way. But it's not like I deny it. Maybe I just gave it a skip.
Thank you for the messages you sent me! They really gave me a kick to get back to work! May the muse of writers bless you!
- Jess: Scarlet is not my favourite character either (you will see it also in this chapter), but she is important to the plot and causes a lot of twists. I mean things like making Zhalia jealous, flirting with Dante and letting him show his disinterest in her... and a lot of misunderstandings. And more are coming this and the next chapter...
- Kimberly: I'm sorry I won't show how Dante will react to know that Zhalia has an admirer. Not yet, huh. Soon, very soon. It will have its time in the story. For now, Ryder appears to him as a mere Organization agent :D Poor, naive Dante...
This chapter isn't quite the way "Chasing the Butterfly" was, however... I hope you will like it, as there are hints of Dante's affection towards Zhalia and her faltering as well.
Don't worry! C is not a bad grade. At least you passed, right? I wish I could get a C counterpart on university from History! It's a nightmare for me. Wish me luck!
- Allytsuki: Thank you, new Reader, for favoriting my story :) Let me know what you think about it, OK? I'm waiting for your opinions.

And it concerns all of you, Readers!

Enjoy Ryder's entry and best wishes!

Sha

P.S. A 'gorb', a word Mrs. Lambert uses, means a glutton in Irish. I found it in the Internet, so I'm not sure if it's correct. But it seems fine :)
P.S. 2 Due to Joey8's suggestion, I changed one sentence. Thanks for your help, now it makes a lot more sense! :)

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15th July 2009, Wednesday, 8:00

The Lamberts' house

County Kerry

Ireland

Damn it… If I knew I would pay for the Irish visit by insomnia, I'd never leave my cozy Venice hotel. Was it the bed's fault? Or the new, unfamiliar place? Or my emotions raging after the eventful day? Don't know what was the reason. Enough saying, I spent the whole night wriggling in my bed, feeling my heart throbbing and my head aching. I tried to take short, nervous naps, but they didn't last long, quickly broken by sudden trembles coming through me and itches of anxiety, piercing like needles. When I finally managed to get some more rest, I had an awful dream. In this one, I was wandering around a lost, dark tomb. I didn't know what for, but I listened to a voice calling my name. A man's voice. I had a feeling that if I find him, I'd be rescued. So I tried, making my way through a stream of bugs flooding my feet. The insects were biting my heels and giggling meanly, and when I tried to crush or shake them off, I noticed they all had Scarlet's face. I lifted one of them and squeezed it in my hand. I ignored its jaws nibbling at my palm. I felt the Suits' breaths on my neck, heard their footsteps chasing after me through the labyrinth of rocky halls… but then, a tall silhouette appeared in a circle of light, on a background of sun shining through the oval entrance, a gust of wind ruffled my hair and filled my nostrils, clearing them off the mustiness of the underground. He reached his hands out to me; I spurted, but it was too late; the Suits' hands caught me and pulled back, through I struggled, scratched and bit. I called to the man standing on the stairs, hoping he'd rush to my aid, but he didn't move. Then, out of anger, I cursed him heavily and threw the Scarlet-faced bug at him. It hit him right at his chest, stretched its legs, embraced him in a tight, almost lascivious manner, but I knew it was going to absorb him, to consume his heart and digest it slowly. And I didn't feel satisfaction. All that filled me was pain, regret and desperation. 'Come on, jelly', the dark-haired spanker tugged my elbow, 'Klaus told me I could keep your chunky ass, but he wants to have your fingerprint…' But I knew he was lying, as he was pulling me onto the hot chair buzzing pressingly…

And then a flashing brightness hit my eyes and I jerked up with a choked shout, 'The sponge!', panting and finally realizing that I'm safe, I'm not going to be executed and the sudden ray was a sunbeam falling through the clean windows and lacy curtains into a cozy room, not a torture chamber. And the sinister beeping was caused by nothing else than the alarm clock preset yesterday to wake me up at 8 a.m.

I breathe heavily, squeezing my hands on the creased sheet and listening to the vibrations of my cell. My brow furrows harder every moment because of the irritating sound. I finally lose my temper and take the phone from the bedside cabinet, pressing the red button violently, then throwing it onto the mattress, where it lands with a creaking thud. I hide my face in my hands, digging my fingers into my hair, as if I was going to scratch them off my head. I feel nauseous and tremble though the whole room is stuffy and sweat is coming down my back.

Have pleasant dreams, Zhalia.

Yeah, thanks, Dante. Pleasant as hell. I'll drop dead from amazement, literally.

The tension eases slowly; eventually, I sigh and fall onto my back with my arms flung above my head. I feel sand in my eyes. I woke up as tired as I fell asleep. But taking one nap more is pointless, I'll only struggle with another nightmares. But maybe they were only caused by clamminess? I should get up and ventilate the room, then think about the rest.

I approach the window and examine the strange shutters. It takes a while before the latch fails, but I finally open them wide. I lean over the windowsill, close my eyes and take deep breaths, letting the wind clear the air. The weather is so nice; a bit windy, but the sun is shining so brightly and its beams touch my cheeks so fleetingly, playfully… I should take advantage on that and go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will blow all the monstrous visions out from inside me and bring some inner peace instead.

That idea stimulates me to move. I go to the bathroom, take a short, cold shower, brushing off every sign of tiredness and refreshing myself. When I get out of the cabin, I have goose bumps, but my skin finally doesn't feel numb. Wrapped in a light-colored towel, I clean my teeth and brush my hair, frizzing them a bit. They're a bit wild today, but who cares, they'll get messed nevertheless. I wonder if I should resign from make-up, but… I don't want to look like a dowdy bagger. It doesn't matter that maybe no one sees me. I want to look good just for myself, so I decide to paint my lashes and cover the bags under my eyes. Yeah, that's enough. The outfit is a snap for me; as I have to feel good in my own shoes, I'm going to put on my beloved jeans and one of those long-sleeved, boat-necked blouses I love, revealing my shoulders and very airy. I resign from all the gloomy colors like grey and black, choosing a red one instead. Red is a color of bravery. I want to be brave today. And I've never really worn this one before. I guess it's too flaming for everyday use. But for vacation? I can allow myself to lighten my wardrobe a bit.

Prepared like that, I come down the stairs. I listen carefully to the sounds of the house, checking if anyone but me got up already. Unfortunately, someone buzzes in the kitchen. From the clanks of pots and quiet crooning, I conclude that Mrs. Lambert is preparing a breakfast for her guests, like every exemplary hostess. I hold my breath and try to sneak past the kitchen door - I'd rather go out unnoticed, avoiding any unwanted company. However…

'Zhalia, dear!', I hear behind my back when my hand is just twenty centimeters away from the door handle.

How is that possible that Sandra Lambert nosed me out despite my efforts to stay as silent as possible? Me, a well-trained espionage specialist? Maybe that house also has its invisible barriers, like Dante's crib? Or Mrs. Lambert, a retired Seeker, still uses some of her old tricks? You can resign from a job, but the power can't be simply switched off… Or maybe it's just the maternal instinct? People tell a lot about the abilities a woman develops after the childbirth. Not only a female Seeker can sense her householders' moods, tell exactly where they are and when they will get hungry, she always has a right advice to say and a loving word to cheer someone up. That's what I've heard, but I couldn't check myself if it was true. I didn't know any mother. Even my own. As I didn't have a proof, I regarded these mystical skills as some anecdote or an exaggeration.

But now I have a feeling that there may be a grain of truth in those stories about mothers. And certainly in the belief that nothing would escape their attention in the areas adjoining to the hearth.

'What an early bird you are! I didn't expect any of you waking up so soon! Did something happen?', Mrs. Lambert asks with solicitude after she accepts my quiet greeting,

'No, why…', I mumble uneasily, staring at my feet. She doesn't really wait for the answer, though.

'How are you today?', she continues, approaching me and drying her hands in the cloth. 'You looked unwell yesterday and went to bed so early. I thought you might be sick… Do you feel any better?'

'Oh, yeah… I… I'm fine…', I respond stuttering, a bit overwhelmed by that interrogation. 'I just need some fresh air.'

'Without breakfast?!', she exclaims with horror. 'No way!', she embraces my shoulders, taking me by surprise. 'You have to eat something. You've already skipped the supper! You, young girls, are so reckless when it comes to nutrition…', she carries on, leading me forcefully to the kitchen.

'I'm 23', I murmur under my breath, stunned by that sudden flow of concern and attention, however, a bit confused as well. I want to remind Lok's mother that I'm all grown-up and can take care of myself.

'And you're so skinny!', she gasps in disbelief. 'No wonder if you're starving yourself. Come on, I made a lot of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages...'

I hold back a moan of fright when she sits me down in front of mounts of fried, oily food. A typical Irish breakfast, huh?... Am I really supposed to eat this?! That won't help me overcome my nausea for sure. I must have a terrified face as Mrs. Lambert chuckles quietly observing me.

'Cathy reacts exactly the same', she states with a motherly smile. 'Don't worry, there are also some toast and pancakes. Lok will take care of the rest for sure. Good thing to have such a gorb[1] around', she joked.

I give the smile back faintly, a bit confused. Why is she so nice towards me? We barely know each other yet she acts as if I was an old friend of the house. She brings all the plates closer to me to let me choose what to eat. It'd be rude to resign just like that, though I'm not really hungry… Under the hostess' expectant stare, I take two toasts and start to crumble them into tiny pieces.

'Like a sparrow', Mrs. Lambert comments leniently. 'Well, I hope you'll open out soon and feel at home.'

One of the crumbs sticks in my throat. I cough and quickly grasp a glass of orange juice, already standing next to my dish. At home, huh? I spent most of the time in airplanes, trains and hotel rooms. The only place which serves as a home for me was Klaus' library… but I'd rather not imagine to be there now, due to our… differences. Besides, the library isn't a good location to eat in peace – you never know when his mutated specimen steals your food right before your eyes.

