Chapter Ten
—=—
Damian hardly realized his pencil had stopped when a flicker of movement caught his attention and Forger looked up to the right like she'd seen something that wasn't really there. She held it for a moment, eyeing something he couldn't see.
She was doing it again. Damian still wondered at it, but he'd left it alone since the lab seeing as Forger was so off lately. He was more concentrated on her well-being. There would be plenty of time to figure it out later.
So he told himself, but he itched to go looking into it.
Forger returned slowly to her books, not really looking at them. She'd been in a kind of daze all day and it was different than usual. Before, she was at least more aware of her surroundings and today she might as well have been blind and deaf to everyone around her. Blackbell had to nudge her in the ribs a few times in class to get her attention.
School was almost over and the teacher erased the lesson on the board, replacing it with homework assignments for the children to copy in their notebooks. Damian jot it all down and the class was dismissed. Everyone packed up and as Damian and his friends met the girls at the bottom, they headed out.
As they went through the halls, Damian absent-mindedly inserted a word or opinion on whatever they were talking about, though his mind wandered. It often did as of recently. About his father, about the lab, the nightmares, about Forger and his brother. Sometimes it felt like too much had happened to think about it properly, like his brain wasn't big enough to contain it all.
He suddenly wanted to see Demetrius.
As the kids walked out of the school, Damian, Ewen, and Emile spilt away from the girls as they headed in different directions. Forger went to her mother who appeared on the grounds, and Blackbell stopped to say hello.
It wasn't the first time that it made Damian wish, despite his father, that he lived at home with his mother. That maybe she might've come to pick him up at school sometimes too. It flit intrusively across his other thoughts and he shook his head. There was no point dwelling on it. He was too scared to go home again anyway, not while his father was there.
Damian glanced back at the girls once more before turning away. Since the lab, Damian couldn't see Mrs. Forger without remembering the blood-soaked clothes and the knife she'd pulled out of a dead body. She was a doting mother and Forger seemed to adore her, but whenever he saw her, it was like looking at a body with two people shoved into it. And one scared the crap out of him.
Forger's father wasn't much different. Damian might not have seen Forger's parents kill all those people, though he had definitely heard it. Their screams and guns occasionally played in his nightmares.
Damian sometimes had trouble believing that all that happened just because they'd had some training from a veteran.
He readjusted his school bag slung over his bag, wanting for the day that all this wouldn't bother him so much, leaving him free of bad memories and dreams that still shook him up and sent sweat down his neck.
It felt a long way off.
—
It was later than Demetrius would have liked when he escaped the gaggle of teenagers. They tended to stay a bit later after school to hang out and chat, sometimes study together. They often invited him to join, sometimes he accepted, and today he regretted it. Demetrius did enjoy playing with them. He had fun getting them hooked on his words and it was doubly satisfying when he had them going back on their own beliefs and ideals without them even realizing. A few words so twisted up that they didn't notice they had changed their views. It could be something stupid like what they thought of another person, their favourite player on their school's sports teams, or he could dig deep and make them question everything they thought they knew about themselves, their identity and personality, the way they saw themselves. The way they saw the world.
Those were particularly entertaining. Watching and listening to them flail as the little bubble they perceived the world through, popped. It was fine though. They would build another. Sometimes it was similar, sometimes completely different, and Demetrius would pop it again and again, sending the person into a scramble to establish a sense of identity or beliefs, but they couldn't. Not really. They would put on a front and none of it would be real. Inside, they were confused.
It was entertaining to watch.
But today, his desire for it wasn't there. He had been bored. Their little brains he usually found amusing and silly, were irritating and chafing. He wanted to leave and he did.
There were very few things that Demetrius enjoyed.
At least that was the case before.
Manipulating people, their feelings, their lives, used to be at the top of his list, bringing him distraction and a sense of enjoyment however fleeting it was.
Though not by far, it had fallen to lower standing.
Demetrius found himself wanting to spend time with Damian more and more often. He hadn't felt that before, wanting to be around a specific person. Just being with them, not toying, teasing, or using them for amusement and it had quickly become Demetrius' favourite thing to do. It wasn't anything special. He had no ulterior motive, he just liked hanging out with Damian. It gave Demetrius more peace and contentedness than he remembered ever experiencing. It was like a drug and he was getting addicted to it.
Demetrius paused on the side-walk on his way to the Forger's, realizing just how much he liked that feeling.
He kept going.
When he returned to the Forger's, Anya and Yor were home with Twilight nowhere to be seen. Demetrius glanced in the direction of Anya's room where she undoubtedly was, instantly reminded of his promise to Damian that he was trying not to think about.
