Staying at my mother's tonight as she has fallen, hurt her leg, but didn't think it worth calling me while I was at work, ofc. Oh no. Not at all. Didn't want to be a bother. For fuck's sake! I've practically given up on telling her she isn't. Must have done so a thousand times in the last few years alone but it just won't sink in.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 132

Jaune met back up with her en route to the home of the girl the suspect was obsessed with. Blake looked him up and down, half-expecting scars from whatever verbal spars he'd had with Saphron. Though they were absent, he had the look of intense fatigue about him, as if he'd come straight from the battlefield. He settled in next to her in the back of a police car, a thick pane of privacy glass between them and the driver up front and gave her the rundown of the meeting and its implications for their office.

Blake couldn't decide if they were better or worse than what they'd feared.

"It's not extermination," she said.

"But it is containment. I'll be trapped to a singular facility except in cases of such extreme danger that my life will be at risk. You'll be expected to run every mission alone, at least until they can choose some new agents for us."

"All of whom will be loyal to them over us. I see the issue."

"Not to mention your odds of survival, Blake. No offence but this just isn't the kind of job one person can do solo."

"You did," she pointed out. "For over a year, apparently."

He scowled, turning away to look out the window as the scenery blurred past. The silence almost seemed enough of an answer. He hadn't been alone because he was meant to survive; he'd been alone because he was supposed to die. ARC Corp wouldn't have shed a tear if its anomalous member died in the line of duty and leaving him alone in Vale with no backup or support had only increased the likelihood. He'd survived. Barely.

But that didn't mean she would. She had aura, but he had something far more useful – an inbuilt immunity to a lot of anomalous effects, due to being one himself. Not all of them. The transformed teacher had been able to lock him in a textbook, and the transformed holiday are had hit them both with its influence. Whether that was a factor of his mind not being immune or some odd facet of human-to-anomaly transformations bypassing the usual limitations, she wasn't sure. No one was sure. ARC Corp didn't want there to be any research that might find out, because any knowledge on the anomalous was a danger.

"What do we do?" she asked. "Do we accept this? Leave? Play along for a while?"

"We accept it," he said, tapping her knee and gesturing to the driver. Blake tapped back in agreement. "Of course we do. It's our duty, and a generous offer from Saphron. There's nothing else to discuss." Not here in the back of a police car where they could be overheard, anyway. "Tell me about the case."

"We've located one of the major players but he's run. We also tracked who we think is the one with the knife through his emails, but he's split as well. We have no information on the wielder but this guy kept a list of women he wanted to use the knife on. I was in there."

"How flattering."

"Yeah." Blake rolled her eyes. "We also found someone in there who we think might be a target, sort of a last fuck you to the world if he thinks he's screwed. A girl he was apparently sweet on. We're headed there now to inform her and get some information. He might make a play for her, which would be a good chance to snag him."

"Looks like you've got this in the bag even without me."

"It's been a mundane case for the most part. The knife hasn't been seen or used as far as I can tell. I expect it'll get more complicated if they start. Though," she mused, "If they decide to kill themselves to escape us, that'll be problem solved."

"As long as we find the knife. No use it falling into other hands."

/-/

The house they arrived at was a small and narrow home connected on both sides by buildings identical in shape and size. A long section of terraced housing with tiny gardens broken apart by wooden fences and hedges. Many of them were in poor states, the overall lack of value in the properties passing on to their owners as an apathetic attitude to their care. The one they let themselves through the gate of was one of the better ones, with a small and well-maintained flowerbed out front. Jaune stepped up and pressed the doorbell. A musical tune played out inside.

No one responded. Jaune and Blake exchanged worried looks, before he ducked and braced his shoulder against the door. He drew back and slammed forward, shaking the door in its frame. On the second attempt, the gate behind them creaked open.

"Excuse me. What are you doing?"

They froze. A woman stood behind them with a shopping bag in each hand. She looked to be in her late teens but Blake knew she was twenty-one, with a small stature and wide, expressive eyes. Her hair was a pale brown, bordering on blonde, cut short to her ears.