Mrs. Lambert comes back to carrying on her duties, but I realize suddenly that I'm supposed to entertain her with a small talk. I panic a little; what am I going to say? My usual conversations are focused on missions, intrigues and lies. When it comes to casual chatters, I'm tongue-tied. Luckily, my wild thoughts are interrupted by the creek of stairs and a lively:

'Hello Mom, Zhalia!'

Cathy, completely dressed and woken up, enters the kitchen energetically, kissing her mother on the cheek and giving me a wide smile.

'Two skylarks! I've never beaten Mom in waking up early, but now she has a competition!', she throws, then loses interest in me as quickly as it appeared, checking if there wasn't something she could help at.

'Get ready for the classes, honey, I'll do it myself', Mrs. Lambert assures her.

'I'm not in a hurry, they start at 10 a.m.', Cathy calms her down.

'Enough time to eat a breakfast', Mrs. Lambert is inexorable.

Cathy shakes her head, but surrenders.

'Mom's all that, so stubborn', she explains, sitting at the table and scooting the toasts to herself. While smearing her bread with raspberry jam and honey, she continues: 'She thinks I'm doing everything to skip a meal, and that I'm on some stupid diet! But that's just due to her genes that I look like a weight-obsessed fifteen-years-old', she laughs, biting the first sandwich. 'She can't understand that I just want her to have a break, that silly woman!', she adds with fondness, chewing her sandwich. 'I always have everything under control. I won't miss anything. Otherwise I wouldn't decide to take up those summer courses…'

I usually can't stand such blabbering, but Cathy's is relaxing in some way. Pleasant, as it lightens the atmosphere in the already bright kitchen even more. It's not a studied play, just the way she is. What a hyperactive girl. In a good way, though. I can't stand blowzy, sensitive plants.

'…you know, those definite integrals are a total mess!', she states, stunning me.

'You're studying mathematics?', I choke out, gaping.

'Economy', she specifies. 'But there's a lot of math. I can't stand it, my favorite subject is logics, I don't know how people can't get rid of it, it's not as complicated as it's widely believed', she carries on as if she didn't notice my dumbstruck face. I didn't expect her to be such an ambitious type. I guess that not every blonde has to be an inane Barbie doll…

A loud moan breaks Cathy's enthusiastic speech.

'Mooooorning.'

Lok plods down the steps and enters the kitchen, stretching out. The boy suddenly lets out a loud yawn. His hand which was supposed to cover his gaping mouth scratches his bare belly, revealed by the raised blue pajama shirt.

'Lok, behave yourself, you're with ladies!', Mrs. Lambert hisses chidingly, watching her younger offspring crossing the kitchen like an actor in the spotlight.

He ignores her completely, almost sitting on my lap blindly, as his eyes are squinted and spliced due to sleepiness. I push him away onto the spare chair. He thanks me in a murmur and reaches out for the food. I hand the plates to him out of mercy and not to let him stain my clothes.

'What's up, stinker?', Cathy eyes him impishly. 'Tired after the trip? I thought you wouldn't get up before noon!'

'I wouldn't…', he admitted frankly, 'but I realized I'm too hungry to fall asleep again when Dante woke me up accidentally.'

I raise my head from above the plate full of crumbs, trying not to look too interested. Of course not in Lok's experiences. Luckily, he answers my unspoken question.

'He said he were going to jog or something', he adds.

Obviously, I should guess it myself. Such an organized person leads a healthy lifestyle for sure… I kinda admire it. I'm not a very dutiful person, especially when it comes to sports. I'm quite fit, but working on my condition wasn't something that I enjoyed. It's more like a necessity in order to survive, not a goal itself nor a hobby. I wouldn't sacrifice few hours of sleep just for running through the meadows… I'd rather go see them without rush, not to miss any of their hidden secrets that could pass me by in a hurry.

I'm not the only person doubtful of such activities. Some people openly voice their disagreement.

'Maaan, as if we hadn't had enough exciting exercises yesterday…', the young Lambert moans, grubbing in his eggs lethargically.

'Exciting? A tomb sightseeing?', Cathy raises her eyebrows in a surprised manner.

Mrs. Lambert makes a quick glance to her son, but he doesn't notice it due to his lids dropping. Luckily, Cathy doesn't focus too much on his meaningful remark. Something else catches her attention.

'Of course', she smirks knowingly, 'and I bet it was mostly Scarlet's merit', she teases her younger brother.

'Give it a break', he murmured , blushing a bit.

'You're as red as Zhalia's blouse', she continues. 'It's cool, by the way', she surprises me with a compliment, but quickly returns to embarrassing her sibling. 'Did something nice happen to Lokey after the breathtaking reunion with Scarlet?', she mocks him.

'Shut up!', he hisses, waking up from his apathy immediately and looking around, as if he was checking if no one heard him. It would end up with Sophie sulking the whole day, I think. 'Mind your own business! What about that goofball you were going out with?'

'That goofball has a name', she reproaches him. 'However, I broke up with Stan last month.'

'I'll smash his mouth when I see him!', Lok promises warmly, suddenly making a turnabout at a mere thought his sister might have gotten hurt by a man.

'Don't you dare!', Cathy scolds him. 'He's twice as big as you. Besides, I'm not holding a grudge against him nor anything. We just… don't go together', she shrugs, deep in her thoughts. Her eyes lose their usual merry sparks, so alike Lok's. However, she notices our stares and then laughs suddenly, waving her hand dismissively. 'But where are we, in a television drama? I don't need a group therapy! Especially being surrounded by such lookers', she adds jokingly, blinking cheerfully.

'Thanks, Sis', Lok mumbles, pleased by the sudden praise.

'I wasn't talking about you', she says patronizingly. Cherit is out of question, Lok as well, and that makes only one male left… 'Dante's quite a babe magnet, isn't he?', she remarks lightly.

I twitch and bristle hearing this, trying not to kill her at once with my stare. What did I say about her not being a blonde bimbo?! I take it back. She's just like a character from a teenage sitcom, shallow, dull and…

'Don't tell me you joined his fan club too', Lok murmurs, wincing, as discontent as me.

'Relax, I have enough of men for now', Cathy calms him down. At first it doesn't soothe my raging emotions, only arises more suspicions. Every girl who says so secretly seeks for a replacement of her ex. But… she doesn't look very interested. 'Besides, he's not really my type. But I noticed how other girls look at him.'

'Other girls?', Lok repeats anxiously. I guess that even the blind young Lambert is aware of Sophie's affection towards their mentor… 'Who do you…'

'Scarlet, of course. Who else?', she shrugs, looking at her brother strangely, as if she didn't understand his worry. Well, she probably didn't noticed his newest crush, focused on the old one. 'She's boy-crazy, everyone knows it. So silly', Cathy rolls her eyes with impatience. 'If she continues to chase after the guys so desperately, she'll rather scare them away than attract their attention.'

Alright, maybe I'm a bit ashamed that I changed my judgment about Lok's sister so quickly… Now warm feelings for Cathy are flooding me like a tsunami. I want to nod my head strongly and agree with her, but I don't manage to make an eye contact. Instead, Mrs. Lambert pierces her with her strict stare.

'Don't say such things, Cathy', she lectures her daughter. 'First, Scarlet's a friend, she keeps in touch with us after so many years! Second, she's a guest. She'd be very disappointed and sad if she came into the kitchen and heard you.'

And that's how I learnt that Scarlet spent the night under the same roof. Of course, Mrs. Lambert wouldn't let her go alone in the dark, through the heaths! Damn her hospitality. Now I know why I had nightmares. I slept few meters apart from a banshee…

Strangely, Cathy seems as surprised.

'She wasn't there already?', she asks, raising her eyebrows. 'She woke up a long time ago, before me.'

'No, she wasn't', Mrs. Lambert responds worriedly. 'Where can she be?'

'Maybe she went home already?', Lok guesses.

'Without saying goodbye? It's not like Scarlet at all', Sandra states, shaking her head.

'Yeah, and I promised to drive her back to Milltown…', Cathy wonders, then shrugs. 'I don't have a clue.'

But I do. As I think about it, I feel all the warmth and relax vanishing from my body, as if it was blown out by a gust of cold breeze. The toast breaks in my hands, covering the tablecloth in crumbs, which catches everyone's attention.

'Thank you', I murmur, pulling the plate away from me and getting up to escape their questioning stares. 'I'll go for a walk.'

'You haven't eaten much', Mrs. Lambert notices, looking at the cheerless remains of few dry toasts. 'Are you still feeling bad, honey?', she asks with concern, trying to touch my forehead and check its temperature.

I pull away slightly. Maybe I'm just a bit older than her daughter, but… no taking liberties!

'No', I respond gruffly, feeling uncomfortable. 'I'm just not hungry.'

I leave the kitchen before they manage to stop me.

'Put something on, dear, it's very windy today!', Lok's mother shouts enquiringly.

I grit my teeth. Rack off, woman, you've got your own children to boss around, but I'm not one of them! The defiance arises in me with every step. I want to pass the jacket hanging on the hook ostentatiously, but… something in me fights against the contrariness. Eventually, I pluck the jacket from the hanger and fling it onto my shoulders with anger, filled with a strange certainty that it was some of Sandra Lambert's power that made me do that.

The same day, 8:03

County Kerry

Ireland

Dante stopped at the peak of the hill, bending and leaning both hands on his knees. He tried to calm the panting. Running against the fickle wind was quite a challenge even for a sportsman like him. He felt sweat coming down his spine and chest, his damp shirt sticking to his torso and back, chilling his warmed-up body unpleasantly. It'd be better not to stay exposed to the gusts. Just a short break, then, before he comes back to the Lamberts'.

He straightened up and combed his wet hair back, sticking his face out to the sun and catching deep breaths. No matter how hard it had been to get here, given the difficult weather conditions, it was worth it. He loved the feeling of his body working exactly like he wanted, the smooth moves of his muscles stretching out and coming back to their initial state, the long leaps he made with every effort of his legs. He had always thought that running was like a substitute of flying available for every man. And thus, he had never had any Icarus-like dream of growing wings.

