r e n e g a d e s

In the time that Pepper Green had been working for Charles Elwood, the agent had thought that she’d been doing fairly well for herself. Grievous chest wound aside, Oli Greyson had performed flawlessly. She was prompt. Unquestioning. Competent. She maintained a close relationship with her client.

Perhaps too close.

The injury was what had doomed Pepper Green. With all the attention Altaire was giving her, Charles Elwood was finally beginning to take notice of just how close the two had become. Pepper had known he was a horribly jealous, cruel man, but she hadn’t thought he would drag her out of recovery so soon. That he would force her to do a watered down version of her job just so he could watch her sweat, as the strain slowly began to kill her.

She shouldn’t have been standing, let alone moving and completing tasks for the twisted enjoyment of Charles Elwood.

The worst part was that Pepper knew it was destroying Altaire. She knew that it was horrible to make the other woman watch her go through this. But it would be over soon. A few more days. A few more days and her assignment would be over and Altaire and Pepper would both be free of that wretched man.

Or so the agent had thought. She hadn’t considered that, after her now considerable time under Elwood’s employ, that one of his men would actually find her out. That Elwood’s jealousy and irritation at Pepper’s stubbornness would lead him to order an investigation, which would lead him not to find the agent’s actual profession, but instead something far deadlier.

Her connection to Perceval Hastings.

And so, with very little warning, Pepper found herself summoned and escorted to Elwood’s office under the pretense of some new assignment.

Little did she know what awaited her inside.

As she spoke, Elwood glared across at her, but it was clear he didn’t think much of it, tutting and moving on before he could spare it much thought. Likely, he didn’t even recognise what language it was she spoke.

“You have six hours, Hastings, to fulfill all my demands. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me, but, well, you know just how high the stakes are, I’m sure.”

Without another word, he ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, turning back to Pepper with a smile somehow even more smug than before. In this moment, absolutely nothing could shake the confidence of Charles Elwood. His plan was going off without a hitch, after all.

“I’d say he’s even angrier with you than I am, Green.” He tutted, instructing his lackey to cease his assault and moving to stand over her once more. “Rather selfish, wouldn’t you say? Just think about how many people you’ve hurt with these plans of yours…”

The irony of his words were, as always, entirely lost on him. A knowing gleam in his eye, it was clear he had more in store for Pepper than the onslaught she had faced already this evening.

Something likely far more painful than what she had gone through so far.

“Now that reminds me…” He glanced across the room, speaking over Pepper to another of his lackeys, one equipped with an earpiece. “I think it’s about time we call for her, don’t you?”

He turned away, speaking into the earpiece at a volume not quite loud enough for Pepper to hear. But it was far from a grand secret she would need to uncover, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what he had meant.

“You know, I could have forgiven you for many of the things you did.” He let out a sigh in mock disappointment, but a smile still played on his lips in his unbridled pride.

“But to manipulate Altaire like that, you hurt her more than anyone else. I think you owe her an explanation, don’t you?”

A timid knock at the door heralded her arrival, any time to prepare for Pepper to prepare thrown out the window.

“Come in!” A malicious grin played on his face, eyes lighting up with excitement for just how his girlfriend would react to the scene at hand.

“Excellent.” Hastings said, not at all taking Elwood’s at his word. Though Hasting’s tone indicated that he was quite pleased by what he was hearing, the man was shaking with fury, white knuckling his desk as Pepper’s cries rang in his ears and shook his core.

At hearing his daughter speak to him, however, he audibly growled in frustration, clearly not happy to hear Pepper yell out of term. The last thing the agent needed, with Charles Elwood already so eager to see her bleed, was to take unnecessary risks.

“Behave yourself, Pfeffer.” Hastings hissed, his very real disapproval causing Pepper to visibly wince. Hastings knew his daughter. He knew that she was stubborn. Defiant. Unbreakable in her resolve.

And Pepper knew her father. She understood the meaning behind his sharply spoken words.

Stop taking unnecessary risks. Don’t make things worse for yourself. Don’t do what you always do, Pepper.

The agent hoped that, once this was all over, Hastings would find it in himself to forgive her.

“I’m sure you can… restrain yourself for the right price, Mr. Elwood?” Hastings said, hoping that, as angry and vile as Charles Elwood was, he lived up to his reputation of being the type of man who would do anything for money. Even let someone like Pepper Green go.

The call ended before Hastings could receive any sort of reassurance.

Which left Pepper Green once again alone and at the mercy of Charles Elwood.

The agent’s sat slumped in her seat, her head heavy on her neck as her bonds kept her battered frame upright. Her face was bleeding considerably, both from her nose and a few deep gashes that had opened up over the past few minutes. As Elwood approached the agent, she spat at his feet, blood hitting the ground a few inches from his shoes.

She didn’t respond to his words at first. Instead, she just watched him, her bleary gaze ice cold. Despite her labored breaths, Pepper set her aching jaw, her lips tightened in a disapproving pucker as she took Elwood’s condescending nonsense in silence.

The agent didn’t have a lot of strength to spare.