Jaune looked like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Rachel Palmer?" Blake asked, recognising the face from a police photo. "My name is Blake Belladonna and this is Jaune Arc. We're working with the VPD. We'd like to speak with you about an acquaintance of yours. We believe you may be in danger."

It took a flash of a warrant to get them inside. Blake and Jaune sat in the living room as she made them some tea and returned, at which point Blake laid out the basics of the situation. Enough to let her know an "old friend" of hers had gone off the deep end and might have ill-intentions towards her.

"I know exactly who you mean," she said, shoulders slumping. "Mark Green. It's him, isn't it?"

"Yes. You already had reason to believe?"

"Not that he was breaking the law but..." The woman bit her lip. "I'd known him since I was younger. We used to play games online together. I was sick at the time and couldn't leave home and we met through online games. We were best friends. At least that's how I saw us. He started to see me as something more. He'd get jealous and possessive with other people online if they talked to me, and he kept talking about meeting up in person. Insistently."

"Did you?"

"Yes. Years ago. We've met plenty of times. It was fun at first. He was... He was sweet. A little too desperate, a little too... off." She looked away guiltily. "But I kept putting up with his oddities because of our friendship. He'd been there for me so I told myself I had to be there for him. It was two years ago he asked me to date him. I... I said no."

"He didn't take it well, I assume."

"He flew into a rage. Accused me of leading him on, of mistreating him, of not giving him a chance. Even of cheating him, which didn't make sense because we weren't together and I wasn't with anyone. I'm still not. He said some horrible things and I let him cool off for a few months. He came back after," she whispered. "Apologised to me. Said he handled it poorly. We made up. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"He wanted to make up and I said I would, but it was hard to go back to how we were. Every time we played games, he'd drop hints he still wanted me, and he'd still get jealous around other people online. I do still talk to him, but I keep him apart from my other friends. Let him think it's just the two of us. The worst part is I used to like him. I was convinced I fancied him for the longest time, but it was him who ruined that by being so jealous and mean-spirited."

That sounded awfully familiar to Blake. The circumstances were different, of course, but she'd also loved a man who changed. Sadly, change was a normal part of life. People changed. Not always for the better.

"Has he reached out to you in the last few days?" Jaune asked.

"Yes. He... He messaged me last night..."

Blake tensed. "What did he say?"

"He told me he'd have to go offline for a bit because he was moving. Something about his landlord being an asshole and evicting him even though he's on top of his bills. I didn't question it," she admitted. "I know he makes good money. He was always trying to buy me things to make me feel indebted to him."

"Do you know what he does for a living?"

"He says he codes." Her face fell. "He doesn't code, does he...?"

"It could be argued he does, but what he codes for is highly illegal and has cost people their lives." Blake delivered the news as kindly as she could, but the woman's face fell into her hands. "It's cost women their lives."

"No. No, no, no."

"There's no suggesting at all you're involved, Rachel." Blake stood and stepped over, placing a hand on her back. "Our main concern right now is that Mark might feel like he's about to be caught, and that if he has no options left and no hope of escaping, he might as well satisfy one last, lingering desire of his."

Her face twisted. Rachel didn't need it writing out.

But what she imagined wasn't even close to how bad it would really be. He wouldn't just assault her; he'd film it, then torture and kill her after – releasing the whole video online. There was no telling what the knife would do to her.

"What do I—"

A scroll buzzed.

Hers.

Rachel looked at it and paled. Her eyes, wide, flicked to them. "It's him," she heaved.

Jaune nodded. "Answer it. Play dumb."

"H—Hello? Oh, hi Mark." Rachel brought it to her ear and tried to sound normal, but her voice was desperately strained. He noticed. "What? No, I'm okay. I just got back from shopping. You know I still get winded... No, it's fine. I didn't want to take a taxi; the doctors say I should walk more to strengthen my legs."

Her face scrunched up unhappily, even as she forced a giggle. It was obvious he'd said something she didn't like, perhaps an unwished-for compliment on her legs.