After all, he was happy that he could do as much as jogging for now. Yesterday it hadn't been so certain. He still remembered the discharges piercing his head and how he had feared that if they continue, he'd lose control over his limbs, and eventually, his life, completely at the Organization's merit. And even if he had escaped, what of a help would he had been for his team, disabled? Luckily he had been rescued in time, before the electricity had destroyed important nerves in his brain. He was sure everything stayed fine; the best proof was today's training. He looked at the sun, thankful that he was able to watch it again, standing on his own legs, with his mind as clear as always.

He felt a soft brush on his bare ankle; he smiled noticing a dirty-brown lizard sitting on his boot and staring at the horizon blankly. Hi there, he greeted the reptile noiselessly. Perhaps it took him for another part of the landscape due to his stillness. It looked like the Irish nature had accepted him, as it had showed him its few secrets: a red fox with greenishly-gleaming eyes lurking in a birch grove next to the sandy path; a hedgehog curled right onto the road and looking like an enormous spiky chestnut; and last but not least, a very rare Irish hare crossing a meadow and leaving him behind in few seconds - however, he had managed to notice its bluish-gray fur before it had disappeared in the distance. Quite a nice change after spending such a long time in Venice when he could have only spotted some domestic pets, rodents and birds such as doves. He was very devoted to the Queen of the Adriatic; he cherished it for its majesty, heritage and restrained, sophisticated beauty, but sensed also its inner rhythm, like an impulse coming through the veins of canals. However, he had never been a complete city slicker and sometimes missed a break away from buildings closing the space, from the limitations created by walls, from people living too close to each other and thus too interested in their neighbors' life, as if they hadn't had their own to worry about.

He decided to stay a bit longer, not wanting to disturb the lizard, his only companion to share the view. Unfortunately, his attempts had gone to waste, as his empty stomach started to rumble just then. The lizard darted into the grass; its thin tail was visible for a while, then disappeared in a tuft of yellow flowers, brightening the meadow, as if they had been sunbeams taking form of golden petals. Dante didn't expect to find such a surprise among the vast areas of the likeable but common pinkish clover. Such a pity no one was here to share his discovery. Suddenly he got reminded of Zhalia. How would she react if he brought them for her? It wouldn't hurt to check. Although he was against ruining the natural environment, well, one handful out wasn't a big deal. If it could lighten her mood, it was worth it. Of course in case she liked flowers, just like every woman did… A problem was that Dante couldn't be sure about the matters at which Zhalia would react like a statistic female. She was… original. Yeah. That was a proper word. Not disrespectful yet underlining her unusual, changeable demeanor.

He reached for the flower, but before touching its stalk, he hissed. Hidden under the leaves, Dante noticed long, sharp thorns, which scratched his skin. However, it didn't make him change his mind. He got even more convinced that it was a right choice. Zhalia was as prickly as this plant. Even a cactus wouldn't be too much for her. He smirked. He should have thought of getting one for her. Someday. But maybe when she'd be in better condition, well enough to laugh at the joke. In the state like yesterday, she'd rather throw the gift at him. Aiming at the head, of course. Or butt.

He picked the tuft, minding its natural security, and then got rid of the thorns, removing them cautiously. Fine. Now it was really time to go back, he was getting more and more hungry. He should have eaten before Lok got up, otherwise there wouldn't be much food left. And the flowers might have withered soon.

Suddenly, before he even managed to turn around and leave, something hit his back, embracing him tightly and covering his eyes. His body tensed, like every time when he sensed an ambush. He intended to frail around and shake the attacker off, however, he surrendered smelling a familiar puff of subtle perfumes and hearing a playful voice in his ear:

'Guess who?'

He sighed; when he was talking about company, he hadn't really meant such an intimate, smothering contact. He'd rather be fine with the lizard… He tried to get free in a less drastic manner, realizing that he was all beaded with sweat and a bit embarrassed by anyone else realizing that, but the person behind him squeezed him more tightly despite his sloppy state.

'No, no, no cheating, Mr. Vale!', she sang cheerfully. 'Now, as a punishment, you'll have to scoop yourself out!'

'Scarlet, please…', he murmured, moving his shoulders to shake her off, but she was grasping him in an octopus-like manner. 'No fooling around.'

She tensed, noticing he wasn't joking. She sighed finally, warming the back of his neck, and let go off him. When he turned to her, she looked at him leniently, like a caretaker at her charge. Dante wondered how Lok could have stood that when she babysat him. Well, he had probably been too young to mind such habits; at such age every older person is seen as a deity. Especially a pretty girl.

'I'm sorry', she said, though there wasn't much of remorse in her voice. 'I thought that since you're on vacation, you'll be more… loose, not such no-nonsense', she underlined with a slight reproach.

'I am', he shrugged. 'And that's why a sudden ambush shocked me. Otherwise I wouldn't let you get so close unnoticed', he warned her meaningfully.

'Of course', she smiled, tilting her head distinctively. That gesture was supposed to accentuate her feminine charm, however, she resembled a budgie more, and Dante always associated those with charming, lovely, yet naïve and silly behavior. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that a girl tricked you… if you fulfill my conditions', she teased him. 'Scooping out is still on, you know.'

Dante barely stopped rolling his eyes. That Scarlet, always so perseverant, intrusive, even when it was least appreciated. He wondered what to do. His eyes laid on the flowers. He pursed his lips, dissatisfied. They were supposed to get to Zhalia… However, Scarlet wouldn't give that silly game a break unless she got what she wanted. Better deal with her on his terms than wait for her to invent some more ridiculous ones.

'Here', he reached the flowers out to her. 'Is it enough of a price?'

Scarlet's eyes widened in surprise; she gaped, taking the flowers in her hands as if they had been made of glass.

'Gorse!', she exclaimed, burying her face in them and inhaling their distinctive, coconut-like smell. 'It's my favorite! How did you know?', she raised her eyes at him above the golden petals. They clashed wildly with her fiery hair. 'We Irish have a phrase about them…', she lowered the bouquet, looking at him timidly from under a reddish curl falling onto her temple. 'It goes like: When gorse is out of blossom, kissing's out of fashion… and since it's almost always in flowers…', she added in a whisper, decreasing the distance between them.

Dante wished there was a lizard on his clothes every time he needed it. Women were usually afraid of reptiles… It would make many things less embarrassing and awkward. However, he couldn't have wished for such a luck. There had to be a way out of this apart from pushing her away and explain that he didn't really reciprocate her unwanted affection… And there was. Scarlet almost fell down when she leaned over to him, intending to lay her hands on his chest, and then twitched when she heard a loud beep. Dante did his best not to sigh with relief.

Scarlet regained her balance and stared at him in puzzlement. Then she touched her jeans pocket, realizing it was her phone calling.

'I'm sorry', she mumbled, taking the bouquet in one hand and drawing the cell out with another. 'I'll just check it.'

She gave him a faint smile, though she seemed knocked for a loop. She tried to cover her embarrassment, focusing on the message.

'It's Cathy. She asks if I still want a lift back to Milltown…', she read and looked at him expectantly, as if she had wanted him to comment it somehow.

'Why not to take a chance?', he responded lightly. 'It's better than crossing the heaths alone; quite a long trip, if you ask me.'

'Oh…', her face fell at the last word. Did she expect him to stop her saying that she could spend some time with his team? Or at least propose to walk her home? Well, he should have done that, however… He didn't really want to waste the whole day on chatters with Scarlet. He had some things to take care of. She didn't have to know that the urgent case he had to work on was checking Zhalia's health and lightening her mood. Well, it was his free time, wasn't it? Since he hadn't had many breaks, he deserved a right to plan this one the way he liked.

'You shouldn't make Cathy waiting', he reminded her. 'Let's go back.'

He encouraged her and gave her way down the hill. She accepted, thanking him with an approving stare. He gave her an absent-minded smile, but didn't respond to her gaze; instead, he peeked desolately at the flowers in her hands, regretting that there was no other way to get rid of her. Good thing there were more like those nearby. And… that phrase she had quoted may have come in handy in the future, when he got a brand new bouquet for Zhalia. There was a risk she'd give him a slap for making such allusions, but… it'd be worth trying, wouldn't it?

'Dante', Scarlet started suddenly, interrupting his bold plans. 'In fact, there was something I wanted to ask you', she smiled faintly, though hope still hadn't vanished from her eyes, piercing him enquiringly.

'Yes?', he encouraged her to speak, though he wasn't really that interested. He had a hunch that would be something he wouldn't like to hear.

'I thought that maybe… you'd like to join me in my trip to Carrowkeel', she said shyly, playing with the gorse petals. She brushed her strands behind her ear, fluttering her lashes like two butterflies. Mysteriously, they lost their reddish tint; now they were pitch-black and seemed way longer than yesterday. Vale winced and looked aside, breaking the thread her stare seemed to create between them… like a spider weaving its cobweb. He would rather not let this gaze interfere with his feelings and thoughts. He had to decide on his own, and falling for a woman's clever tricks wasn't the best way to keep mind clear and unaffected… 'I told you that I'm going there to gather some info on the ancient burial grounds. And since we work together so effectively… well…'

He twitched.

'Carrowkeel?', he repeated. 'In County Sligo? Near County Meath?'

'Yes', she nodded. 'See, you've already…'

'You're not going anywhere', he shook his head. 'That trip will have to wait.'

'Excuse me?', she blinked, surprised.

'As a fully-fledged Seeker', he accentuated the phrase she liked to use so much, 'you should've known that coming back to the attack spot the day after the ambush is not the wisest choice.'

'It's approximately a hundred miles away…', she responded quietly.

'Yet we both know that the distance isn't any burden for the Organization', he said firmly. 'I think their appearance wasn't just a coincidence. We can't be sure that they're not sniffing nearby. I'm sorry.'

