A broad shadow fell over the room when Tanner shouldered through the archway, his smoky brown eyes quickly assessing the scenario before him. He was tall, Emerson reaching his mid-chest, dark skin and brown wavy hair distinguished against her pale complexion and blonde locks.
Tanner’s usually-casual persona was nowhere to be seen, instead leaving a haunting presence in his wake, poetically accompanied by the blank void where our Variants went to wallow and disappear.
Titus could sense it too. He didn’t quite understand, though his face paled and panic lit the depths of his orbs as he tracked Tanner, who stalked closer.
“I cooperated! You said you’d let her go.”
Tanner stood behind the woman’s kneeled form and wrenched her head back with a rough hand. Her blue eyes bled into her lover’s face with desperation, silently begging for his protection.
Too late.
Titus fell speechless as her mask transitioned before us. Mousy brown locks converted into copper red strands, and blue irises sharpened into vibrant, forest green. A serpentine smile slid over her lips as she slapped Tanner’s hand loose and stood upright, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch.
“Bastard,” she whined. “You didn’t have to pull my hair so hard.”
As she massaged her scalp, Tanner winked in return. “I only wanted to play my part. You were playing yours so well.”
“Beth?” Titus asked Spencer, in a last-ditch effort to appeal to his transitioned lover-turned-stranger.
Spencer returned his call with a wide, malevolent grin, her white canines shining like she was ready to feast on his flesh (which, in all honesty, wouldn’t be far from the truth).
Titus paled further, realising his protection was unwarranted and entirely unnecessary. “I can help! I can help!”
Spencer tilted her head as a flash of silver glimmered between her fingers. “We don’t need your help.” Her hand darted forward, the knife sinking into his flesh, form steady and sure as she flayed the prized Ludus tattoo from his skin.
The last remaining dregs of Titus’ screams echoed through the endless catacombs. His dying lament welcomed our return, initiating the beginning of our long-awaited revenge.
Spencer cleaned her knife with a spare rag. “What a waste of time.”
I sighed, eyeing the stray red droplet that landed on my expensive jacket. “I wouldn’t say that. I took your advice and planted my staff card on Psycho. So if he wants to leave, now is the opportunity.”
“You think he’ll take the bait?” Tanner asked.
“If he does, then he will lead us straight to Maximus. If he remains, then they have leverage on him. Why else would he stay in a place like that?”
We all sat around the kitchen island, a full roast and condiments dominating the bench. We’d cleaned and cooked, now ready to eat together as a family.
Tanner honed into his food, Emerson sipped on a glass of whiskey and Spencer balanced back on two legs of her stool, blowing a bubble of her favourite pink gum, the casual action in disparity with her extravagant black gown.
Spencer’s gaze roamed over my healed injuries. “Ah, that’s better. I wouldn’t have been able to stomach my meal if I had to stare at your battered face the whole time.”
I rolled my eyes and tipped my chin at her getup. “Where are you off to tonight?”
“Do you like it? Looks much better on me than the mannequin in the window. These are real gems stitched into the fabric.”
Emerson chuckled. “Did you take it straight off the dummy, or pay this time?”
“The mannequin looked about my size. Plus, the shop assistant was rude. Serves her right.” Spencer poked out her tongue. “I wouldn’t worry, she’ll be searching for a long-haired blonde with striking blue eyes, wearing an oversized leather jacket riding a motorbike.”
Emerson’s chuckle cut short, those same blue eyes now narrowed on the redhead. “You better be joking, Spence. I’m at Hangman’s Clinic tomorrow. I don’t want to worry about cops breathing down my ass.”
“Oh, hush Meek. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to look like you.” Spencer’s gaze then flicked to me. “You either.”
My head fell back and a laugh escaped my throat. Emerson smiled into her glass.
Tanner ignored our bickering, continuing with his meal. We were grateful to have him back after the long week, his guidance and support a significant part of our family dynamic.
“How’s your father?” I asked.
He finished his mouthful and chased the food down with Emerson’s whiskey. “He’s having difficulties with the new recruits. They’re not as resilient as they used to be.” His smoky brown eyes lit with amusement as they bounced between us.
Emerson refilled his glass. “To compare is unfair. We had prior training…and we were more than motivated after Chase.”
Spencer sniggered. “Speak for yourself. I was the best, and Uncle is just now realising.”
“Best at what?” I baited. “Meek beat you for the assessment in combat, and I beat you in weapons.”
Spencer’s cheeks blazed red, her fingers twitching around her knife. “No one can school me on infiltration and undercover jobs.”
“It’s kind of forfeit when your Variant lets you change appearance, Spence. Of course you’re not going to get caught,” Emerson droned sarcastically.
And that’s all she needed.
Spencer bolted from her chair straight over the cluttered bench, dishes and food flying in all directions.
Tanner wrapped a muscular arm around her waist as his other hand continued to shovel food into his mouth. I shook my head and continued my meal.