"Y—You're always so silly," she said. "How is the move? Your landlord isn't causing you issues, is he? Have you picked out a new place?"

Jaune waved his hand for her to slow down. It was too quick, too sudden, and anyone worth their salt should have considered the call might be monitored.

Apparently, he didn't consider it.

"You've got a place lined up? That's good. How soon will you have the internet back up? We should play more." She paused, hummed, listened. "Um. Yeah. Um. Here...?" Her face paled. "I... I don't know about that, Mark."

A buzzing came down the line. A voice had been raised.

"No. No, I don't have anyone here. Who would I have—? Mark, you know I don't have a boyfriend. No, I'm not lying to you. I told you I'm not looking for anything like that right now. I'm living alone. It's just... No, you are a friend," she said, cringing. "But it's so sudden. No, I..."

Desperately, she looked to them, eyes wide and begging.

Blake slid her jacket back to let the woman see her gun, then nodded one time.

"Y—Yes. Okay. You can stay here – but as a friend, Mark, please. I'll have a spare bed made up. We can break out a console and play." Her face took on a sad smile, eyes slowly closing. "Yeah, it'll be fun. See you tonight."

The call ended.

"We'll be here," Blake told her.

"You'll be safe." Jaune agreed. "You needn't be afraid."

"It's not that," the woman murmured. "It's just one more betrayal, isn't it? He blames me for always turning on him but I never did. Except that I have now."

"Sometimes..." Blake said. "You have to be willing to stand up to someone you care about and stop them. That's a lesson I learned too late to save the life of a man I considered my friend, and once my boyfriend. I ran away from him and he descended deeper and deeper, until only death could release him. It takes more courage to stand up to a friend and tell them they're doing wrong than it does to pretend nothing is wrong in the first place. Or walk away and abandon them."

It was the truth.

But the truth was scant comfort.

"Can... Can you at least let me talk to him first?" she asked. "I want to believe he wouldn't hurt me. Give me a chance. You can watch. Use it as evidence if he does. But I want to challenge him and give him one small chance to prove you wrong."

"That'll be dangerous, Rachel."

"I know."

Blake looked to Jaune. It was his call.

"In that case, I'd like to give you some questions to ask him," Jaune said. "Things we'd like to know that he might refuse to give normally – like where his new place is. But, Miss Palmer, if he draws a curved knife I want you to fling yourself away as fast and as hard as you can. It is exceptionally dangerous and, if he draws it, we will have no option but to respond with lethal force."

/-/

It was to be some time before their target arrived, so Rachel left her and Jaune to their own devices while she locked herself in her room and fortified herself for what was to come. Blake didn't blame her. Not for feeling afraid but also not for wanting to give him a chance. She, too, had wanted to give Adam chance after chance after chance.

Who was she to tell this woman not to?

But at least it gave them some privacy. "So, this proposal from Saphron. How legitimate do you think it is? Is it serious or does it only have to hold until your old man is dead, and then she decides on some last-minute restructuring?"

"I don't know. Maybe she'll hold to it. I'll be contained either way and having me as an ace in the hole just in case she needs me might be worth putting up with me. Gathering all the important anomalies ARC Corp can't afford to destroy in one place also makes sense. Not only financially, but as an excuse to destroy them all if there's ever a breach. As for the academy taking in orphans, that's not a bad idea. Dystopian in a sense, but there are non-combat roles in the organisation and if those children are just going to struggle to find jobs and places to stay anyway..."

It was a grey area. Taking on any kids with the promise of money and a home felt manipulative to her, but she'd been in need of a home and money as well when she came to Vale, so she understood that morality wouldn't necessarily help those children. Sometimes it was better to make the choice that fixed their immediate problems first and worry about the ethicality of it later.

"She has long-term plans," Blake said. "I'd call that a good sign if it were anyone other than her. The problem is if she can plan so far ahead, we've no guarantee she hasn't planned an unfortunate fate for us."

"But no guarantee she has, either."