'That passage tomb is secured few times in a year', she protested. 'There's only a slight chance to get attacked.'

'But it still exists', Dante shook his head. He cleared his throat. He didn't really like to brass people off, especially when they spoke to him in such a polite manner, but… he couldn't imagine dragging his companions into such an uncertain place again during the few days. The last task had ended up well just because they had had a lot of luck, nothing more. 'I can't endanger my team', he shook his head, spreading his arms. 'I promised them a break. I have to keep my word.'

'Is that the only reason?', she beamed suddenly. 'They can stay at home, no problem. We won't need such a big group. Just you and I will be enough', she assured him confidently.

'No, it won't', he denied more sharply, a bit irritated by her immature opinion. 'What would we do if we get attacked by a group like the one before? I can't imagine dealing with them, given that you've just looted your first Titan', he underlined with just a drop of reproach.

Scarlet lowered her head like a scolded child.

'It's not like anything can harm me beside you', she murmured, playing with her bouquet. 'You've got everything under control yesterday, even if we were cornered. You got us out of it, so you will again… just hypothetically…'

He sighed, covering his face with his hand. He didn't care much that the gesture reveals more parts of his wet outfit. It suddenly stopped to matter.

'I'm not a Superman', he carried on quietly, a bit exhausted with explaining it over and over. 'It's true I'm quite good at spells, hand-to-hand combat and riddles, I always keep my eyes open and try to anticipate the next events, but it's not a godly power. I don't see the future, I can fail to make a right move in time. And it might not end up well for any of us.'

Scarlet observed him with her eyes still, unmoved by that honest speech.

'I'm going. Even alone', she decided stubbornly and that caught Dante off guard. He'd never witnessed Scarlet insisting on anything like that. Any other time he'd praise her determination, regarding it as a first step to finally have an authority over her life rather than follow the others. However, it wasn't the best moment to make such changes.

He heaved a sigh, pierced by her attentive green eyes.

'You're leaving me no choice', he remarked and could bet that a spark ignited behind her irises.

Due to his twisted politeness and sense of responsibility, he had gotten tricked nevertheless.

The same day, 8:25

The Lamberts' house

County Kerry

Ireland

I feel relieved when I stand at the veranda, away from attentive glares, intrusive questions and annoying chatters. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths and enjoying the solitude. I guess I'm not really a sociable person. Especially when the topic of the chatters is so pissing off. Did they really expect me to have appetite while talking about Scarlet Byrne and her whereabouts?! Besides, it's too obvious to wonder about it for so long…

No, stop. Maybe it's only a coincidence. What is the chance of finding someone on those vast meadows? Very low. And who would wander across them in waste? Yeah, it'd be too stupid even for that obsessed nymphomaniac.

Convinced by my own unquestionable logic, I loosen a bit, judging that I can enjoy the day after all. I wrap myself in the black jacket tightly and expose my face to the sun, relaxing. I find a special pleasure in the overarching silence, interrupted only by tree leaves humming in the wind and birds chirping among the branches. The morning melody enfolds me like a stream of sounds; every note rings in perfect harmony with the others. Even the crunch of pebbles brushing against each other under sweeping, careful steps and a laugh vibrating in the air.

I open my eyes and immediately detect a new apparition in the landscape. Dante walks the whitish path with his chestnut-colored head raised high to the clear sky, as if he wasn't embarrassed of his current appearance: a bit lax and not very fresh after running. Uh, maybe he really doesn't have to feel ashamed… After all, despite the spillages of sweat on his chest, he looks fine, donning a pair of black shorts and a simple gray T-shirt. Did I say: fine? I meant… so damn handsome! I usually think that men in shorts are ridiculous, however, most guys I saw had spindly, stork-like pasterns or plump, hairy hams. Dante doesn't belong to any of those categories. What muscular legs this hunk has, as if there wasn't a pound of fat on them! Why is he always covered in clothes so tightly if he's such a beefcake?! I like him way more without his creepy exhibitionist-like duster which shaded quite an interesting rest.

Uh… there are people who doesn't seem to mind it, though… All my pleasant impressions vanish when I notice his company. I purse my lips tightly, seeing a lanky, red-haired silhouette. She walks beside Dante with her head leaned to him in a girlish gesture and her fingers playing with petals of some yellowish weeds. Sorry, girl, but you don't look cute nor ethereal with them, just ridiculous. She resembles some anime character; her eyes may not be as large, but they squint into two lines while giggling. She'd scare all the birds with that squeal of hers. No wonder they got so silent, seeing such a competition. However, Dante seems to handle such high notes, as he's not wincing in disgust, just listening to her carefully, with his brow furrowed. He always looks focused around Miss Byrne; almost as if she was another riddle he'd like to solve, occupying his whole attention, leaving nothing for… for anyone else…

I should probably leave before they notice me… Oh, no worry. Despite my fiery blouse, I feel invisible. They are so lost in the talk that don't even realize I'm watching them. I guess they wouldn't like to be spotted... otherwise they wouldn't seek excuses for going outside. How romantic… my teeth will got rotten from the sweetness if I stay here any longer.

'Zhalia!'

I stop and look above my shoulder, gritting my teeth. All of the sudden, Dante took his eyes off Scarlet and laid them on me. His hand shades his face, then jerks up a bit in a greeting manner. Man, your armpit is wet… it's not really a view I'd like to see. I guess Scarlet thinks the same of me. She wrinkles her nose when Dante's not watching, as if someone put a dung before her. Believe me, gingy, you're not my favorite person either. I've seen transvestites looking prettier than you. However, it's too late to pretend that I don't see them both. I make a gesture that could be taken for a wave, then cross my arms on my chest, waiting for them.

'Zhalia!', Dante repeats lively, going ahead of Scarlet, crossing the stairs in two jumps and standing next to me. 'You awake already?'

Why's he smiling like that? Did something nice happen to him this morning? I wonder if he opened some… treasure chest during the walk. You know, if they planned something spicy, they probably did it even on the grass. Hope the straws stuck into the ginger's ass!

'As you see', I murmur unfriendly, not looking at him and convincing myself that it's due to him being so messy after his morning activities. 'You two didn't laze neither…', I remark bitingly.

'I went jogging', he excuses himself. 'It'd be a pity not to take a chance to explore such a neighborhood… You know, those impressive moorlands…', he raves over the view, looking at the surrounding green fields.

'… and playful nymphs hidden behind every tree…', I mock him, staring at his companion meaningfully.

'I met Scarlet halfway', he explains quietly, in a confidential voice, not catching my sarcasm. However, the fact that he associates her with nymphs is a bad sign… 'She bumped into me. Perhaps accidentally.'

'Oh, just from your point of view', I ironize, piercing Byrne with my stare. She approaches us, trying to catch up with Dante, which isn't so hard with such stilt-like legs. She's beside him in two seconds. 'How was the walk?', I ask her with a fake politeness. 'I didn't know you wanted to lose weight so much that you took up CHASING after Dante through the meadows. It must be hard, given his athletic condition.'

She waves her lashes innocently, but I know she is aware of my noiseless warning signals. She isn't as guileless as she wants to look.

'Unlike the others, I don't have to worry about my silhouette', she says leniently, looking me up and down. No point, girl. My weight isn't my weak spot. Especially after hearing from Mrs. Lambert that I'm skinny. 'And what do you mean by: chasing?', she repeats surprisingly, pretending not to understand my allusions. 'Dante wasn't running away. He seemed as if he had waited for me!', she responds, giving Vale a warm stare.

'I bet he did', I snarl scornfully, examining my nails to show them that I don't really care. 'He's always there when it comes to rescuing damsels in distress, lost in the world. What was your problem, then? No, don't tell me!', I interrupt her before she manages to answer, just to double the impression of my mockery. 'I'll guess it myself: a broken nail? A jug to open? Or, just can't say it out loud!, a spider on your bedroom wall? ', I carry on just as charmingly, blinking more often than necessary to mimic her habit. In passing, I notice that she used a new mascara, lengthening her short lashes and thus making her slit-like peepers look larger. Woh-hoh, eyes aren't your only problem, chick, and most of them can't be dealt with by using cosmetics. You'd have to wear a paper bag to hide that ugly mug of yours. I'll buy one for you myself. With pleasure.

I beam within when, though I saved most of my thoughts for myself, just the voiced half of this speech leaves her stunned. She can't even explode not to show Dante what a bad-tempered bitch she is. She manages to find another way to express her emotions, though, too exaggerated to be believable - she fakes a cheerful laugh, tilting her head back lightly.

'What amazing friends you have, Dante!', she addresses him instead of me, as if I was too weak-minded to understand her. 'Such a sense of humor! No, dear Zhalia', she says with her sweet hyper-friendly voice, covering her real feelings towards me, though I almost feel steam coming out her ears. 'I wanted to ask Dante for help as a professional Seeker, experienced in dealing with ancient secrets and mysterious clues', she informs me, peeking at Vale to check if he had heard it well. Yuk! What an obvious grease! 'I need some info on Carrowkeel in County Sligo for my thesis', Scarlet continues. 'However, it's not wise to visit such places alone. I thought about convoking a team earlier, and since you arrived… well, it makes many things easier for me', she shows her teeth in a wide grin and suddenly I recall The Jaws movies. 'Dante also admitted that searching for another group would be pointless.'

I shift my piercing stare at the mentioned criminal. Vale clears his throat in embarrassment. Or maybe it's only my imagination…

'Actually… I haven't agreed yet', he underlines. 'I wanted to ask the rest of you first. I cannot decide for the whole team… and…'

'Of course you can't! But sometimes asking is unnecessary, isn't it?', she chirps, taking advantage on his hesitation. 'Just take a look at Zhalia.'

'What do you mean?!', I bark at her, as if she stung me with a needle.

