Happy Holidays!

Chapter 13: Revelations

As if she was back in the castle again, Iris allowed herself ten minutes to fall apart. She gripped at a tree near the clearing in the cave, tears rolling down her cheeks, she clawed at the neckline of her dress, unbuttoning it frantically to give way for her oncoming panic attack. The peaceful silence of the forest interrupted by her hiccuping, heaving cries.

She'd made it out alive.

Not only alive but unscathed. No needles, no torture, nothing.

She was boring, another dud, a "lesser infected" as the woman had put it. The phrase was music to her ears.

Someone, or something, somewhere must've been looking out for her to have Miranda be so distracted by this "alternative approach" that would be luring her away from the village.

Pulling herself together, Iris started towards the path back home, highlighted by the moon. It was peaceful at night, even with the threat of Lycans ever lurking around the outskirts, she wondered if they'd bother her now that she too was infected, would they see her as kin? Another master?

As if summoned by her thoughts, a hunched shadow, sat like a gargoyle on the roof of the church, caught Iris's attention. The Lycan seemed small, skinny, clearly the villagers had gotten better at avoiding being eaten as of late. The beast made no attempt to move, neither did Iris in fear one sound from her, even the crunching of her boots on gravel, would send it rocketing towards her with teeth and claws.

In the dead silence of the night, staring up at the Lycan with her heart beating its way out of her chest, nerves frayed from the encounter with Miranda, Iris found herself imagining things. Imagined a pulsing energy coming from the beast, it's right shoulder to be exact. She focused on it, the energy it gave off a dull mockery of the show of power from Miranda. Squinting in the darkness she could see ghostly thin tendrils wrapped around the Lycan, even here, on the surface, under the light of the moon and stars, the Black God still had its grip over those it touched.

Iris slowly backed away from the church, eyes glued to the Lycan at all times, a crack of a stick under her boot startled it, teeth bared and claws bloodied as it launched itself from the roof, razor sharp teeth and fangs primed to slice her flesh to ribbons. Instinctively, Iris braced herself for impact, eyes screwed shut in fear, stained black hands out in front of her, they burned.

A yelp, the thud of a body hitting the ground.

Iris opened her eyes slowly, the Lycan was pinned to the floor by an invisible force, squirming and screeching. She stared at it's wild eyes, darting around trying to find it's captor, it's one free arm flinging around wildly.

She noticed it was the shoulder that the energy was radiating from that was pinned to the ground. Even now she could feel it, as if she was touching the Lycan herself. She noted her left hand was still raised, clenched tight and on fire with an awful prickling heat.

As a test, she jerked her fist to the left.

The Lycan was dragged across the floor.

Interesting.

With all the strength she could muster, Iris mimicked throwing something with her left hand. Simultaneously, the Lycan was wrenched from the ground and thrown back at the church, crashing into the wall, a wet crunch and faint sigh of a soul leaving its body.

Partly horrified, partly elated, Iris turned on her heel and ran, not looking back or paying any mind to what other Lycans may be lurking nearby. She hoped the scent of their mutant blood in the air would deter them from attacking herself or anyone else tonight.

When Iris made it back to the factory she punched the gate buzzer with a cry. She needed to tell Heisenberg everything.

Miranda was leaving, her powers were growing, everything they'd been working towards over her short stay at the factory was suddenly so much closer to being real.

"Shit you're-"

"Let me in!" Her voice was high pitched, squeaky with adrenaline. She'd killed that Lycan, without even touching it.

Would she be able to do the same to anyone infected by the Black God?

Could she kill Miranda without so much as lifting a finger?

The thought of such power made her head rush, she felt sick, she thought back to the Lycan dead at the church. What would the villagers think tomorrow when they saw him? Would anyone recognise the Lycan? For the person they really were, would they be thankful the beast was finally put out of its misery?

The gates screeched open, Iris ran through the scrap field as if her heels had wings, dodging the rusted metal as if she'd been crossing the yard for years. In the garage Heisenberg was already waiting, huffing and puffing as if he'd ran there. Iris barrelled towards him, unthinking she crashed into him, hugging him.

"She's leaving, She's going away, I killed a Lycan, I killed… I killed someone" Her words came out in a rush, suddenly everything felt too much, her face was wet, eyes burning, she couldn't breathe.

Heisenberg squeezed her tight, she felt lips pressed against the top of her head. For a stupid second Iris wondered if that counted as her first kiss, then decided that it definitely did not. He was shushing her and herding her to the kitchen, sitting her down, the kettle switching on automatically.

"Hey now none of that," His hands wiped her eyes and cheeks, it felt weird to feel skin rather than leather, she'd never really seen him without his gloves. "Now you, Missy, are going to calm down and tell your Boss everything that happened, ok?"

With a shuddering breath Iris began to relay Miranda's examination, her odd behaviour, distractedness. Heisenberg kept his gaze on her at all times, only breaking to pass her a hot cup of tea which Iris took gratefully.

"She seemed like her mind was elsewhere, she mentioned needing an alternative approach for her research… whatever that is, and is going away soon. And if I feel like anything has changed, you'll have her number to call."

Her boss watched her intensely, if Iris looked hard enough she swore she could see the cogs of his brain working at top speed, planning for any and every opportunity that would arise with Miranda away.

"There's another thing" She rushed in before he could start spewing orders, "A Lycan tried to attack me when I was heading back here, I killed it," "damn" "I was able to pin it to the ground, and threw it at the church. I think I know what my power is focusing on, it's the Cadou."

