Once Jonathan finishes his call, Rose wipes her greasy fingers on a napkin and holds out her hand for his phone, and he gives it up without even needing to ask her what she wants. She slips off the back and pops out the battery as he watches her without protest. Without comment. She's prepared for arguments, for questions, for him to take back his property the second he realizes what she's doing and then leave her here alone— But he doesn't, not even when she pockets the phone and battery instead of returning them.
The inaction—the allowance—tells her more than even his resigned expression does.
"Patchouli insisted on coming to meet us," he says mildly as he picks up a piece of pizza and wraps the trailing string of melted cheese around its tip. "She's going to try to call me back at some point."
"Better she doesn't get an answer and wonders than someone like 42 tracks us," Rose counters, and Jonathan—his mouth full now—simply nods as if he'd expected this. "If we have to meet her halfway, is it at least somewhere public?"
"It's not even halfway." He sounds apologetic now. "Apparently an old flame from college looked her up the other week and asked to reconnect, and she thought my call now was—" He breaks off with a grimace. "Anyway, she says she'll trade me keys when she sees us. We can crash at her place, and she'll crash at ours. She knows our house like the back of her hand, so she'll be fine." He takes another bite, larger this time, and it seems like he's crammed half the slice into his mouth.
Rose frowns, and not because Jonathan offered no such assurances about them navigating his sister's house. It makes her wonder how often he visits before dismissing the idea; if his daughter is the American Dragon, the protector would wish to limit her time away, at least if that time away is not spent training elsewhere. The argument would only go so far—the American Dragon (Haley) is still very much a child—but Rose is all too familiar with the sacrifices one makes as a child in pursuit of a higher calling.
She remembers the guilt, too, of doing something for the pure enjoyment of it when she should be—could be—doing something else.
She's feeling guilty now, too.
Leaving—even when she knows it's for her own good—feels so much like abandoning Jake.
But she's not.
Jake's with his mother.
Rose can't make him any safer. With the Huntsclan after her for defecting, she'll only put Jake in more danger.
"How long is this going to take?" she asks as Jonathan takes a bite of his crust. The idea of sitting somewhere and waiting makes her antsy. There are so many things that can go wrong—
Jonathan's smile turns apologetic, and Rose resigns herself to a long night.
A crowd is a great place to try to hide in plain sight.
Rose knows this.
This knowledge, unfortunately, does not protect her.
Or, more to the point, it doesn't protect Jonathan once 32 realizes he's with Rose.
32's not in uniform, and Rose can't see the knife she surely has pressed to Jonathan's back, but he's too tense, standing too still, and if he's making any attempt at masking the sheer terror on his face, he's failing miserably. He's holding his travel mug with both hands now, but that doesn't disguise his tremors. They'd moved from the bench by the wall where they'd sat to finish their pizza because she'd felt it too exposed, and now—
Now, it looks like they would have been better off if she hadn't suggested moving at all.
Logically, Rose knows that's not true. Chances are very good that 32 hadn't found them by pure happenstance even if she were assigned this area to search. Had they still been on the bench, they would have been sitting ducks, and they would have—literally—had their backs up against the wall.
Rose still feels like her back is against the wall, and not in a good way. This isn't an advantageous position she's chosen so no one can stab her in the back. Rather, she feels like she's been backed into a corner, and she hates it.
She balls her hands into fists but doesn't reach for a weapon. She's still wearing Jonathan's coat, for all the good that did her, and though she'd transferred some of what she'd need to fight to the pockets of his coat, she doesn't want to risk palming a weapon now. Even if she can get the knife away from 32 without Jonathan being hurt, it'll just draw attention she can't afford. Penn Station is busy enough, even at this time of night, and she doesn't want this to catch the attention of security or anyone else any more than 32 would. Rose might already be compromised, but she doesn't need to make things worse.
Still, it takes more effort than it should to keep her voice steady once she trusts herself to speak. "What do you want?"
32 snarls, but at least she's quiet about it. "What do you think I want?" The words are flippant, but there's a sharpness beneath them that isn't normally there. "Everyone knows what you did to 18."
Rose doesn't wince, but the words still sting. "She challenged me." Whatever happened to 18 after that was a risk 18 was willing to take, something 32 would know better than most.
32 bares her teeth in something no one should be foolish enough to mistake for a smile, least of all Rose. "She tried to take down a traitor."