'Oh, dear', she drawls it so the caressing word sounds almost as if she offended me, 'haven't you looked in the mirror today? If I were you, I'd go back to bed', Scarlet interrupts with a slight venom, finally laying her meanly sparking eyes on me.

'With Dante, I assume', my mind reacts faster than me, I barely manage to bite my tongue before the words come out. I should throw them right at her face, however… it'd only convince her that I was moved by her remark. As hell I am! But I won't give her satisfaction and show that! Uh, or maybe… it's already visible… I guess my eyes look like burning torches and my wild hair raise above my head like Medusa's snake strands. I fix the ruffled shag desperately. Why Scarlet's locks always look so stylish?! Are they plastic or what?!

Fighting with the unruly bush on my head, I wait for Dante's support; I expect him to defend me and reproach Scarlet for going too far with her remarks, however…

'Here you are!', the door open suddenly. 'I thought you won't arrive! I was about to go alone!'

Cathy comes into our circle and puts both hands on her hips, piercing Scarlet with her cat-like eyes. Byrne doesn't mind, though.

'I'm sorry', she says dismissively, ignoring her appearance, with her eyes still plastered to Dante. 'I'll just thank Mr. Lambert for having me.'

'Just make it quick', Cathy rolls her eyes impatiently, clattering the car keys against her thigh. 'I don't want to be late for Mr. Collins' lecture.'

Scarlet nods, then passes us and intends to come inside, though she stops at the doorstep and turns to Dante.

'I guess I have to thank you as well', she says softly, stroking his chest with her fingers confidently. Then she stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. 'That's for the flowers. See you soon.'

Blood rushes to my head when I realize that this wisp of straw is a gift from Dante! How come?! Such a rag from a man like him?! Kheh, I shouldn't expect anything more from a guy who wears shitty clothes. Suits him well! However, that thought instead of bringing relief, casts a bitter shade on my mind. It makes me sick, disdainful and… angry? Am I angry? But why? 'Cause Dante inundates Scarlet with flowers? I expected so. I knew right from the start, when Dante first laid his eyes on her, that he has a soft spot for her. So why… why does it make me so furious and disappointed?...

I bite my lip so hard that I feel my tooth piercing the skin. I dig my nails into my palms when the door cracks and shuts. The following silence gets heavier every moment. Finally Dante heaves a sigh, brushing his sweaty hair back.

'I'll go take a shower', he informs us. 'Then we'll come back to the topic. Excuse me for a moment.'

He couldn't make a worse move than leaving me in such a rage without even trying to soothe my anger, just ignoring me as if I was a garden dwarf, a part of the landscape who became a witness of his caresses with Scarlet accidentally and didn't have a right be surprised, because it should be obvious…

'Guys', Cathy shakes her head, tilting back against the banister to see the cloudy sky. 'They are hopeless.'

I've almost forgotten about her presence, lost in my raging emotions.

'Tell me about it', I murmur bitterly. You don't even have a clue how hopeless they are. Your worst experience with a man is watching him burping or walking around in sloppy boxers. Maybe a poor first time with some awkward male virgin, as green as you. But don't try to convince me that you know men's darkest sides. I could write a thesis about that.

'Don't take it personally', she continues. 'Scarlet always affects men like that…'

Oh. I feel my heart sliding somewhere to my abdomen. So, Dante's fascination is not only my hallucination. Everyone sees it. I bite my lower lip, then manage to shake my head proudly. I snarl coldly, convincing myself that I'm just stung by Cathy's straightforward tone. I'm not used to be treated like that. You know, like, she was not afraid of me and my cutting responses and spoke her opinions openly. Guess she really knows me too little…

'And who said I care?', I drawl, jerking my head up so violently that half of my hair falls into my eyes.

Cathy blinks two times before she pierces me with her attentive, cerulean glare. Like an X-ray. I bristle, feeling uneasy under her examination, and try to cover it by brushing back my ruffled strands. She keeps observing me, though.

'I know Scarlet way longer than you', she says eventually, 'and I'm well-aware how irritating she can be. She chases everything with a drop of testosterone. But I guess… that the guys can't be blamed. They have to be treated more leniently… after all, they're like, a different race', she shrugs. 'We have to ignore their blunders and simply do our stuff…'

'I don't need a psychotherapy', I growl, accentuating my words the way that they sound almost like: 'It's not your business, so screw off'.

Cathy raises her brows in surprise, her face puzzled.

'Alright', she shrugs and straightens up, combing her hair with her fingers, though they don't really need to be fixed. 'I'll better hurry Scarlet up.'

She throws me a disappointed, guilty stare and leaves. I sigh. Guess I overdid it. She's not to blame, after all. She just tried to comfort me and find an ally against Scarlet in me… But hell, what gives if the next moment, she just goes to Byrne, acts as if nothing happened and gladly proposes her a ride back home? She's too soft when it comes to dealing with unwanted favors. I'm not going to hide my antipathy. Towards anyone. Even if I'd deserve a patch of 'hasty' again.

The same day, 8:33

The Lamberts' house

County Kerry

Ireland

One of the best places to think in peace was the shower cabin. It wasn't easy to access in the house full of guests… mostly women, but Dante managed to sneak to the bathroom before Sophie, just woken up and tousled, occupied it to pull herself together. He wouldn't stand another half of an hour spent in the clothes sticking to his sweaty body – and it was an optimistic version, if the girl wouldn't be styling her long hair. He felt a lot better when he locked the door, tore off the dirty clothes and had some time in peace, separated from the others, enjoying the solitude. However, the room couldn't isolate him from the sounds from the kitchen. A cheerful, excited chirp was still reaching his ears. He turned on the water to drown that sound, then came under the cold stream head on. Unfortunately, it didn't help much.

That Scarlet! What was going on with her? She acted weird, even more disturbing than back then in Venice. Dante thought she had overcome her exaggerated fantasies, however, she imagined too much and just repeated the whole scenario. And he had fallen for her sweet poses again, like a total fool, though he had only wanted to be well-mannered. Now he was paying for it a double price. She had to realize that he wasn't attracted to her and come to terms with that, but he couldn't just be straightforward and tell her to leave him alone. He hoped she would understand his discouraging behavior and give up on her fantasy. It disturbed him that he had to be so tepid towards her, but there was no other choice not to hurt her too badly. Yeah. No raising her spirits by overly familiar gestures, but keeping the cultured attitude would be just fine.

However, there was a matter he couldn't ignore. The Carrowkeel trip. Since no one had announced it as an official Foundation mission, he wasn't bound to accept the offer. He didn't feel really eager to go, just out of crookedness, to show Scarlet that his agreement wasn't as obvious as she thought, but… Letting her go there alone just didn't seem right. A rather fragile woman with no significant powers and only one Titan alone in the forlorn region… It just couldn't end up well, given that the Organization might have still wandered around.

And you call that not rising her hopes, Vale?, he asked himself, putting his hands on the screw.

He sighed, turning the water off. I guess they call it a savoir-vivre pathology, he responded, brushing the strands back and reaching for the towel.

He came out from the shower cabin, trying not to wet the floor with water dripping from his body and hair. He started to dry them energetically; the droplets landed on the spick-and-spanned mirror. Dante quickly wiped the water off it, not wanting to ruin Mr. Lambert's effort to keep the household neat. He froze with his hand on the glass; his reflection blinked to him with surprise. What was with those girls? Why did they fancy him so much? The guy he saw there couldn't be regarded as a stunner. His face didn't scare, but wasn't outstanding comparing to other men as well… Eyes of the simplest, common brown color, hair more reddish than dark, a normal, medium-sized nose, no special features. He had even grown a beard, damn it! A beard! He thought women didn't like beards. Still, they didn't stop to show him their affection.

What happened recently that it turned out this way? It wasn't like that before, when he was just a mere high school student or a young novice detective, and he hadn't changed much since then. Or maybe he had? He smiled to his reflection, recalling the times when there hadn't been an adult man staring at him, but a boy with a smooth face, a ragged fringe, a hesitant, mild smile and round eyes, sheepish, self-conscious, unsure. Oh well, he had changed. He had developed quite a fit body - so what? Most guys got rid of themselves recently and started to fight against growing bellies. For him, it was just a necessity, a side effect of being a Seeker – without his physical effectiveness, he would have been killed a long time ago, either by an enemy or by his own clumsiness. His hair had grown longer, his forehead had got stained by a shallow crease, small, faint wrinkles had appeared around his lids, due to laughing. After all, there had been times when he had laughed a lot, even if they had stopped last times. However, his face still stayed bright. And there wasn't a sign of doubt in his eyes, at least now. They were clear, calm and confident, with an intriguing gleam reflecting deeply behind the irises. The glow hadn't been there several years ago, but someday it had just lit – and hadn't burned out since then. It had stayed with him through all this time, changeless, indicating that no matter what had been going on with his organism, undergoing puberty and stabilization as a grown-up man, the most important twist hadn't occurred in his body, but in his mind.

He scratched his chin with content. Strange thing women had started to notice the attributes he had always had in him, and now fancied him for things which had been seen as wimpy in his teenage years. He guessed that fame reversed people's value system. It was some kind of a trend, a fetish – chasing a well-known idol, a celebrity, a dream every teenager had. Shame most women hadn't grown out of it. If they only knew what a boring guy he was! No exciting adventures, no wild ideas, no fireworks casually. Out of missions, his life was plain, simple and safe. But he thanked for every peaceful minute and didn't await any additional attractions. He had just one yearning.

Alright, maybe two. The second one – quite fresh. Namely, he wished to see his popularity playing at his hands. However, instead of impressing a crowd of admirers, he would like to see one particular person looking at him more propitiously, kindly, without that everlasting shade of scorn and disdain.

He guessed that the first important step to achieve that was putting on some clean clothes, just to match her well-groomed attitude. However, he wasn't a buck to rave over it for too long. He just pulled on his casual black sweater and grayish-blue, loose jeans. At least they were fresh, right? That should matter the most. He left the duster on the hook. It was more of a… knock-about outfit, even if he really felt fond of it. However, he could put his duties on the leisure for some time.