Iris leaned back, mulling over something that had become so normal, so routine back in the castle that she'd never really questioned it.

"You know, Dimitrescu loved me, I was her favourite maid. All because of my blood. She'd act drunk whenever she drank from me, would punish the other maids if they couldn't find me fast enough, I've still got the scar from where she'd bite." She knew the feeding wasn't news to Heisenberg, he must have seen it, felt it, when rubbing that cream Duke had given her all those months ago.

"It was horrible, the sucking noises, the pain, the nausea and fainting. My girls got so good at dragging me back to our quarters, seeing me act so 'dramatic' would put our Lady into the worst of moods… Maybe even then I was doing something to her Cadou… Boss, can that be a thing?"

A heavy hand landed on the scarred wrist, rubbing it over the sleeve of her dress in soothing circles.

"I'm sorry kid." His voice low and bone-tired, "Yeah sometimes, traits or skills you had as a human, they carry on with the infection. Moreau was a damn good fisherman, Donna and her dolls, and even the big bitch, she had some fucked up blood disease, that became well, you know"

If Iris knew any better, she'd swear the man sounded sad about the other Lords, even Dimitrescu.

"We need a plan, if Miranda is going anyway anytime soon she'll bring it up at the meeting on Thursday, until then we lay low, reduce production by 25%, clean up the top floors, Iris I want you to make sure all Haulers are restricted to the mines, you can even play with your powers just keep the rough-housing to a minimum."

"What? Why?"

"Why? Because Miranda doesn't leave. Never leaves. Not for longer than a day or two, whatever her plan is it's big and any sudden change in behaviour is dangerous. We do not have the time or power to get caught out right now. So keep quiet, keep in line, and do as I say." His grip tightened on her wrist, grinding her bones.

"Ok Boss." The grip lightened, but not fully, a heavy weight on her arm. Iris tried to ignore it, swigging more of her whiskey, the glass immediately refilled.

"Good."

Several refills later and Iris found herself hazily staring at her Boss, he was smoking yet again, puffing circles into the air, boots were on the table, coat off, white shirt half unbuttoned. She remembered being so distracted by his chest when she first came, how embarrassed she felt. She still felt embarrassed.

She still hadn't broached where she was going to sleep now that her "room" had been taken away.

Now or never she guessed.

"Boss… Where am I going to sleep tonight?"

"The bed? Obviously?"

"What…" She tensed, she knew this was going to go badly, but couldn't stop it, "Where will you sleep?"

He smiled. She hated that smile, the smile of a wolf, staring down at a stupid sheep that had walked right into its den. It had been the smile when he found out his chains had hurt her, the smile when he'd read her diary out loud as she begged and cried.

It was evil.

"The bed. Obviously."

It was a challenge. Or threat? Maybe the alcohol was making her paranoid, peering over the rim of her glass Iris attempted to seek out the man's Cadou. It was somewhere in his lower abdomen but the threads were everywhere, much more abundant than the Lycan. If she could see them properly, not this faint blurry mess of lines, her boss would be coated head to toe in thick black veins of the Black God.

She blinked, the threads disappeared. Her head felt fuzzy.

It didn't make sense for him to hurt her. Especially in bed. She was his maid, his assistant, his "machine gun".

Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but Iris liked to think she was his friend. He was hers.

But if he tried anything, she'd get him back. All those threads, so many opportunities.

His hand was still around her wrist.

"To sleep by the way," Iris focused back to reality, she'd been staring at him, her face went red hot and once again, the whiskey was drained from her glass. Her Boss winked at her. "Sorry to get your hopes up."

"No" Iris rushed up to follow her Boss, he cocked a mocking eyebrow.

"No? Oh sweetie I'm hurt. You don't think Ol' Heisenberg isn't attractive? Your friends back at the Castle certainly did… Or are you more into delicate maidens like the whale?"

"NO! It's… It's not like that I just want, I just want to sleep" Iris was surprised that her skin wasn't peeling away from the boiling heat in her cheeks. Her Boss was laughing, already leaving the kitchen.

In the bedroom, Heisenberg was already stripping away his shirt and necklace, a bundle of trinkets that Iris wasn't fully certain on the name/purpose of, but knew better to ask. She was thankful that he kept his trousers on.

"Well don't stare, you'll make me blush."

She skittered away to put on her own bed clothes, the dress would need further mending soon, sleeping on the floor in her old room had made it more stained and tattered than back at the Castle. When she re-entered the bedroom her Boss grimaced.

"I'll get you some real pyjamas soon, I promise."

"Real pyjamas? And what are they supposed to look like?"

The man looked at her with pity, and Iris suddenly felt stupid for not knowing such a simple thing. She'd go back through her diary, maybe somewhere she'd scrawled down something about pyjamas.

"It's a surprise."

He hopped into bed like a giant child, scooting to the side closest to the wall, patting the free space next to him. Iris tentatively joined. It was warm in the bed. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him, and wondered if this was normal, or a side effect of his electricity wielding powers.

"Stop thinking too hard, sleep."

With that, the lights went out.

Stiff as a corpse, Iris lay in the bed next to her boss, she tried to breathe as lightly as possible, as if she could make herself so still, so quiet she'd meld into the shadows of the factory. She wondered if her Boss could hear her thundering heart, sense her racing thoughts.

From the darkness, a warm hand found its home again, around her wrist. A gentle squeeze.

"Sleep."