"I'm not a traitor," Rose says, because even though she is, she's not about to admit it to 32. "It was a misunderstanding. I was sent on a mission to retrieve 99 when 18 interrupted me with her challenge."
Jonathan lets out a hiss, and Rose suspects the knife was pressed deeper into his flesh.
"That wasn't a misunderstanding," snaps 32. "You might have been sent to retrieve 99, but that was your chance to admit what you knew and had been withholding. He's been meeting with someone outside the Huntsclan, and it seems I've found proof that he wasn't the only one."
Jonathan clears his throat. "If I may?"
"Don't," Rose warns. Whatever he says, it won't help.
"No," 32 contradicts immediately, "you can talk. Go on."
"It's just—" Jonathan stops, maybe because Rose is trying to glare him into silence and he's actually taking the hint. She's almost ready to relax when he says, "I'm 99's father."
Rose curses, and she doesn't care who hears her.
"We thought he was dead," Jonathan adds, as if that'll help now that he's pushed the situation into a spiral that's far beyond Rose's control. Not that she'd had much control in the first place, but she doesn't have a semblance of it at the moment, let alone hope of gaining some. "I don't know where he is now, but when I found out Ro— When I found out she knew him," he says with a nod to Rose, "I hoped she could take me to meet the family he grew up with. We hadn't met before tonight."
From the look on 32's face, she doesn't entirely buy the story, but she must decide it's plausible enough as something Rose might have fed to Jonathan because she doesn't do anything that would cause Jonathan more pain. Instead, she says, "Hate to burst your bubble, but 93 over there clearly wasn't taking you to 99's family."
Rose lets out a slow breath, but she's not truly surprised she no longer has the title of Huntsgirl. Not beyond being Huntsgirl No. 93, anyway. 18 might not have it either, depending on what had happened after Rose left. 32 certainly won't tell her, but Rose can at least be confident it isn't her; she'd be rubbing it in Rose's face if it were. Maybe it hasn't been officially awarded to anyone else yet? If 18 didn't win it outright, 32 might think she still has a shot at it. That would explain her apparently being out without a partner; if she has one, they aren't in the station with her.
"I can, though," adds 32, and Rose feels a stone drop into her stomach. Jonathan is human—his being taken to the Huntsclan is hardly as dangerous as it could be—but that doesn't mean it's a good idea.
At least he told 32 that he's 99's father and not the father of the American Dragon. He might be more valuable to them as the father of the American Dragon, but that value wouldn't come without torture. At least this way, the questioning will be comparatively mild, and they might release him instead of deciding he's a security risk and acting accordingly.
Of course, if the Huntsclan knows about Jake's meetings with his mother, they might also have learned about his true nature, in which case they'll find Jonathan valuable indeed. Even once they determine he isn't a dragon, they'll know he's married to one, and dragons aren't a common magical creature in the NYC. It won't be hard for the Huntsclan to connect Jonathan to the American Dragon.
Rose really wishes she knew what was on that footage 18 had mentioned. If it's only Jake's meetings—or even one of those meetings—then it hardly merits 18's conviction that Rose knew, but then again, it's 18. Spreading a nasty rumour like that to try to damage Rose's reputation is second nature to her, and Rose is close enough to Jake that no one would question gossip like that. But if there's even a hint about Jake's dragon nature—
"You will?" Jonathan somehow manages to look delighted, and Rose thinks for a moment that maybe he is a better actor than she gave him credit for.
32 locks eyes with Rose, and this time, the smile on her face is genuine and full of smug victory. "If you both come quietly and do what I say. Otherwise…."
"Of course," says Jonathan, not letting 32's unspoken threat hang for even a heartbeat, but Rose doesn't expect him to say anything else now. He might not know enough to try to keep himself out of danger, but he does know enough to want to keep his sister out of it. Rose can appreciate that.
It doesn't make 32's grip on the situation feel any less suffocating, though. Rose doesn't know how to regain control, and she's supposed to be better than this. She's not supposed to let situations get away from her. She's supposed to be the one holding the lead, pulling things into place so gently some people might miss what she's doing entirely.
Instead, it feels like there's a rope around her neck, but rather than tugging her into place, it's tightening, and she can't—
She can't—
"Fine," growls Rose, and 32's expression brightens with the confirmation of her triumph.