When he came back onto the veranda, Zhalia was still there, standing in the same position as twenty minutes earlier, as if the time had stopped. He felt his heart skipping a beat; a strange thing to do for a healthy, well-functioning organ, but it didn't surprise him. He had the same impression before, when he was walking up the hill to the Lamberts' and just noticed a small figure leaning over the railing. Maybe he'd have given her a skip if not her poppy-colored blouse, flashing like a red light urging him to stop and stare in approval and amazement. Good thing she had caught his eye. It scared away the weight of his promise for Scarlet for a while.

Well, of course it wasn't like a lightning from the sky which made him paralyzed due to the sudden realization of Zhalia's good looks. He traveled with her for long enough to notice her multiple assets. However, he still liked to take advantage on every moment she couldn't see him staring and admiring her appearance. At the moments like that, her prettiness gained a new suitable setting. She looked like a model on a picture, though no one prepared her nor the decorations for the photo session. Her long layered hair flew in the wind. Their dark bluish tint contrasted intriguingly with her fiery outfit, weaving on her shoulders and creating a honeycombed pattern on her olive skin, partially revealed by the boat cleavage. Though she put on a black jacket, it couldn't cover what a narrow waistline she had, comparing to her smooth, nubile hips. On the contrary, it got exposed even more due to the belt hanging loosely on her sides. For a moment, he just stared at the nice line her curves created, but quickly got a grip on himself.

'Sorry it took me a while', he said.

She didn't react. No word, no stare, nothing. Like a statue. Then, she embraced herself with her hands, wrapping her arms in the light clothing. Damn, he should have taken the cloak. At least he could have covered her. She really shouldn't put her health to the test, given her yesterday weakness.

'Aren't you cold? You could go inside', he said solicitously.

She trembled again, rumpling the sleeves violently. She was staying silent, staring stubbornly at the horizon. There was no doubt she had heard him, however, she acted as if he wasn't here or had gotten invisible.

'Zhalia?', he tried to catch her attention, but it failed. 'What's the matter?', he asked, not understanding her demeanor.

All of the sudden, she turned around as if stung by a needle, revealing her blazing eyes and contorted face. He realized that she wasn't shivering due to chilliness, but anger, clearly visible behind her irises.

'Can't you think it up yourself?!', she burst suddenly, placing her clenched hands on her hips.

She filled her lips in a way that mostly looked like a warning. And somehow, though that gesture should have alarmed him rather than fascinated, Dante thought that they got a nice line and shape. More sophisticated than the newest maseratti. Out of the blue, he recalled the way she had licked the cappuccino foam from the upper one back then in Vienna. And how much he had urged to help her clean her lips. To touch them. To feel their mellowness, accentuated by her transparent lip gloss. He still did. More badly than before. What a surprising feeling… after the whole time he had tried to remind himself that it was not wise to fancy his teammates. However, he had never had such a sexy one before. It was harder to resist the temptation…

He must've had a dumb face as Zhalia winced even more, enraged by his silence and muddle-headiness.

'The Ireland trip was supposed to be a vacation!', she threw accusingly. 'That's the matter!'

Her outburst shocked Dante so much that he shook off his strange desires. So, that was her only objection?

'You know, since it's not an official Foundation mission, you can always decide to stay', he said calmly, opposing her boiling emotions with his usual coolness. 'No one would blame you. You could take your time, rest a bit, wait till you get better. I could go there alone, and let the three of you relax...', he continued, looking in her eyes and seeking approval.

She gaped, losing half of her ferocity, apparently confused by that offer. It make her tense expression loose a bit, smoothing her face and giving her a feminine gentleness, quite shocking in that usually tepid, stony outlook. He smiled convincingly, taking advantage on that moment of breaking. She noticed that and didn't like it; she quickly closed her mouth and instead raised her eyebrows in a chilly manner to keep her attitude.

'Oh', she exclaimed coldly, pressing her arms to her breasts tighter. 'Are we really that needless?'

'This is not what I said…', Dante defended himself, his smile wiped away at instance. He spoke the truth. The first thing he thought about after Scarlet's proposition was that engaging his team wasn't the best idea. Zhalia shouldn't overwork herself, given her yesterday attitude, and he wouldn't need the kids to worry about if something happened. He didn't have any hidden reasons and it should have been stated out loud. 'I just said that…'

'…that you want to be alone with Scarlet?', she smirked meanly. 'Yeah, you did. Not directly… but don't take me for a fool, Vale', she came back to referring to him by his surname as abruptly as she flicked a strand off her face. 'I can read between the lines and understand when I'm a gatecrasher.'

'Don't contort my every word', he asked her in a collected way, furrowing his brow. 'I just don't want you to get involved because of my own duties. However', he started suddenly, finding it the only way to soothe Zhalia's emotions, 'if you're against it, I'll take it back', Dante said, drawling the words cautiously.

'And who are you, a man or a mouse?', she snarled, shooting him with her glare. 'Waiting for a woman to be more confident and decisive than you are? Really, cut this shit.'

She let go off the barrier and straightened up, fixing her slipping sleeve and proudly jerking her head. She passed him by and was about to go inside the house when Dante reached his hand to put on her shoulder and stop her. However, he resigned with his arm frozen halfway when a sarcastic chuckle escaped her mouth.

'I just can't understand…', she started, staring at her slender fingers leaning on the doorknob, 'why don't you have balls at all and can't admit that you WANT to go.'

'I'm not', Dante protested, spreading his arms to justify his stupid gesture, 'but Scarlet forced it out of me…'

'Obviously!', she guffawed sardonically. 'But I guess her methods weren't so unpleasant if you didn't refuse more strictly and even gave her flowers…', she hissed mockingly, like a furious cobra.

His eyes widened when the truth hit him like a lightning. Of course, how could he haven't caught it earlier? He laughed with relief, glad that he finally understood the whole mess.

'It's not what you think', he responded quickly. 'Zhalia, those flowers…'

He cut, the chuckle withering on his lips when he felt her hand grasping the collar of his sweater and pulling him violently.

'I. DON'T. GIVE. A. DAMN', she drawled, diminishing the space between them. 'Just stop playing those games, stop sending me messages, stop complimenting me and messing with my head while the next day you're giving flowers to another girl… Make sure you keep your lovey-dovey stuff away from me, understood?!', she barked at him.

He didn't manage to catch her hand in time and hold onto its place, squeeze it tight, keep her here and explain slowly yet convincingly despite her obvious struggles. She let go of him and turned on her heel, dashing through the door, leaving Dante stunned and puzzled. Before he caught up with her, he heard her slamming the bedroom door and separating from him completely.

He cursed under his breath. He had screwed it absolutely.

The same day, 8:12

The Lamberts' house

County Kerry

Ireland

I come up the stairs and rush into my room so fast that I wonder why the door don't fall off the jamb due to the gust created by my entrance. Road Runner should learn from me, damn it! I throw myself onto the creased bedding, dig my nails into the pillow like a panther burying itself in the fresh meat and hide my mouth in the rutted quilt to drown the yells of fury and aggression that want to escape my throat. I clench my hands into fists and bang them against the mattress, wishing it was someone I'd really love to punch instead…

What a sudden twist that he wants to keep me in bed! I shouldn't have been surprised by that, as I had a strange feeling that there's a reason lying behind it. He wasn't going to keep me company and… uh, act as my blanket. Of course, I wasn't mistaken! He just wanted to push me and the rest of the team off the screen to go on a lovely one-to-one trip with his lover! Iseult of Quick Hands, I assume, if she was skilled enough to make such an impression on a crystal knight like Vale!

I grit my teeth when a knocking sounds. Bang as long as you want, it's the thing you seem to enjoy, especially towards objects flat like a plank. I had bigger breasts than Scarlet when I was twelve… Strange thing men really find her appealing. Or maybe it's just like Cathy said? Maybe it's her who chases them so pushily and them, unable to overpower their physiology, just surrender to her? I smile faintly, down to thinking. There was a grain of truth in that comment… What do I expect from poor Mars alien creatures who have brains in their pants? To hold back their primitive instincts? That's not a soap opera nor an epic romance. Dante's not a chivalrous knight, even if he would want to be see like one. No wonder he's not interested in my wooing if he's finding indulgence somewhere else. Sorry, I don't believe in his fairytales about helping a woman in need. The only need he's gonna help her fulfill is satisfying Scarlet's itching pussy. The best proof is that he follows her like a dog chasing a bitch in the rutting season and waits for her to tap his head like a good puppy.

He gets more pushy and taps his fists against the wood more violently. So, stings of remorse, Mr. Vale? Thinking I ended my life just because you fancy another girl? Dream on, bastard.

I don't want to see him now, never ever, but… this sound is irritating like hell! I guess there's no other way to stop it that dash to the door, open it violently and laugh off his stupidity. That way I'd finally relieve myself. So, I do as I planned and throw the door open before his stunned face and his raised hand.

And the only realization I make is that I don't want to laugh at all. I can't. Not looking right at Dante. I hate him. I hate every part of him. I'm disgusted by him from his trainers to the sticking-out strand on the back of his head, repulsed by his brows raised in surprise, detesting the way he looks at me, as if it was me who did something improper towards him…

Me! It's not me who two-times, damn it! (Oh well, at least not literally.)

…but if you think I'd let you cuddle with her alone…

…you can whistle for it, Vale.

'I'm going', I bark at his surprised expression. 'Just don't paw each other in my presence.'

Dante heaves a sigh, shakes his head and places his raised hand on his temple, like a facepalm.

'Zhalia, it's not like that…', he then reaches it out to me, open, as if he wanted to show me that he's not hiding anything.

'Shut up', I interrupt him, growling, 'or I will push you down the stairs and film you rolling down like a ball of shit. Interested?', I ask, and seeing his dumbstruck expression, I answer myself: 'Just as I thought.'