Demetrius sat at the dining table and pulled out his books. He worked for a while, breezing through his homework and skimming over his notes. Most of it was already finished, having done it during classes and he shoved his books away from him. He leaned back against the chair.
It was habit at this point. Getting his homework and studying out of the way. Demetrius expected he could keep his number one placement with minimal effort. He'd never wanted to chance it at home before and now he thought about it. It didn't matter anymore even if his grades slipped. His father couldn't touch him.
Demetrius looked towards the hall where Anya had once again retreated, unable to put his promise to Damian out of his mind. He wished he'd never told him he'd help.
No, he didn't. Yes, he did.
Demetrius growled softly and shoved his chair back, standing. He went to fetch Anya's jacket from the coat rack and marched to her door. As usual, there was no answer when he knocked and he opened it. "Hey."
Anya blinked at him half-asleep where she rested against Bond, thrown into harsh light that made her lamp appear dim. Her face scrunched defensively at it.
"C'mon. We're going outside." Demetrius said.
"What?" She said hazily and rubbed an eye.
"Hurry up." He tossed the coat over her head. "Come to the door." Demetrius left to grab his own jacket and put his shoes on. Anya stepped just outside her bedroom, dragging the jacket behind her, and watched his fingers tie his shoelaces.
He switched feet. "What are you doing? Hurry up."
Like his words were waking her up, she blinked and sludged her feet forward.
Demetrius slung an arm into his jacket sleeve, then the other. Anya stuck her shoes on, taking forever to tie the laces, and he was already opening the door before her coat was on. He walked them down the complex's halls and stepped out through the front door of the building. He sat on the front steps and motioned for Anya to do the same.
After a moment of eyeing him strangely, she did. "Were not going someplace?"
Demetrius scoffed. "Are you kidding? Your parents would skin me alive."
"What are we doing, then?"
He shrugged. He was going purely on instinct.
Anya hugged her knees to her chest and watched the road in front of them as Demetrius leaned back on his elbows. He stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. No words were spoken between them and instead watched the sun slowly setting behind the buildings.
Despite Demetrius telling Damian he might be able to help Anya, his list of ideas was rather short. Besides giving Anya that lecture this morning, he had nothing else to say to her and giving her his time was all that he could think of.
This was not his area of expertise. This wasn't even his area of averageness.
He shouldn't have given Damian so much hope.
The two stayed there for a long time watching their surroundings being painted in warm colours and Demetrius realized he hadn't watched the sun set like this in a long while. He usually didn't have the time.
Anya stirred, setting her chin on her knees and at least she appeared more at ease.
Demetrius gave a small sigh.
He hoped getting through to her wouldn't take forever.
—-
It was dark when Twilight got home and asked Franky to look into Donovan Dempewolfe and his family members. Anya was in bed, Yor was in the kitchen, and Demetrius was sprawled on the sofa reading one of Anya's comic books. Demetrius didn't give Twilight the chance to speak to him about Donovan and said he already knew.
Sometimes it was unsettling to have two telepaths in the house.
When Twilight explained to Yor, they discussed how to proceed. Twilight couldn't visit Demetria again until Donovan did, for fear Twilight's visits would be revealed, and he needed more options.
The next day, as he got ready to drive Anya and Demetrius to school, he couldn't help looking at the phone, waiting anxiously for Franky to call back.
"We're gonna be late." Demetrius drew Twilight's attention back to the kids and they shuffled out of the complex and into the car. Twilight dropped them off at the school and parked somewhere out of the way. He'd rather drive Anya to school than let her take the bus after Yor's account of yesterday. Loid was prepared for an attack on him as well as he took a turn keeping vigilance on the roof.
Perched beside a window jutting out from the shingles, he checked for his pistol inside his jacket again as if it could suddenly disappear when he needed it. With all the trouble the Forgers had seen lately, he wanted it in his hands twenty-four seven, but that was impractical. He held up his binoculars instead and scanned his surroundings, ignoring the harsh glint the morning sunlight seemed to give everything.
The students had filed into the school not too long ago and over the next few minutes a rare straggler would speed for the school doors, panting heavily. Each time, Twilight would whip his attention to them before realizing it was a child. Twilight wasn't nervous, just hyper aware.
He was on the roof for hours, occasionally shifting positions and he raised his binoculars to once more look down below at the quiet school grounds. Yor had said her attacker was perched in a tree and he paid them special attention. He was wary of everywhere else, too, thinking the next person must be smart enough to find a better hiding spot. If whoever was trying to kill the Forgers made another attempt, he would be ready.
And he was.