32 doesn't have them get onto a train, instead shepherding them outside to take a longer route. Rose isn't sure if she's hoping to exhaust them, to confuse Jonathan by heading to their headquarters via one of the hidden entrances somewhere else, or to meet up with someone else so she has backup. The last makes the most sense to Rose, but 32 doesn't always choose the option that makes the most sense to her.
It's annoyed her in the past in training and in the field, but Rose had always preferred missions with 32 over missions with 18. She trusted 32 to put the mission first when it was just the two of them, but she never trusted that 18 wouldn't stab her in the back at the first opportunity. Knowing 32 would take 18's side if that ever happened as readily as 23 would had never been a comfort, but Rose had always been happier knowing she couldn't fully trust them than she would have been trusting them and finding that trust betrayed.
Jonathan chatters as much as 32 lets him, but fortunately he says a lot without really saying anything at all.
Rose doesn't pay much attention to the conversation, admittedly; she's preoccupied with trying to figure out 32's plan. Jonathan's already made it abundantly clear that he loves Jake—or at least the idea of Jake, of him being alive instead of ashes—without knowing him, though Rose thinks he'd love Jake as Jake regardless, but 32 wasn't born with the Mark. She won't feel the visceral contradiction of that inside her, won't be caught up in the how and the why and the kneejerk reaction of this can't be true even when it clearly is. She might not see Jonathan as anything more than someone who needs to be convinced (or dealt with if they cannot be convinced) that exposing the Huntsclan's existence to the broader world, and thereby increasing the likelihood of compromising their hidden position within the magical world, is not something to be done.
It is not something to even be considered.
Rose is still convinced most of their recruits don't know what they're signing up for—88 and 89 are grand examples of that—but she knows the appeal of power and protection that convinces people to stay once they do find out what being part of the Huntsclan truly means.
32 won't want to risk Jonathan compromising that, and Rose can at least hold on to a sliver of hope that 32 might believe Rose was trying to do the same: protect the Huntsclan from Jonathan by leading him elsewhere. Different methods can come to the same end, after all.
Of course, with 32 believing Rose to be a traitor, it'll be an uphill battle to convince her, and 32 isn't the one she most needs to convince.
She needs to convince the elders.
But even if she can convince the elders, can Jonathan?
Is there enough time to try?
Jake won't be able to outrun the Huntsclan forever. Rose knows that, even if she doesn't want to admit it aloud. They'll find him eventually. They find everyone eventually. Chances are good they found Rose through cameras she wasn't adept enough to avoid and sent 32 after her; Jake will face similar hurdles, and it'll come to the same end unless he decides to stop running and turn himself in.
Would he, just to end this?
She doesn't want to think so, but she doesn't know what he knows. If he found out about the footage 18 mentioned, if it's even half as damning as 18 implied—
Tears prick at Rose's eyes in response to the sudden ache in her chest, and she fruitlessly tries to swallow down the lump in her throat even as she tries to tell herself it's foolish to grieve when she doesn't even know anything for certain.
Jake can survive this.
Somehow, he will find a way to survive this.
If the Huntsclan had already captured him, 32 would have used it as leverage to get Rose to come with even less fuss than she had.
Jake's still out there. He's still free. Rose can't help him stay that way as long as possible, but even if she's compromised, even if there's more than a few whispers going around that she's a traitor, there's a chance she can still help his father.
Not until they get there, though, and if she's right—
32 gives her a sharp shove to the left, and Rose stumbles, hissing through the flare of pain that runs through her at the rough contact. Jonathan's there to steady her almost immediately, but 32 is watching with sharp eyes. "Inside," she barks when Rose doesn't move. "We're going down the stairs."
Down the stairs. Rose glances around even as Jonathan complies, though getting her bearings earns her another none-too-subtle push from 32. She sees enough to orient herself, though, and following Jonathan inside only confirms it. This is the Huntsclan's closest entrance to Central Park, which means they'd passed guards Rose had been too preoccupied to spot. At least, the entrance is never unlocked and unguarded, and she hadn't seen 32 do anything to open the door.
Rose is starting to regret eating as much as she had—her nerves are hardly helping her keep a settled stomach—but if she hadn't eaten and rested as Jonathan had insisted, she wouldn't have the energy to run, and she's going to need it.
To Rose's knowledge, 32 hadn't reported in about finding her, but Jake is the bigger fish and they both know it. The search isn't going to be called off while he's still out there. But just because 32 didn't report in, it doesn't mean the guards they must have passed didn't report in, and even if they didn't, someone is surely checking the cameras here. The Huntsclan will know that 32 was successful in getting her (and Jonathan, if they know who he is) to an entry point. They'll be checking the cameras en route, so if Rose disappears, they'll be able to narrow down where she is even if 32 can't.
But Rose doesn't need to disappear forever.
She just needs a head start.
She finds Jonathan's hand and squeezes it. He returns the gesture before she pulls away, and she hopes it's enough reassurance that, however this goes, she's trying to help.
She can't ask him to trust her when 32's in earshot, but she doesn't need to.
He already trusts her more than she'd ever thought he should.
He'd trusted her even after she'd attacked him in the shop; he'll trust her now.
32 motions Rose towards the advertisement on the wall, and she stands on tiptoe to press the first release. The separation between the thin frame and the wall behind it is miniscule at first, but by the time she's released the third mechanism, she can see a small but definite gap.
That's not all she can see, though.
She's also aware of the small figure watching them from the shadows by the stairs, and for a heart-wrenching second, she thinks it's Jake.
It can't be, though.
Jake would run.
At the very least, he'd do a better job of hiding than that.
The figure moves closer, and as they come into the light, Rose realizes it's 66. He must be stationed to watch this entrance, then. He'll close it behind them so they needn't trouble themselves with the mechanisms inside, but Rose doubts he'd show himself for no reason. Is he here to gloat? To congratulate 32 and try to get on her good side? Does he have more information?
He stops in the middle of the little hallway not five feet from them, and Rose realizes he's here for backup.
32's expecting her to run; she just doesn't know when.
That's fair, really.
Rose isn't sure when she's going to run, either. It'll be at her first opportunity, and clearly, 66 suspects that opportunity might come now.
If Rose runs now, though, 32 will follow her while 66 guards Jonathan.
Now is a terrible time to run.
Rose presses the final release and slides her fingers under the frame as it pops forward. 32 prods Jonathan closer, and he steps through the hole revealed behind the frame into the tunnel that's one of their primary passageways outside the main academy headquarters. Rose and 32 follow, and Rose turns back as the frame swings shut behind them, watching it close before she quirks an eyebrow at 32. The lamps lighting the tunnel are not so distant that 32 will miss the expression. "He thought you needed help," teases Rose.
32 scowls. "I don't need the help and he knows it. What he wants is for me to agree to go on a date with him."
Rose hums, and 32 kicks her. Rose's leg gives out beneath her as 32's foot connects, and Rose curses and takes a few seconds to compose herself. Healing potion or not, she's injured and she's weak; she can only pretend that weakness away when her body doesn't betray her.
Her leg is throbbing now, though, which will make running harder.
It's going to make everything harder.
Jonathan helps her to her feet and glares at 32. "She's already hurt. You don't need to rub salt into the wound."
"She hasn't gotten half of what she deserves," 32 shoots back, "and I know better than to trust her an inch."
Rose manages to turn her snort of laughter into a cough, because for all that 32 doesn't trust her, she didn't produce cable ties or anything similar in order to bind Rose's hands the moment they were on the grounds of the Huntsclan, and Rose would have done that—especially if she'd forced 32 to her knees the way 32 had forced her. 32 hasn't even searched her, which isn't a mistake Rose would have thought she'd make. Rose can understand 32 wanting to avoid doing anything too suspicious in public, but she's not using her time now like she should.
Frankly, for someone so keen to bring in a traitor, she isn't thinking. Too focused on the potential reward, maybe? Busy thinking she might try her luck challenging the new Huntsgirl to win the position for herself if it has already been awarded?
Whatever the reason, Rose can be thankful for small mercies.
"See?" Jonathan says as Rose lets her cough die off. She pulls away from him to lean against the wall. "She's not well."
"Good," bites out 32. "She shouldn't be well. Do you know what she did?"
Jonathan hesitates, and Rose prepares herself. She's not sure she'll get a better opportunity, and if Jonathan can distract 32…. "Well, I don't know details, I'll admit, but I know there was a fight—"
"A challenge is so much more than a fight," 32 starts, and Rose bolts.
Every step sends a new wave of pain up her leg, but she hopes it holds out long enough for her to get somewhere where she'll have a minute or two of privacy. Behind her, 32 gives a shout of surprise, and then another, and Rose doesn't look over her shoulder, but she imagines that she just heard the sound of Jonathan tackling 32.
Well, maybe not tackling her.
32 did have a knife, and Rose hadn't heard it fall. Something had, something beyond 32 and Jonathan themselves—maybe Jonathan's travel mug?—but whatever that something was, it hadn't skittered like a lost knife would have.
Whatever Jonathan did, it's buying Rose time she needs. She can't hear 32 following her yet.
Rose is panting by the time she sees the door she wants, a little maintenance hatch mostly used to access the electrical system. She opens it as quickly and quietly as she can, and once it's closed behind her, she's ducking and weaving her way through one of the more undesirable paths to a tight corner. She crawls into it and curls up, trying to control her breathing long enough to see if she can hear 32 following her.
Nothing yet, but Rose doesn't have the time to wait because she knows 32 won't be far behind.
Rose pulls the scrap of paper from her pocket, unfolding it in the dim light to stare at the numbers scrawled across it in messy pencil. A breath later, she's made up her mind and is slipping the battery back into Jonathan's cell phone. A dialled number, and then—
The phone rings, and Rose realizes she's holding her breath, so she lets it out slowly.
The phone rings again.
What if 32 catches her before she can explain?
It ri—
"Hello?"
"Spud?" It sounds like Spud, and she can't imagine he'd give her a false number when he'd been so open about wanting her friendship. "It's Rose." She'd hardly imagined calling him at all, let alone so soon, so she hadn't practiced what to say or how to say it. This already feels like a mistake. "Are you alone right now?"
"Yeah?" He sounds uncertain, but Rose is fairly sure it's because he can't fathom why she'd ask. "Ma sent me home when we closed, so I'm just in my room."
She might be lucky he's still awake. "Okay, good, I just…. I need…." Should she say I need? Will that make him feel obliged to agree with what she says? "I need help, but you need to know it's dangerous, so you don't have to—"
"Whoa, what's up?"
She takes a deep breath before saying, "I need you to hack into somewhere and wipe the files. All of them." She might not be able to take the Huntsclan down from the inside, but she can do a lot of damage with help.
"Sounds easy enough."
"It's not. If you leave any traces, you will be found, and I won't be in a position to protect you at that point. The safest option for you is definitely to tell me to take a hike. We just met; you don't have to stick out your neck for me."
He laughs. "It's cool. Unless you're asking me to commit treason, in which case it's not cool. Or is this whistleblowing on some super-secret government org—?"
"It's not related to the government," she cuts in before he can spiral off into a tangent. "It's the Huntsclan. They pose as a special academy, but it goes so much deeper than that."
"Never heard of them."
"You wouldn't have. I'm not even sure your mythobiology teacher would have, and he knows about the magical world."
"Rotwood? What does he have to do with this?"
"Nothing, hopefully. But he's right about the magical world. It's real."
There's a pause.
"Like…video game real, right?"
"Real real," she says, hoping the desperation in her voice is enough for him to take her at her word. She has no proof. If he thinks she's pulling his leg…. Well. If he does, he does. But until that's clear, she can still try to get his help. "My best friend is a dragon, and he's in trouble."
"Awesome! Not the trouble part. The dragon part. Does he—?"
"He's in trouble," she repeats, as there really isn't time for all of Spud's questions. Questions are better than denial, at least. They're certainly better than the dial tone she'd been expecting as soon as she'd mentioned dragons, if not the magical world. "And I'm in trouble."
"Are you a dragon, too?"
"No. I'm not part of the magical world." She's only been raised since birth to hunt those who are. "Look, I don't have much time to explain, but the Huntsclan isn't kind to magical creatures or to traitors, and what I'm trying to do might get me killed, but I have to try. If you help me, you'll be in danger, too."
"Don't worry; I got this. I'll do whatever you need."
His easy confidence makes her nervous—is he humouring her? Does he not believe her at all or at least not believe the part about the magical creatures? Does he think she's exaggerating when she says it's dangerous? Are her words simply not sinking in?—but Rose can't bring herself to tell him to forget about this. She needs the help, and if he's half as good as his stories, he'll be invaluable. Wiping the files, lowering the non-magical defenses, wreaking havoc on their communications….
It's not something she can do alone. She can't even accomplish half of that alone; she doesn't have the technological skills required to try. But Spud does, and if he's willing to help, she needs to trust that he can do what he says he can.
"Okay. Thank you." She closes her eyes, takes a beat to organize her thoughts, and then says, "Here's what you need to know."