Then, I slam the door again, wishing they'd fall off the jamb and hit him right in the face. That's the next thing I'd like to record in a movie or on a photo. Yeah, a picture to update his Foundation profile. Would he look good with as Rudolf The Red-Nosed Reindeer?

I chuckle to myself. Yeah, I should really try to hack the database again. At least I'll knock Mr. Vale off his pedestal. And give the rest of the staff a good reason to laugh, even if I'm not the one to share their amusement.

The same day, 9:45

Milltown

County Kerry

Ireland

Clearing off the house went way easier that I expected. We had to acquaint Mrs. Lambert with the situation, which helped us to deal with the rest of the unwanted company. Learning about the real reasons of our sudden departure, she agreed that taking Lok and Sophie would be inconvenient. She also tried to convince us to stay as well for some time, however, seeing Scarlet's exceptional perseverance, she admitted that keeping her company would be a good option. She promised to deal with Lok and Sophie's yapping by telling them that we just went to report to the Huntik compound managers in Ireland about our last encounter with the Organization. This should sound dull enough to keep the kids away. We weren't obliged to do it ourselves as at the time of our leaving, Lok was taking the next nap to make up for the sleep he lost because of Dante's early wake and Sophie had just locked herself in the bathroom to take care of her sophisticated looks. Thanks to that, we sneaked out unnoticed, followed by the worried Mrs. Lambert's advices and prescriptions to take care of ourselves, and, for Cathy, to give us a safe lift. Yeah – she offered to drive us to the Milltown station, without pointing out how much the gasoline costs. Those Lamberts are really from a different world.

If I was in a better mood, during the drive, I'd probably focus on my surprise what a pain in the ass we caused for Cathy. I don't say it only out of concern – you know I'm not that kind of person, and showing the others my favors is not my kind of thing. I just think she fell a victim of her own generosity. She seems to be a person who enjoyed chatters and telling anecdotes, however, she took on a very taciturn and moody group of passengers. At first she tried to entertain us vividly with tales from college and summer courses. Unfortunately, no one even pretended to be interested. Scarlet looked out the window or into the rear mirror to see Dante, regretting that she wasn't sitting next to him. It was me who got honored by that dubious pleasure – and I'm not very happy with that, as I have to act as if I didn't notice his guilty stares, thrown at me by his German shepherd-like eyes. However, I'm quite skilled at it, so it's no big deal. It'd be worse to tame myself next to Scarlet, I guess. Since Cathy had turned the radio on to drown the awkward silence, Byrne keeps crooning a simple melody, drilling into my eardrums; much to my annoyance, the yellow wisp still stings my eyes, lying on her lap and stroked by her pale fingers as if it was her favorite cat's fur. If I were Cathy, long time ago, I'd throw Scarlet out of my car right among the most uninhabited area of the meadows. And stuff the flowers down her throat. Cows have to eat a lot of greenstuff. But I guess she's too nice to do so anyway.

Good thing there were more things to occupy my stare once we entered Milltown. Quite a pleasant place, even if too quiet and plain for me, a city dweller to the bone. You know, it's a town looking best on the idyllic photos for local newspapers, but hard to live in if you want to make a career. No offence, just saying.

Ouch! I hiss hitting my head against the headrest of Cathy's seat. What's up, dear fate? I got punished anyway for just thinking nasty things!? Is that fair?!

'Sorry', Cathy smiles to me apologetically. 'That's why I failed my first driving exam.'

No wonder, I wince touching a bump on my head.

'Well, here we are', Cathy nods at the train station visible behind the window. 'I guess Scarlet will manage to guide you from here.'

'Of course I will', Byrne shows her stunning teeth in a wide grin. 'Thanks, Cathy. Come on', she says to us, unstraping herself. 'Let's not waste our time.'

Yeah, right. What else am I doing since morning? I trot outside the car to get my backpack from the trunk. Strangely, when I lift it, it feels heavier than before. I check if there's something additional inside and notice a lot of packages wrapped in a silver foil. I raise my brows in a questioning manner.

'Mom couldn't resist and prepared you some sandwiches', Cathy explains. 'Just in case you get hungry.'

I nod, biting my lower lip. The weight of my luggage is not my concern. Here comes the part I really detest; maybe that's why I feel like Atlas overwhelmed by the weight of the world.

Cathy sighs the same time I do. I throw her a surprised stare and see her exchanging it.

'Good luck, Zhalia', she whispers. 'You'll really need it.'

I'm too surprised by a sudden reciprocation of my impressions that I don't give her half-smile back. She gets discouraged by my lack of reaction and with a short, embarrassed 'Bye', she comes back to the old ford. I observe the car starting and creating clouds of dust as she leaves. Was I a victim of a lesbian hitting-on? Given Cathy's recent break-up, it seems way more believable than me having something in common with another girl for the first time in my life.

I've always been surrounded by men; I mean those people who really mattered, not an orphanage manager or some female Suits I met few times during the Organization trainings. I guess that it was mostly my merit that I didn't have a good contact with any of them, despite sharing the same fate. I've never been interested in them. They always seemed weak and stupid to me, like dense tools. They didn't have any style, class and attitude I respected and admired so much. I've never wanted to be one of them, a brainless puppet who lets the other pull her strings. I repulsed them due to a mask put on to hide my real origins: of a stuck-up brat who felt more worthy than anyone else. Maybe sometimes I really did, knowing that they were only mere cannon fodders while I was someone special; a favored pupil of Klaus, a prodigy undergoing a special training, destined to fulfill extraordinary, spectacular task. I was really attracted to the male world. I desired the power they held. I wanted to resemble them, to imitate their behavior. To be strong, perceptive, unmoved by emotions. I didn't understand why Klaus, despite being proud of my determined attitude, insisted on me not to neglect the feminine part completely. If I only knew where those preparations would lead to… If I only had a slightest clue that regardless of my views on the bright future, I'd go through the fate I despised so much… That it'd get sealed during the night in the hotel room…

After that, I stopped admiring men. I saw their darkest side. I found them disgusting, lecherous, mobilized by their physiological needs, weak-minded and big-headed. There's nothing else in this world I detest so much. But sometimes… just for few moments in a while… I wish to be one of them. The one who takes, not the one who gives. That's why I'm still here. To show men they can't manage without me. Imagine the top male operatives in my shoes! Them dealing with Dante the way I do! Ridiculous! Only I have the power to bring him to his knees. And that's why, in some way, I'm even more powerful than the Professor.

'Zhalia, you coming?', Scarlet asks me with a slight reproach when the car vanishes in the distance.

I snarl, bristling like a furious cat. I turn on my heel, suddenly filled by a perverse, twisted energy and satisfaction. What a shame that before I take my rightful position, I have to act as the carrot's minion! I swear it will change.

Soon. Very soon.

The same day, 15:11

Carrowkeel

County Sligo

Ireland

The weather had changed. The sky had cleared and wind had died away, letting the beams force its way. However, Dante didn't think it was a good sign. The sun was giving people a real roasting. The air, sticky, blistering, made it hard to breathe. It felt like inhaling a boiling tar, filling the lungs and loading them with heavy grease. He felt his clothes gluing to his body again and restraining his moves like a cocoon of wet, sweaty fabric. Soon, he had just throw off his sweater, but the T-shirt seemed like too much nevertheless. However, the heat wasn't his major problem.

He just felt troubles under his skin.

He couldn't describe that feeling. It was like an itch coming through his veins; like an impulse shooting through his brain and forcing it to be in overdrive, to record every single suspicious detail. He'd be glad if there would be one justify his discomfort, however, he couldn't find nothing particular. The whole place seemed… strange. Of course, he knew that burial grounds hadn't been supposed to bring pleasant impressions, but he wasn't really a superstitious person who got wired by stories about ghosts and mysteries of the dark death rituals. He just couldn't hold back a feeling that the place was too calm. Too still. Even the grass stopped moving, there was no sign of any living creature and every single step sounded like an avalanche in the overwhelming silence.

He couldn't understand how the girls stayed oblivious to this. What's with that famous women's intuition? He guessed it got befuddled by other stimulants. Scarlet seemed lost in her own thoughts, looking around in awe and humming the continuation of the last song they had heard in Cathy's car, and Zhalia, like always, was too busy expressing her discontent by making a grimace and throwing irritated glares left and right. Did she really had so much strength to waste? Well, changing her fierce blouse for the usual, subdued one, suitable for incognito missions, didn't chasten her temper at all. And she had wondered why he didn't want to take her! He knew she wouldn't like it and wanted to save her the suffering by Scarlet's side. And any other inconvenient events that might have shaded that problem…

Until then, everything had been going smooth, though. Each of them had a map printed from the Foundation database, in case one of them got lost, but only Scarlet didn't really need it. For Dante, the pillars and megaliths couldn't be distinguished from each other; however, Byrne passed by the cairns and didn't mistake the way despite their similarity, looking for the particular one with proficiency. It was obvious she was used to such trips; no wonder if she studied ethnology.

'What are we exactly looking for?', Zhalia broke the silence, a bit annoyed by weaving their way among the ancient monuments without any logical reason.

'I wish we could find the Heapstown Cairn', Scarlet responded. 'This was the site of the battles between the Tuatha Dé Danann, the ancient gods of Ireland, and the demonic Fomorians. I've read a 16th century manuscript describing it…'

'Oh yeah', Zhalia snarled. 'You've READ about it. It makes me feel way more confident.'

'I will know it is the right place once I see it', she assured them. 'Don't worry.'

Dante nodded, giving her an encouraging stare. It was not the best moment to scold her that she had dragged them into all of this and was supposed not to put their patience to the test. Good thing Dante had learned to wait. Otherwise he wouldn't have survived by the newbies' side.

He looked at the horizon and squinted his eyes a bit when a flash of light hit his eyes; the sunbeams had gotten reflected in the quartz speckles, which spotted the stones of Bricklieve Mountains, visible in the distance. From here, they looked as if they were covered in glittery sequins. No wonder their name meant 'The Speckled Mountains' in Irish.

'Here it is!', Scarlet shouted. 'I recognize it!'

Her face beamed with pride and joy as she pointed forward, showing them the stony rise in the green hollow. She hurried down the hill, heading to the rocky entrance of the tomb and almost tripping when her feet started to stuck in the mushy moss.

'Careful!', Dante shouted, coming down way more slowly and cautiously, seeing the bumps on the ground; sliding down one of them would end up with a limb in a plaster cast. He turned to Zhalia and reached his hand out to her to help her. She raised one brow.

'Better take care of your girlfriend', she commented chillily. 'You will be the one to carry her if she breaks her leg.'

'Scarlet's not my…', he rolled his eyes, but Zhalia ignored him and jumped gracefully onto the grass few meters lower. Maybe it was Featherdrop's merit, but she landed like a cat, with unusual efficiency, accentuating the appealing smoothness of her body lines. He shook his head and followed both of the girls, using Hyperstride to catch up with excited Scarlet.

She was already brushing her fingers across the stones surrounding the cave with amazement, examining the markings with fascination. She was about to go inside, but Dante caught her by the shoulder.

'Wait', he ordered her, reaching out the golden-green amulet. 'Better check the area first. Solwing!', he called.

The falcon's emerald energy looked as if It got materialized from the clover growing densely in the region. He made a full circle above Dante's head, enjoying the flight. He didn't mind the mustiness, as Titans were unaffected by human stimulus. Vale let him play in the air for a moment, then he calmed him and asked to check the cave. The bird was reluctant, as the open fields appealed to him way more than the tomb, but his owner's feelings, transmitted through the Rapport-bond, chastened his own enthusiasm a bit. He flew into the cave and disappeared for few minutes. Then he came back and landed on Dante's shoulder, assuring him the area was clear.

'Alright', Vale nodded, but didn't discharge Solwing, just in case. 'I'll go first.'

The girls accepted; Scarlet with gratefulness, Zhalia with an ironic face telling: 'Oh, what a surprise.' She couldn't see his inner battles, though. He wondered how to split himself in two and watch their front and back in the same time. As he entered the cairn, he had a strange feeling that something bad would happen right behind him. He checked the group order and got a bit relieved. As he had seized the leading position, Zhalia kept an eye on the end. They instinctively took Scarlet, the weakest spot in their formation, between them to have an opportunity to shield her if needed. However, she quickly broke off their protection, approaching the walls and gasping with shock.

'I can't believe it!', she slid her finger through the spiral pattern, ornamented with flat whitish parts. 'It's exactly like in the Robert Lloyd Praeger's report about the first Carrowkeel entry! There beads of stone, bone implements made from Red Deer antlers…', she whispered.

'Fine, fine', Zhalia interrupted her. 'Just get down to work. I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life here. I guess the residents wouldn't be pleased with a new flatmate', she threw a wry joke, however, it didn't amuse Dante at all. It wasn't the best place to make jokes about death. Let alone all the superstitions about the revenge of the dead, but… there was always a risk something else would make them stay in the stuffy, cold tombs forever. A cave-in, for example. Another unfortunate accident. Or a well-thought-out, cunning ambush…

He twitched when Solwing's feathers brushed his cheek as suddenly the falcon flashed through the chamber. Dante looked around and noticed the object of the Titan's interest: a small rodent plastered to the wall and crawling to get to the surface. However, it seemed it wouldn't manage, as Solwing's claws were just few centimeters away from its body.

'Solwing, stop!', Dante managed to choke out, shocked by the witnessed view. He had never seen a Titan lashing at a living creature without a reason – an order from their Seeker or to protect him from an unexpected attack. But just like that?! Impossible! The Titans, even those similar to real-world animals, weren't supposed to act like predators! Apparently, Solwing did, though. He didn't listen to Dante's call and dashed at the rodent like a lightning; shortly after, a loud squeal filled the air, raising the short hair on the back of the man's neck.

'What are you doing?!', he yelled at Solwing, jumping to him as the bird landed on the stone, holding the prey in his claws. The rodent struggled in the cage of the falcon's talons, desperately fighting for its freedom.

'What is that?', Scarlet asked, approaching them and leaning to the animal. 'A field mouse, maybe?'

'Oh, just leave that', Zhalia snarled. 'I thought we're Seekers, not zoologists.'

Just like her, Dante thought that the whole event, mostly Solwing's behavior, was more important than distinguishing the rodent, but he examined it more attentively nevertheless, which wasn't so easy due to the prey's lashing around. In close-up, it looked more like a weasel, with its triangular muzzle and long, reddish body, however, it lacked the white patch on the belly and was embodied with ear tufts and a flossy, auburn tail, resembling a squirrel. However, any squirrel species known so far didn't have horns on its head.

'A Titan', Dante realized immediately but his voice got drowned by Solwing's sudden cry. The squirrel-like Titan bit his abdomen and freed itself from the enemy's strong grip.

'Boltflare!', Dante shouted, but collecting Solwing's energy to the amulet and firing the spell at the same time didn't work; the light sphere missed the Titan by an inch as the creature, once it landed on the floor, tensed its muscles and lunged at the first person it saw.

Scarlet screamed piercingly when her power shield, flickering faintly and too weak due to haste, failed her and the Titan fell onto her face, scratching it violently and reaching to her eyes, though she tried to push it away. As dealing with the attacker with spells was out of question, Dante rushed to tear it off her face. However, he felt the animalistic being stuck itself to the girl's flesh with the whole set of needle-like claws and was afraid of pulling too hard not to rip her whole skin off.

Zhalia didn't have such reluctances.

'Touchram!', she shouted, blowing the attacker (and Dante's hand, almost, as he took it away in time) off Scarlet's face. The mad squirrel hit the wall, turning into a band of muddy-green energy. It flowed into the tunnel mouth behind the operative Moon. Dante tensed and made a step forward, then some more, slowly approaching the corridor. However, as he noticed a move in the dimness, he speeded up. He saw a shadowy figure about to disappear in the depths of the tomb, but he managed to stop it with accurate Raypulse. The person tripped and fell down, spilling around a lot of goods clattering in contact with the ground stones. Dante lit Boltflare in his hand, prepared to use it as a bullet if needed, and stood above the mysterious guy. In the gleaming flame, he noticed a high forehead crowned by short, fiery red hair and two small eyes squinted and burning in fury. The man's expression resembled a wolf's muzzle, contorted and craggy due to the rage he tried to suppress. Dante had seen too many faces like this one not to recognize it.

'You're an Organization goon, aren't you?', he growled.

Surprisingly, the guy answered with a smirk.

'Good guessing', he responded spitefully. 'You won a blow job.'

Before Dante caught the double meaning of that joke, the man revealed it to him fully, pressing a red button on the device strapped to his belt. A frightening explosion shook the whole cave, knocking them off their feet. Before Dante regained balance, the Organization bruiser jerked up like a wild animal and kicked him out the tunnel, right into the twister of falling rocks. Pain after the blow right into the abdomen blinded Vale, for a moment, his body urged him just to lie here paralyzed and fight for a breath, but the clamor of the destroyed chamber quickly roused him to action. The vibrations of the ground made it hard to stood on his feet again, however, he desperately tried to make his way through the wreck, pushing himself to the limits despite the itch of his cells. He crawled among the stones, avoiding the bullets raining from the ceiling. Few of them almost crushed his head. The noise deafened him; if he didn't fall onto Scarlet, he'd never hear her screaming. He barged her to the wall and casted Overshield over their heads, then turned around, trying to catch a move behind the lasting shower of the heavy blocks.

'Zhalia!', he tried to outshout the din; though his midriff hurt from the effort, he himself barely heard his own voice. 'Where is Zhalia?!'

Scarlet didn't answer, just shook her head, trembling, bundling and covering her ears in terror. Dante quickly get she wouldn't be much help. He blinked, trying to clear his vision off the speckles covering his lashes and pierce the bluish flashes of the barrier resisting the stone bullets, but it didn't help much; he couldn't see anything… anyone…

'Zhalia!', he yelled at the top of his lungs and was about to jump again into the storm of boulders but he got perched in place, pulled by the duster. He struggled and finally slid from the cloak, leaving it in Scarlet's hands, about to search desperately for the third member of the party, but suddenly fell back when an impact threw him onto the wall. Those two combined efforts saved him from being crushed by a large boulder, which resembled a dot to the i's.

After that, everything went silent finally. The brownish dust started to cover everything in a thick layer of dirt, falling down as gracefully as a dark snow. It looked as if nothing had happened. If not only the floor crushed in half by the boulders and the angular wall separating them from the left part of the tomb… No third body around, not a sign of anyone pulling herself together after the cave-in…

'No', Dante mumbled in fear, barely moving his numb lips.

The same day, 15:35

Carrowkeel

County Sligo

Ireland

I cough and spit, trying to clear my mouth off the dust; tears come down my cheeks, washing away the speckles stuck under my lids. My body trembles violently when I lie on my back, paralyzed, unable to stand up. Everything in me shakes, as if the explosion occurred both outside and inside me. What the f*ck was that?! A local attraction for bored tourists?!

I make an effort to lift my tense body up, using my hands as a pry. However, when I lean them on the surface, I state that it's not made of stone, as I thought. It's soft. Supple. And surprisingly warm. I strengthen the grip which results in a moan in my ear.

'Damn, babe', a hoarse male voice says, 'I'm eager to continue, but it's not the position that gets me wired the most.'

And then I realize that it's not SOMETHING I lay on. It's SOMEONE. And I'm actually touching his crotch. It's not the first time in my life, though. When I jump onto my feet and get plastered to the wall with my back, lightening the chamber with Boltflare, I realize I know that man. Down to the… ekhem… boner.

'Ryder', I choke out with my eyes wide open.