He heard it first. Soft movement carefully quieted but not quiet enough for Twilight's trained ears. There was more than one. They weren't below, they weren't in a tree or dark crevice, but near, and padding along the opposite edge of the roof. They had arrived almost the instant he'd changed positions. Twilight kept still, discreetly pulling the silenced pistol from his jacket. Where had they been hiding? Could they have been on the top floor and climbed out through a window? How did they get there without him noticing?
They were coming closer and approached the peak of the roof that hid Twilight from their sights. Closer. Very subtle noises of footsteps and cloth brushing against cloth was Twilight's signal and he spun, shooting at two very surprised heads that ducked behind the ridge. He heard their safeties click off as he practically teleported to the next window and traveled silently up the roof. Before the agents saw him, he shot the man dead, a bullet burrowing into his large forehead and the body tumbled over the roof.
Crap! Twilight thought.
He abruptly dropped, sliding partway down the roof to dodge the woman's aim. Her bullet missed and Twilight had his gun at her right shoulder before she could shoot another.
Pew!
"Aaaggh!" Her gun dropped to skitter down the shingles and she clutched at her shoulder. Twilight's hands were already putting his pistol away and he jumped, slamming his knee into her stomach. She coughed, nearly puking, and might have slipped and fell to her death if she didn't grab the ridge of a window. Without losing a second, Twilight quickly came to straddle the ridge and put her throat in a chokehold. He kept it tight, preventing her hand from slipping between her neck and his arm.
"Who are you?!" Twilight hissed, containing his volume. "Why are you trying to kill us?!" The woman's hands initially grabbed at his arms, struggling, and Twilight's legs tightly contracted to adhere him to the roof. There was no way he was letting her go without answers. Or at all. "Who hired you?!"
"I'll say nothing." She strained and drew her knee up to withdraw a knife from her boot. Lightning fast, Twilight risked releasing one arm on the chokehold to forcefully knock it out of her hand before she could plunge it into his arm. He then wrenched her right hand off his arm and twisted the bad shoulder upwards.
"Gggnnh!" She growled deep in her throat.
"Tell me!"
With no hand left to keep Twilight from choking her out, her good arm returned to grasping at his. Half-lying on the ridge, her leg suddenly came flying up and her flexibility would have allowed a hit at his head if he didn't dodge. He did so sharply and used the momentum to swing her body over the left side of the window's roof. Her head was now held partially to his side and he leaned slightly away to balance out the weight. He yanked on her arm again.
"Ggnnh!"
"Tell me!"
For a brief second it seemed she would elbow him again, but she had no grip of her own on the roof. Without a hand to grab at Twilight's arm, she hung just by her neck. It was instinctive to reclaim the grasp on his arm though, and let go again to follow through. The hit was weaker and she immediately sought to lessen the constriction on her throat by clasping and digging her nails into his arm. She couldn't slacken his grip.
Again, he twisted her shoulder.
"Ggnnh!"
"Tell me!"
She was stuck. Her next elbow strike was even weaker than the last and her feet struggled to find purchase on the steeply slanted roof. Twilight wasn't letting go. She could elbow him as many times as she wanted and he would keep her in a chokehold until she talked. There was little air getting through her throat, she was injured, and Twilight was stronger. She wasn't getting out of this and she knew it.
Crack. Instead of words, the sound of something else came from her mouth. Something breaking. Her jaw bit down and a moment later, her body convulsed as foam spilled from her lips.
"No!" Twilight exclaimed, but there was nothing he could do. Veins pulsed on her tensed neck, blue rivulets delivering poison throughout her body and she groaned terribly at the pain through gritted teeth. Blood spit through them at her weak, oxygen deprived coughs and it went on for several minutes before the light faded from her eyes. Any answers she might have had was torn out of reach as she fell still with death.
She was dead.
She was dead and Twilight growled, draping her body over the peak, panting lightly as if he'd jogged up a flight of stairs. He took a couple breaths and ran a hand through his hair. She wasn't supposed to freakin die! He was so close to getting some answers!
He didn't find anything on her person and got up to see where the other agent landed below. The corpse had been damaged by the impact and blood flowed from more than the bullet wound.
Twilight swore. He had more clean-up to do than he expected. At least no one had seen the dead body yet. He needed to act fast.
He glanced back to the woman, already searching for answers.
She had killed herself. A hire wouldn't do that for a job. Who did they work for? Was this Donovan's doing? Was there someone else? Why would she sacrifice her life? What kind of information had she had?
Twilight double checked that his pistol was secure and took another quick look at the ground for the two stray ones.
He wondered what Yor usually did with the bodies she left in her wake.