"I'm not willing to risk our lives on faith, Jaune. Not towards your family of all people. I've met them. Even your mother was a monster in her own way. No offence."

"Some taken," he said, grimacing. "You met my mom who had been mentally tortured by Mountain Glenn. But I get your point. It's a lot of faith to put on someone who has made a repeated show of not trusting us. The problem is we can't take any action at all before my father dies. If we do, we become the renegades. Saphron's plans are acceptable. No one can really call her out on them, so us acting out just makes us look like we have something to hide."

Which they did. Quite a lot of things. "We're stuck, then?"

"No. We can wait for Saphron to play her hand, if she does, and then react. We have aces in the hole she doesn't know about. Coda, Alistair, even the White Fang. We have a lot of allies that would help us if we needed it. Your book, too."

Blake scowled and touched it. The anomaly within hummed amusedly. She really didn't want to trust it either, but she knew it would side with her if only to wring more concessions out of her. And to keep itself free where it could cause mischief. And pursue Yang.

An embarrassed titter came from the book.

Blake's eye twitched. "Fine. Fair point. I guess they need us with so many of the family having died. Any plans to betray us should have to wait at least a few years, until they have replacements ready for our office."

"Exactly. We can afford to keep an open mind for now." He nudged her arm. "But we won't let our guard down." They both stilled as a taxi pulled up outside. Jaune peeked out the window and then closed the curtains. "He's here. Time to move."

/-/

They found their way into a cupboard off to the side of the living room, squashed up in the dark where they could watch through the slats as Rachel drew the man into the room. Blake wasn't sure what she expected, but he definitely didn't fit the bill. Given his lack of success with women to the point that he despised women, she expected someone hideous and physically out of proportion. Someone who through no fault of his own alienated women.

Instead, he was average.

Maybe even above average in looks. He wasn't fit, but he wasn't overweight either. He had a little belly but, if it were sucked in, he'd look thin. He had a relatively slim frame, slightly-less-than-angular face and curly black hair that a lot of women would probably like. It was the way he held himself, though. He was tense and withdrawn, eyes darting around. He hugged Rachel – basically picked her up and forced the hug on her and then held it for much longer than she was comfortable with. She had to gently push him away as she awkwardly suggested they play some games like old times.

When she set up the console and took a seat, he ignored the empty one and wedged himself in on the seat next to her, ensuring they were squashed hip to hip. He smiled, as if inviting her to say something and appear rude. She couldn't. Rachel smiled back and nudged him with her elbow, forcing herself to act like his assertiveness didn't bother her.

So, that's his issue.

Too forceful, too assertive, not willing to listen or pay attention. It honestly wasn't a surprise someone bedridden for so long would crush on him like Rachel had, but also no surprise she'd turned off him when he started acting like this. He was the type to make decisions for someone, to impose his will and – much worse – to act like you were the one being unreasonable when he was called out for it. If he'd just been pushy, Rachel might have decided all he needed was to learn boundaries, or that he was inexperienced with them. But the gaslighting was the real issue, and it spoke of deeper problems.

It didn't take them long to start talking, and for him to relax into the games.

"—landlord is a prick. Absolute asshole. No warning, Rach, he just kicked me out. Told me it was a no-fault eviction. How is that even a thing? If it's not my fault, I shouldn't be evicted. It'd be one thing to tell me he was selling and wanted us all to find new places in a month or two but kicking me out so soon is crazy."

"It really is..."

Rachel sounded forlorn. It was knowing he was lying to her that did it, knowing that everything he was telling her was a lie. No doubt she was wondering how much of everything else was a lie as well, and how far back it went.

"So, your new place. How long will it take to get it up?"

"Not too long. Why? Not tired of me already, are you?"

"No. No. Just... worried about you."

"Aw, Rach." He wrapped an arm around her and drew her in. There was no room for her to wriggle out of it. "I knew you'd be on my side. Feels like no one else ever is. Life just keeps taking dumps on me. You're the only good thing in it. I really do love you."

"M—Mark...You promised..."