It wasn’t until his focused turned to Altaire that Pepper’s eyes grew dark with fury and she gave a slight cough, clearing some of the bile out of her throat before she began to speak in a low and dangerous tone, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“Why is it… Mr. Elwood… that you take such pleasure… in making that poor girl… so miserable…?”

Charlie didn’t care about Altaire. He cared about owning her. About controlling her and having her do as he pleased.

Pepper knew that there was nothing she could say to prevent Elwood from bringing Altaire into this room. He wanted to hurt the both of them for their closeness. For Pepper’s mistakes.

How much she regretted in this moment not being more honest with Altaire. Not moving more quickly. Not doing enough for her.

There was nothing Pepper could do at this point except try to mitigate the damage. To try and protect Altaire. To try and offer her some sort of apology or comfort without Elwood completely twisting her words. To try to do what she could to keep Elwood from hurting Altaire, even if that meant continuing to lie. All that mattered, at this point, was keeping Altaire safe.

It was her job. But more than that, it was her sincerest desire.

And today, she was convinced that something disastrous was going to happen.

It wasn't often that Altaire found herself alone. Especially recently, where if she had not been called away to accompany Charlie on whatever business he wanted her for, she would slink away to spend hours with Oli in private.

But not tonight. Both were nowhere to be seen, and Charlie's men refused to tell her anything.

And so she was left, entirely in the dark as to what was going on. Unable to so much as sit still or try to distract herself, Altaire found herself pacing back and forth across the marble floor of the bedroom she and Charlie shared.

Most of all, her mind lingered on thoughts of Oli. She was acutely aware of Charlie's jealousy, she remembered all the snide comments about how much time they were spending together. Altaire knew it was really just a matter of time until her bodyguard got in trouble with him. She felt hopeless, anxiously praying for any news or information.

It felt like hours, night had long since fallen before she was summoned down to Charlie's office. It was eerily quiet outside as she reached the door, offering no reassurance whatsoever. If not for the two men flanking her on either side, Altaire most likely would have fled long before entering the room.

Nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming smell of blood that hit her the second the door opened. There was Charlie, a deranged look in her eye and blood on his knuckles, smiling at her in the way that never failed to make her anxious. And there, slumped over in a chair bloody and bruised, was...

"Oli!" She had cried out without thinking, stumbling over her own legs as she knelt down beside her chair, her fingetips comjng to gently brush her blood-matted blonde hair away from her eyes as she desperately tried to assess her condition, albeit knowing there was nothing she could do to help.

She hated how often she had seen Oli so grievously injured in their short time together.

Before she could do or say anything else, a firm hand gripped her arm, Charlie pulling her to her feet, distancing her from where Oli was sat.

"I'm sorry you had to join us like this, kitten." Charlie planted a kiss on her cheek, malice in his eyes as he smirked over to Pepper. Altaire could barely register his words, unable to tear her eyes off her bodyguard.

"But this was really rather urgent, as I’m sure you can see..." Charlie let out a sigh, his demeanour having shifted since Altaire entered the room. He was immediately softer, a thinly veiled act to hide the true extent of his rage.

Altaire slowly turned her head, glistening eyes looking between her boyfriend and her bodyguard. She seemed somewhat distant, unable to process exactly what she was seeing before her. She knew what Charlie was capable of, and she knew just how much contempt he held for Oli. Perhaps it was out of naivety that she never truly expected him to act so viciously.

“Oli Greyson here has been holding secrets from us, haven’t you?” He eyed Pepper with another smirk, incredibly satisfied to have his plans work so perfectly. 

In the time that Pepper Green had been working for Charles Elwood, the agent had thought that she’d been doing fairly well for herself. Grievous chest wound aside, Oli Greyson had performed flawlessly. She was prompt. Unquestioning. Competent. She maintained a close relationship with her client.

Perhaps too close.

The injury was what had doomed Pepper Green. With all the attention Altaire was giving her, Charles Elwood was finally beginning to take notice of just how close the two had become. Pepper had known he was a horribly jealous, cruel man, but she hadn’t thought he would drag her out of recovery so soon. That he would force her to do a watered down version of her job just so he could watch her sweat, as the strain slowly began to kill her.

She shouldn’t have been standing, let alone moving and completing tasks for the twisted enjoyment of Charles Elwood.

The worst part was that Pepper knew it was destroying Altaire. She knew that it was horrible to make the other woman watch her go through this. But it would be over soon. A few more days. A few more days and her assignment would be over and Altaire and Pepper would both be free of that wretched man.

Or so the agent had thought. She hadn’t considered that, after her now considerable time under Elwood’s employ, that one of his men would actually find her out. That Elwood’s jealousy and irritation at Pepper’s stubbornness would lead him to order an investigation, which would lead him not to find the agent’s actual profession, but instead something far deadlier.

Her connection to Perceval Hastings.

And so, with very little warning, Pepper found herself summoned and escorted to Elwood’s office under the pretense of some new assignment.

Little did she know what awaited her inside.

Hearing Pepper cry out only prompted more teasing from her captor. His brows furrowed in mock concern, he shook his head, a finger resting over his lips as he waited for Hastings to respond.

Elwood savoured every single reaction he could get out of Pepper. In his eyes, there was nothing more satisfying than seeing someone who had wronged him suffer. He sought the instant gratification that came with inflicting pain on others, and Pepper was here to please.

Once again, his attention was stolen by Hastings. He carelessly waved for one of his men, the same one as before, to continue his plight- that he was free to hurt Pepper as he saw fit. Merciless, this brute of a mobster delighted in his work almost as much as his boss did.

“Oh, straight to business, are we?” His demeanor far from matched Hastings in severity. No, he was having far too much fun with this. He could hear he’d gotten under his skin. “Well, I suppose you don’t have much time to waste…”

“Simply put, Hastings, I want you out of my way. I won’t have your business interfering with mine any longer.” It was clear Elwood thought Hastings to be the most dangerous competition there was. Likely a correct assumption, but it was unlikely to be a sentiment Hastings reciprocated.

“I want to see you ruined.”

Any chance to destroy such a contender could not be passed up.

“I’m having one of my men send over the full list of my demands as we speak.” Despite not having entirely planned to contact Hastings, Elwood had not passed up the opportunity to make all the necessary preparations beforehand. “If you ever want to see your daughter again, you’ll do what I want.”

Almost giddy with power, Elwood was positively gleaming as he spoke on the phone. Never before had he held this much power, that much was clear. Like a child given free rein in a sweet shop, he refused to think of any consequences his unhindered greed might bring.

“Listen, Hastings.” He paused, holding the phone towards where Pepper was sat, timing it perfectly to hear her cry out once more. “You know, Pepper didn’t have many nice things to say about you, but I doubt you’d want to see her suffer.”

Pepper grit her teeth as Charles Elwood mocked her, emerald eyes burning into him with unbridled fury.

Charles Elwood would pay dearly for this.

As Chrlie’s sadistic lackey approached her, the agent met the large man with a contemptuous glare, spitting at his feet. After months spent undercover, Pepper, of course, was well acquainted with this particular brute and his “methods”.

The agent knew that she was in for a rough evening.

Despite Pepper’s best efforts, Hastings could very clearly hear her muffled cries over the other line. It took everything he had to maintain his composure, to contain himself and pay attention to Elwood’s self-congratulatiory speech.

Hastings found himself grinding his molars together, his fists clenched tightly as he resisted the urge to violently strike his desk.

Instead Perceval Hastings began to speak in a pleasant, good-natured tone, as though he were speaking to an old business partner rather than a man who was currently threatening his precious daughter. As though he couldn’t hear her strangled cries as her ribs began to break.

Perceval Hastings was no fool. He knew that the best thing he could do for his daughter was  smile and tell Elwood exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Ah, I see. Of course, Mr. Elwood. You’ll have nothing to worry about. I don’t interfere with the business of those I respect. It hadn’t been my intention to encroach on your dealings in the first place.”

Hastings had a reputation for being a very honest man, uncharacteristically so for those in his line of work. He had integrity, class, and a moral code which he stuck very closely to.

But nothing mattered more to him in the world than his daughter. Elwood would soon discover what happened to those who hurt her.

“You needn’t threaten me, Mr. Elwood.” Hastings said, sounding almost dismayed. “I understand my position perfectly. Though I do expect that you’ll be returning my daughter in decent shape, won’t you Elwood? I want to discipline her myself for running off without my permission. You understand, don’t you?”

If Pepper didn’t know her father, his words would have convinced her that he was as wicked a man as Charles Elwood. His violent promise visibly unsettled her, causing her to tense in her seat and protest weakly before another precise blow diverted her attention.

“I’ll pay you handsomely for her.”

Pepper Green gave a sharp, involuntary yelp as Elwood held the phone up her, her assailant’s fist hitting her stomach with a sickening crack. She wretched, gagging and wheezing as the wind was knocked out of her.

“N-nimm den Dorn-!” Pepper spat, blood on her lips as she cursed the men in front of her.

Or rather, as she attempted to conceal her desperate plea to her father as venomous words.

Nimm den Dorn. Retrieve the Thorn. 

Hastings would understand. And as for Elwood… Well. 

As she spoke, Elwood glared across at her, but it was clear he didn't think much of it, tutting and moving on before he could spare it much thought. Likely, he didn't even recognise what language it was she spoke.

"You have six hours, Hastings, to fulfill all my demands. I'm sure you won't disappoint me, but, well, you know just how high the stakes are, I'm sure."

Without another word, he ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, turning back to Pepper with a smile somehow even more smug than before. In this moment, absolutely nothing could shake the confidence of Charles Elwood. His plan was going off without a hitch, after all.

"I'd say he's even angrier with you than I am, Green." He tutted, instructing his lackey to cease his assault and moving to stand over her once more. "Rather selfish, wouldn't you say? Just think about how many people you've hurt with these plans of yours..."

The irony of his words were, as always, entirely lost on him. A knowing gleam in his eye, it was clear he had more in store for Pepper than the onslaught she had faced already this evening.

Something likely far more painful than what she had gone through so far.

"Now that reminds me..." He glanced across the room, speaking over Pepper to another of his lackeys, one equipped with an earpiece. "I think it's about time we call for her, don't you?"

He turned away, speaking into the earpiece at a volume not quite loud enough for Pepper to hear. But it was far from a grand secret she would need to uncover, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what he had meant.

"You know, I could have forgiven you for many of the things you did." He let out a sigh in mock disappointment, but a smile still played on his lips in his unbridled pride.

"But to manipulate Altaire like that, you hurt her more than anyone else. I think you owe her an explanation, don't you?"

A timid knock at the door heralded her arrival, any time to prepare for Pepper to prepare thrown out the window.

Over the course of Pepper’s considerable and dangerous career, she had become no stranger to life-threatening situations. However, this particular kidnapping was by far the strangest the agent had endured thusfar.

“The Dutchess,” as she introduced herself, made her demands very clear. She wanted to know the location of someone named Alvarez. In most hostage negotiations, Pepper at least had the benefit of understanding the situation, but the agent found herself unable to make sense of half of what the other woman was saying.

Her confusion spurred the Dutchess’ rage, Pepper’s bewilderment giving rise to accusations and sadistic ramifications. When Katherine de Cambout presented Pepper Green with the crystals she had found on her person -gifts from the agent’s eccentric girlfriend- and demanded to know their origin, Pepper could only look at the woman in puzzlement.

Was she being held captive over simple stones? A misunderstanding? Was this Dutchess some disturbed serial killer whose delusions dictated who she chose as her victims.

She was a terrifying woman.

At first, she had approached Pepper with unsettling allure, attempting to win the agent over with her unnatural charm. Her voice, her eyes, her lips, her touch -she was intoxicating- almost dizzyingly so.

But the sight of her made Pepper feel sick with anxiety, the Dutchess’ unsettling enticement unnerving the agent horribly.

It was as if the Dutchess could sense Pepper’s resistance on the deepest level. Her fury was swift, her sharp, finely manacured nails raking down the agent’s cheek as she hissed about how bothersome a thing love was.

It always made these sorts of things drag out, she said.

As it dragged on, the torture became less about business and more about pleasure- and oh what pleasure de Cambout took in her work. Her greatest pride was the mark she left for Alvarez to find on the agent, deep, gnarled claw marks dragging from the woman’s shoulder, down her chest- sealed with a kiss and full or arcane energy.

In her darkest moments, Pepper thought her time with the Dutchess would never end. There was no time where Pepper was. No light to reference, no peace. Every time exhaustion dragged the agent down, she would find herself roughly woken up again. Until she was moved, her bloodied, bound frame dragged and deposited somewhere extremely cold and dark.

The Dutchess said something the agent couldn’t quite make out, before blowing her a kiss and locking her into an industrial freezer.

The agent didn’t hold onto consciousness long enough for the cold to truly set in, nor to feel the affects on her battered body as the oxygen in the room began to thin.

Nor was she conscious when her savior finally arrived.

His distinct magical aura was where the similarities between him and her ended. While she carried an air corrupted by malice and contempt, his was distinctly warmer and more welcoming. It was something Pepper had most certainly experienced before, in the presence of her girlfriend.

“I am Byron Alvarez.” In any other circumstance, he would have offered her his bejewelled hand, but opted against it given the state she was in. “I suspect you may have heard that name before…”

What other reason would the Duchess have to abduct Pepper Green, if not in search for him? The sorcerer had seen this happen time and time again- people close to his family being interrogated, tortured, just for intel on his bloodline’s whereabouts.

Byron was very much aware that Altaire had been through too much, held too much contempt for him to ever mention his name to anyone she was close to. His desire to keep his daughter safe from this singular threat had indeed resulted in a lifetime of troubles for her.

No matter how much easier it would make this current situation, he could hardly blame his daughter for electing to not tell Pepper Green about his existence.

“I believe you are close to my daughter, Altaire.” A grimace crossed over his face as he mentioned her name. It was clearly far from easy for him to talk about, he feared her reaction. There was no talking himself out of things here.

“I am sorry that we could not meet under better circumstances- well, I am sorry that we had to meet at all.” This was without a doubt the most precarious situatuon Byron had found himself in for years. He was far too old to take this kind of risk.

His neck was well and truly on the line for Pepper Green.

“I owe you an apology, Miss Green.” A jewelled hand came to rest over his heart, an earnest gleam in his eyes. “I should have put a stop to what happened to you last night before I did. She treated you with a level of cruelty I have not seen in quite some time.”

“I can only imagine how overwhelmed you must be, but, if you have any questions at all, answering them is the least I could do.”

Byron Alvarez.

“A… Alvarez….?” The agent’s disoriented gaze widened slightly, de Cambout’s bone chilling demands reverberating inside her aching skull.

Alvarez. Alvarez. She wanted Alvarez.

Despite the fact that Alvarez wasn’t a name Pepper had ever heard before the previous evening, she couldn’t get away from it. After all she’d endured on behalf of someone she didn’t know, now she was meeting him under the strangest circumstances. 

“She w-was… looking for you…” Pepper averted her gaze slightly as she spoke, shuddering as fresh chills ran down her spine. To say she was shaken by what had happened would be a horrible understatement.

Of course, nothing could have prepared her for what Byron Alvarez told her next.

That he was related to Altaire. To her Altaire. That he was the horrible man who had abandoned her. 

What began as a look of horrible realization quickly became one of panic as Pepper realized what Byron’s words meant.

That this meant that Altaire was-

Also an Alvarez. Also in danger. What if that horrible woman tried to hurt Altaire? What if-?!

As Byron spoke again, as he apologized to her, Pepper’s racing thoughts halted.

And she realized something else. Something just as horrible. 

“Y-you…!?” Byron Alvarez had know where she was. He had known what was happening to her. And he had left her there?! For how long? How long had he stood by why Katherine de Cambout had torn her apart before he had decided to step in?

Fury overtook her. Not only had this man abandoned Altaire, but he had left Pepper at the Duchess’ mercy. Without thinking, the agent attempted to lunge at the man, only to find her attempt at movement horribly ineffective.

A strangled cry caught in Pepper’s throat as she fell back into the plush bed, her vision blurred as her wounds pulsed with fresh pain.

He appeared younger than he was, but flecks of grey hair grew at his temples. Dark eyes rimmed with even darker circles. His attire- although clearly expensive and luxurious- was now old and worn after years and years of wear.

He had lived through more than any man should. The burden he forced himself to bear clearly took its toll on him over the past long years.

There was no change in expression. No response at all as she lunged at him. Byron knew, that even in a far stronger state than she was, that he would be able to overpower her if necessary. Very few were able to stand up to a skilled sorcerer such as himself.

He had had to learn very quickly how to protect himself.

"Don't move." Momentarily his tone was stern, anger flashing in his eyes. "Exacerbating your injuries will not do you any good."

He did not move an inch, remaining comfortably where he sat in his chair, no change at all apart from his eyes quickly flicking down to check she had not aggravated her wounds too severely.

"Listen, I do not know how much you may actually know about my daughter, but this may be situation may be far beyond anything you know." With a deep breath, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, taking a second to collect himself. "Your anger is more than justified, and I cannot apologise enough."

Despite his best intentions, Byron was acutely aware of his mistakes. He knew that few would ever regard him as a good man. His devotion to protecting his family often clouded his judgement. Selfishness manifested itself in a lack of regard for the safety of others.

This was far from the first time he had let somebody else take the fall, just to save his- or Altaire's- skin.

"But please, I implore you to understand." He spoke with a genuine earnest previously unheard. "I only want what is best for Altaire. Her safety is paramount to me. And there are people- like the woman you encountered tonight- who will stop at nothing to hurt her."

Pepper Green did not seem the type to be knowledgeable of magic. And he knew Altaire was not the type to draw attention to her abilities. Byron had taught her to be cautious in that regard. It was the main reason de Cambout was still entirely unaware of her identity.

If there was one common ground Byron could only assume they shared, it was Altaire. Pepper cared deeply for her, he could sense it.

"I am not your enemy, Miss Green- I am far from it. I apologise for not interfering sooner, but you are safe. And I will tell you whatever you wish to know."

Hearing Pepper talk more openly was incredibly relieving to Altaire. Without wanting to sound rude, the last thing she wanted was to have a roommate that she couldn’t talk to.

“Yeah! I think I could spend all day out in the grounds…” She glanced out the window, looking down upon the view they had. “I grew up in the countryside, so it’s nice to have somewhere that feels familiar, you know?” Altaire didn’t often share details about her life before the school, but a desire to make her roommate feel more comfortable overrode her need for secrecy.

Their room being somewhat high up, they had been blessed with an expansive view of much of the grounds, many hours spent watching the students that could be seen walking across the grass or relaxing out under a tree. It wasn’t tricky for Altaire to spot her two friends, Harlow relaxing as he lay down under the sun as Raoul sat surrounded by a large ring of flowers he had grown himself.

She tried her best not to pry too much as Pepper began to unpack her belongings. The distinct lack of them, and the absence of any personality in the little she did have. Her clothes were nearly all articles of uniform, was that really all she had?

Of course, Harlow had been much the same when they first met. He hadn’t had anything to call his own. He was still working to discover his identity as his own person, something that was made all the more difficult with his status as a shapeshifter.

Altaire had an inkling that he and Pepper would have a lot in common.

“Oh cool! What have you been reading?” It was a simple enough question, an attempt to further coax Pepper out of her shell. Not necessarily being a topic Altaire knew the most about, she was uncertain how far this train could go, but whe was willing to try. She’d take whatever she could get.

Even now she had finished unpacking, the unbalance in the room still could not be more noticeable. A stark line straight down the middle separated the two halves. The cluttered peace and homeliness of Altaire’s side contrasted with the stark emptiness of Pepper’s. No matter, the witch was certain she could help her decorate at some point or other.

Altaire sat back somewhat, back resting against the glass window pane. There was ample room to sit down on the window sill beside her, or there was always the bed if Pepper didn’t wish to sit so close. She wouldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The witch just hoped she would at least make herself comfortable. Stood where she was now, she really did look far too tense.

Though visibly shrinking a bit as the bird produced such a startling cry, the werewolf returned her nod politely, watching with some relief as the crow returned to her perch.

Pepper Green was, quite understandably, a very timid creature and, though the two had evidently reached an understanding, Pepper greatly appreciated Cob keeping her distance. The further away she was, with her powerful wings and sharp cries, the less skittish the werewolf was likely to be.

That was, if Altaire didn’t scare her off first.

As the witch spoke of the countryside, of her home, Pepper fell silent, her expression darkening as she quietly continued sorting her few possessions. She nodded stiffly in an automated attempt to signal her understanding, her eyes fixed on her bag as Altaire’s words turned her thoughts to her home.

The one she’d had before she was taken away.

She thought about it often enough. She could never forget what they had done. She saw it in her dreams; the day they had come into the peaceful village she’d lived in with her mother. A six-year-old Pepper Green saw her mother cut down in front of her, fighting ferociously to protect her young daughter before, in her last moments, she told Pepper to run.

But the young pup hadn’t been fast enough.

The werewolf blinked, realizing she was being spoken again only after Altaire had finished asking her question. Slowly, she looked down at the small pile of books she had carefully stacked next to her bed.

“I… have the dictionary.” She offered after a noticeable moment of hesitation, before it struck her that the dictionary was not likely the sort of book Altaire would be interested in. With the care one might extend to a priceless manuscript, Pepper gently set the thick dictionary she’d been provided aside so that she could assess the rest of her collection.

“Also… ‘Fairy Tales for Children’…. ‘Poetry of the… Ancient World’… and ‘The History of Europe’….”

The werewolf read the titles slowly, but with intense deliberation. She nodded in satisfaction once she had dutifully concluded reading the names before continuing to meticulously reorder her collection.

It came as no surprise, based on what she had heard about the girl's past, that she was haunted with such memories. Altaire could only assume she had said something wrong, something that had brought up painful memories. She could only mentally kick herself and do her best to not slip up again.

"Oh, cool!" Altaire nodded, staring at the books with a genuine interest. It was rather sweet to see the care that Pepper took in handling them, as of they were prized artifacts rather than just library books. "All my books are more ornamental... like, they're just for show at this point."

She looked over to the little bookshelf on her side of the room, just as cluttered as the rest of it. The books that took up her space were very different indeed. Ancient tomes bound in strange materials, gilded titles written in languages beyond comprehension. The library contained many spellbooks, but nothing like these. Family heirlooms, Altaire regarded them with great pride.

Her attention rediverted, the witch stiffened noticeably as Pepper mentioned 'Kit', the once warm smile on her face becoming much more forced. Cob, not quite as subtle as her friend, ruffling up her feathers and clicking her beak in obvious contempt. The witch shot her a quick glare before returning her gaze to her roommate, hoping that she wouldn't notice anything amiss.

"Oh... yeah?" It took considerable effort to keep her voice level, to not let her true feelings bubble to the surface. "That's uh... that's really nice of her. You two are good friends, right?"

It wouldn't take an expert to understand that Altaire Alvarez and Katherine de Cambout did not see eye to eye. The feud between their families had spanned generations, even though Altaire didn't know the intricacies of it. Most students at the academy were at least somewhat aware of it, and it was a frequent point of contention between her and her peers.

Everyone else adored her, of course, she was the sparkling jewel of the academy. Altaire had no proof for it, but she had always theorised there was some form of foul play at hand. As if they were all quite literally under her spell.

She was yet to figure out why it didn't seem to work on her.

But that was not yet important. Now was not the time to bring up her personal grievences with others. Especially not with a new roommate. Altaire was still very adamant they were to get off on a good foot.

In the time that Pepper Green had been working for Charles Elwood, the agent had thought that she’d been doing fairly well for herself. Grievous chest wound aside, Oli Greyson had performed flawlessly. She was prompt. Unquestioning. Competent. She maintained a close relationship with her client.

Perhaps too close.

The injury was what had doomed Pepper Green. With all the attention Altaire was giving her, Charles Elwood was finally beginning to take notice of just how close the two had become. Pepper had known he was a horribly jealous, cruel man, but she hadn’t thought he would drag her out of recovery so soon. That he would force her to do a watered down version of her job just so he could watch her sweat, as the strain slowly began to kill her.

She shouldn’t have been standing, let alone moving and completing tasks for the twisted enjoyment of Charles Elwood.

The worst part was that Pepper knew it was destroying Altaire. She knew that it was horrible to make the other woman watch her go through this. But it would be over soon. A few more days. A few more days and her assignment would be over and Altaire and Pepper would both be free of that wretched man.

Or so the agent had thought. She hadn’t considered that, after her now considerable time under Elwood’s employ, that one of his men would actually find her out. That Elwood’s jealousy and irritation at Pepper’s stubbornness would lead him to order an investigation, which would lead him not to find the agent’s actual profession, but instead something far deadlier.

Her connection to Perceval Hastings.

And so, with very little warning, Pepper found herself summoned and escorted to Elwood’s office under the pretense of some new assignment.

Little did she know what awaited her inside.

Pepper grit her teeth as the man spoke to her, biting back the urge to return his condecention with venomous words.

Now wasn’t the time, she knew, to lose her temper. With Elwood’s grim threat hanging over her, the agent knew she had little choice but to wait things out and play her part.

The blow came as no surprise to Pepper, who had done her best to tightly clench the muscles in her aching torso in an attempt to lessen the damage. Her meager attempt to protect herself, however, proved largely ineffective.

Despite her best efforts, a choked yelp caught in Pepper’s throat before she doubled over some in her seat, sputtering and coughing up strained profanities.

Words her father had never heard leave her lips.

It was more than enough to make the circumstances immediately clear to her Hastings. It took everything he had not to cry out to her, an audible sharp intake of breath providing an indication of the man’s distress.

Behind his seeming composure and temperance, he was inconsolably livid.

He waiting for Elwood to finish gloating before he ventured to speak, taking a few moments to gather himself. If he wasn’t careful, Hastings knew he would lose himself completely to his fury.

In this moment, he knew he needed to be as calm as possible.

“…. What is it you want, Mr. Elwood?”

A question spoken in an even tone. Nothing more. No threats, no games, no humoring his hubris.

The less Hastings engaged him, the less likely Elwood was to hurt his precious daughter for a cheap laugh. And so Hastings went straight to business. He wasn’t going to waist time.

The sooner Elwood told him what he wanted, the sooner Hastings could get his daughter back.

Hearing Pepper cry out only prompted more teasing from her captor. His brows furrowed in mock concern, he shook his head, a finger resting over his lips as he waited for Hastings to respond.

Elwood savoured every single reaction he could get out of Pepper. In his eyes, there was nothing more satisfying than seeing someone who had wronged him suffer. He sought the instant gratification that came with inflicting pain on others, and Pepper was here to please.

Once again, his attention was stolen by Hastings. He carelessly waved for one of his men, the same one as before, to continue his plight- that he was free to hurt Pepper as he saw fit. Merciless, this brute of a mobster delighted in his work almost as much as his boss did.

"Oh, straight to business, are we?" His demeanor far from matched Hastings in severity. No, he was having far too much fun with this. He could hear he'd gotten under his skin. "Well, I suppose you don't have much time to waste..."

"Simply put, Hastings, I want you out of my way. I won't have your business interfering with mine any longer." It was clear Elwood thought Hastings to be the most dangerous competition there was. Likely a correct assumption, but it was unlikely to be a sentiment Hastings reciprocated.

"I want to see you ruined."

Any chance to destroy such a contender could not be passed up.

"I'm having one of my men send over the full list of my demands as we speak." Despite not having entirely planned to contact Hastings, Elwood had not passed up the opportunity to make all the necessary preparations beforehand. "If you ever want to see your daughter again, you'll do what I want."

Almost giddy with power, Elwood was positively gleaming as he spoke on the phone. Never before had he held this much power, that much was clear. Like a child given free rein in a sweet shop, he refused to think of any consequences his unhindered greed might bring.

Over the course of Pepper’s considerable and dangerous career, she had become no stranger to life-threatening situations. However, this particular kidnapping was by far the strangest the agent had endured thusfar.

“The Dutchess,” as she introduced herself, made her demands very clear. She wanted to know the location of someone named Alvarez. In most hostage negotiations, Pepper at least had the benefit of understanding the situation, but the agent found herself unable to make sense of half of what the other woman was saying.

Her confusion spurred the Dutchess’ rage, Pepper’s bewilderment giving rise to accusations and sadistic ramifications. When Katherine de Cambout presented Pepper Green with the crystals she had found on her person -gifts from the agent’s eccentric girlfriend- and demanded to know their origin, Pepper could only look at the woman in puzzlement.

Was she being held captive over simple stones? A misunderstanding? Was this Dutchess some disturbed serial killer whose delusions dictated who she chose as her victims.

She was a terrifying woman.

At first, she had approached Pepper with unsettling allure, attempting to win the agent over with her unnatural charm. Her voice, her eyes, her lips, her touch -she was intoxicating- almost dizzyingly so.

But the sight of her made Pepper feel sick with anxiety, the Dutchess’ unsettling enticement unnerving the agent horribly.

It was as if the Dutchess could sense Pepper’s resistance on the deepest level. Her fury was swift, her sharp, finely manacured nails raking down the agent’s cheek as she hissed about how bothersome a thing love was.

It always made these sorts of things drag out, she said.

As it dragged on, the torture became less about business and more about pleasure- and oh what pleasure de Cambout took in her work. Her greatest pride was the mark she left for Alvarez to find on the agent, deep, gnarled claw marks dragging from the woman’s shoulder, down her chest- sealed with a kiss and full or arcane energy.

In her darkest moments, Pepper thought her time with the Dutchess would never end. There was no time where Pepper was. No light to reference, no peace. Every time exhaustion dragged the agent down, she would find herself roughly woken up again. Until she was moved, her bloodied, bound frame dragged and deposited somewhere extremely cold and dark.

The Dutchess said something the agent couldn’t quite make out, before blowing her a kiss and locking her into an industrial freezer.

The agent didn’t hold onto consciousness long enough for the cold to truly set in, nor to feel the affects on her battered body as the oxygen in the room began to thin.

Nor was she conscious when her savior finally arrived.

Clearly, this woman’s will was stronger than most. Byron couldn’t help but wonder if she knew just how much danger she had been in, or how lucky she was to get out of de Cambout’s manicured grasp. She much preferred to play with her food, it was all a part of her sadistic nature. A sick revenge fantasy that had spiralled entirely out of control after generations of hatred.

A sigh of relief, albeit small, escaped his lips as his guest finally stirred from her sleep. Regardless of how sure he was of himself, no matter how advanced his magic was, the threat of failure always loomed over him.

De Cambout made sure to keep him on his toes. Nothing was ever certain in dealings with her.

What he did not expect, however, was the first words that passed from her lips. He supposed it wasn’t too out of the ordinary, Byron had a grasp on just how much this woman meant to Altaire. For hours, he had been plagued with the question of whether what he had done was right. Whether he had made a mistake by rescuing her. But upon hearing this, he was put somewhat at ease. Pepper Green was important, he’d made the right call.

“No such luck, I’m afraid.” His tone was far from severe as he got to his feet, the scratching sound of writing coming to an end as he moved to a chair in the light, closer to his guest’s bedside. “Please, do try not to move. You had quite the run-in back there.“

He made the attempt to smile, trying to dissolve the undeniable tension that would no doubt fill the room. The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy of someone so close to his daughter. Especially considering the threat was far from over. His contact with the young agent would by no means end after this interaction.

The events of the night had clearly taken their toll on the sorcerer. Normally a formally dressed and put-together man, he lacked the composure he usually held. His eyes were dark and tired, although maintaining their mysterious gleam. Burgundy waistcoat unbuttoned, the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Any visible skin was entirely covered in strange runes and symbols, similar to many of the ‘tattoos’ Pepper would likely have seen on her girlfriend.

His resemblance to a certain artist was uncanny. Even in her disorientated state, he doubted it would be difficult for Pepper to put two and two together.

He had tried not to bear it too much thought, but Byron had been somewhat concerned about how she might react. He was all but unaware of just how much Altaire had told her about her family life, or apparent lack thereof. There was a chance this conversation would not run as smoothly as he hoped.

"Miss Green, I do apologise that we could not meet under better circumstances. How do you feel?”

Hearing Byron’s voice, non-aggressive as it was, did not set the injured agent’s mind at ease. Despite his warning, her disoriented eyes began to dart quickly around the strange room, her trembling breath quickening slightly as she visibly became cognizant of the fact that she was somewhere new.

With someone she did not know. Someone who looked upsettingly familiar.

“I… is…. th-this… another trick…?” The agent rasped out, grimacing as the pain radiating her body began to register. She was freezing, her body radiating feverish heat but gripped by a horrible, inescapable chill. The involuntary shivering of her limbs tore at her healing injuries, a cold sweat drenching the gauze that had been used to maticulously dress her wounds. A damp cloth rested uncomfortably on Pepper’s forehead, causing her to shudder as she looked up at the man who had saved her.

If he had actually saved her.

During her time with the Dutchess, Pepper Green’s perception of reality had begun to unravel. There was no logic in that place. No mercy. No sense to be made of the endless torture that Pepper had been forced to stomach. No explaination for the things she had seen.

Just as there was no explanation for Byron Alvarez. Even half-conscious and without her glasses, Pepper could clearly see the unmistakable resemblance the mysterious stranger shared with her girlfriend. As arcanely oblivious as she was, the agent could feel the connection between the two.

It was something she would have attributed to intuition. A gut feeling rather than what others would identify as magical energy. But what mattered was that she could tell.

This man was related to Altaire Thornton.

Given everything the agent had just endured and what little family history Altaire had shared with her, this realization did not serve to bring Pepper any sort of comfort.

“Wh-what…. is this….?”

It was clear that the haggard agent was extremely on edge, despite Byron’s best efforts. Given the circumstances- given all that she’d just endured- it was only natural. However, whether on account of Byron’s warning or as a result of her horrible condition, Pepper made no attempts to move from her current position.

Even Pepper Green, stubborn and wary as she was, was not that foolish.

His distinct magical aura was where the similarities between him and her ended. While she carried an air corrupted by malice and contempt, his was distinctly warmer and more welcoming. It was something Pepper had most certainly experienced before, in the presence of her girlfriend.

"I am Byron Alvarez." In any other circumstance, he would have offered her his bejewelled hand, but opted against it given the state she was in. "I suspect you may have heard that name before..."

What other reason would the Duchess have to abduct Pepper Green, if not in search for him? The sorcerer had seen this happen time and time again- people close to his family being interrogated, tortured, just for intel on his bloodline's whereabouts.

Byron was very much aware that Altaire had been through too much, held too much contempt for him to ever mention his name to anyone she was close to. His desire to keep his daughter safe from this singular threat had indeed resulted in a lifetime of troubles for her.

No matter how much easier it would make this current situation, he could hardly blame his daughter for electing to not tell Pepper Green about his existence.

"I believe you are close to my daughter, