Hey, guys. Since the question has popped up in my dms, I didn't want to withhold the answer from all of you:

I bumped up the rating to M for violence and triggering content alone.

This is not a smut fanfiction, there won't be any explicit sex scenes.

Thanks for reading Triskelion, enjoy this intermission chapter:

"Riordan." China Sorrows said, looking out the large window of her office. She often enjoyed looking over the city, not alone for a sense of accomplishment, as well as the sight alone; of snow glistening in the light of streetlights and windows at night. It helped her think.

"Yes, Ma'am." His voice appeared behind her.

"What is the update on the massacre of yesterday night?"

"Unfortunately, since all witnesses were either killed or entirely blindsided, there is not much to update on, Ma'am." Wayward told her. "I wish I had better news. We do have a witness in custody, from the last one, so there should be more tomorrow."

China nodded and swallowed the disdain coming up at that information. Wayward was not to blame, after all. He was not to blame, she would not snap at him, no she would not. "How about the attacker that fell? Anything on him?"

"Oh, yes, an extensive criminal history," he replied positively and with a hint of distain, "which will take our researchers a while to work through, however."

"What about Evans and Irie?"

"They left this morning." Wayward replied. "Miss Irie was discharged from the emergency room. She had been admitted by Detective Pleasant with a stab wound, although she should recover fully. Mister Evans wasn't harmed, to my knowledge."

"Miss Irie." China echoed when she noticed her mind wandering to the British woman. The thought still brought a sense of dread and discontent. Was she someone who would use the information she had? How many precautions could Skulduggery actually take, that would prevent China's own demise, should all this spill to the surface? "What do we know about her?"

"Not much, Ma'am. I recently checked her, and her history seems mostly unremarkable. Apart from the discipline, that is."

"Give me the rundown." She ordered.

Wayward cleared his throat in preparation for the list he recalled from memory. "Eighty-eight years old; raised in Brighton, England, by a Mage by the name of Alvertos Fenthorn. He was, apparently, not related to her; adopted Irie two days after her birth."

"Hm." China followed.

"Irie was trained as a first responder, and official records say that she was trained in magic by Dexter Vex, starting in her early twenties."

China nodded in understanding as some lose ends connected in her mind.

"Twenty years ago, she joined the English Sanctuary as a specialist for extraction and personal protection. Only then was it that Irie took on her last name."

"Any affiliations, other than the Sanctuary?"

"None that I know of." Wayward said and rustling told China that he was shaking his head. She did not see it, was too busy sharing over the rooftops, onto the moon hanging low above the horizon.

"She was losely involved in the most recent war but as FirstAid support provided by the British. Then, over a year ago, Nuce Evans joined her as partner-in-training at the Sanctuary. We already know all about him from the Haugert Wells attacks. That is it."

"And in the years before that?" China prodded.

"No significant records, Ma'am. Irie joined the Sanctuary at sixty-eight, but that isn't necessarily something unusual."

China nodded agreeingly. "Do you think she could be a threat?"

She heard Wayward sigh and adjust his stance. "Well, I suppose, just as much as anyone. But her records are clean, and she is highly respected in our security and transportation department. I don't see any particular reason to be worried."

"Good." China said contently and turned away from the window front, facing Wayward standing behind her. "Neither do I. But do keep an eye on them, will you? They feel like spilling some state secrets for afternoon tea, I want to know before breakfast."

Wayward nodded. "Certainly, Ma'am."