"I promised not to push it. I never said I wouldn't keep reminding you how much I love you." He laughed as if it were a joke, as if he were complimenting her, and as if she should just take it as that and not cause such a scene. "You really are great. There aren't any other girls who likes games like you do, for one."

"There are. I introduced you to them."

"Those old friends of yours? Whatever happened to them? You still play with them."

"No." she lied. "No, they moved on."

"Hm. Well, you don't need to worry about me being like that. I'll never up and abandon you."

"T—That's good." Rachel finally managed to wriggle out from his side, though she still couldn't escape sitting next to him. "But this new place. Does it have a better landlord? Have you visited it? Where is it? Maybe I can visit."

"That... That wouldn't be a good idea. I'll be bunking with a guy." Blake stiffened. This was their target. Jaune gripped her arm tight in the cupboard. "He's a friend but... I don't think I'd trust him with you."

"Mark, I've told you not to be like that."

"Not jealousy this time. He's... He's a player. A bad one. Likes to lead women on and leave them..." He hesitated. "Leave them not in a good place. Trust me, you don't want anything to do with him. Neither do I anymore."

Rachel perked up. "Then why don't you leave him?"

"Can't. He and I... We're in business together. Coding. Game design. Freelance, for big companies. I can't say because of NDAs we signed." The lies came so easily, so smoothly, that Blake knew it was causing the woman even more pain. "Point is, I can't just up and quit just yet. But I will soon. He's kind of skirting a little too close to the sun. I'm thinking of quitting. Maybe even quitting Vale. Moving away."

Running away.

"Moving from Vale? To where?"

"I don't know. Maybe somewhere in the countryside." He leaned into her. "You should come with."

"What!? No. I have a life here. A job. Friends—"

"You can get all those elsewhere. Plus, it'd be cheaper. I'd look after you, Rach. You know that. You and me, living together. It'd be amazing. Think about it."

Her smile was fragile. Pained. "You know why I can't agree to that."

"Because you don't feel the same way. I know. But you could. You could give me a shot, give us a shot. Give me a chance to prove you wrong."

"Mark—"

"No." He set the controller down and grabbed her hand. "This isn't fair, Rachel. I love you. You have no idea how much it hurts to love you and never have anything back. One chance, that's all I ask. I'd make you the happiest woman in the world. I could satisfy you like no one else could."

"I've said no..."

"Why?" His face darkened. His tone dropped. "Why are you like this?" he demanded, squeezing her wrist. "All the things I've bought you. All the time I've spent with you. I was by your side while you were bedridden—"

"You're hurting me."

"You're hurting me!" he fired back. "Hurting me inside!" He leaned forward, and she leaned back, falling almost off the sofa as he tried to force a kiss on her. His other arm caught her, bracing her down on her back as he leaned in.

Blake came crashing out the cupboard.

"FREEZE!" she roared. "YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!"

He froze.

And then looked down on the scared, threatened but also guilty woman beneath him. "You bitch—" he hissed and set his hands to her throat. "I loved you! I LOVED you!"

Gambol Shroud struck him before he could squeeze, smashing him off the woman and to the ground. He was no huntsman and passed out from the sharp blow with the butt of her gun. Jaune moved over to pin him down and check him for the knife, but she knew he wouldn't have it. Not after what he'd said.

"I'm sorry," Blake told the crying woman.

"No," she sobbed. "You stepped in. You saved me."

"That's not what I'm apologising for. I'm sorry he couldn't be saved. You did your best."

Sobbing, the woman clung to her, crying not only for her own sorrow but for the friend she'd once had – hopefully, anyway. There was no telling how far the lies went back, but Rachel would likely convince herself he'd been a good person once. That it wasn't all his fault, and someone had corrupted him along the way. It might even be true. That was the problem with people who lied so easily. When they were exposed, it became impossible to see where the lies ended and the truth began.

"His scroll is here," Jaune said. "We can use it to figure out where his new place is, and where the other suspect is with the knife."

It was time to put a stop to this.

Next Chapter: 10th February

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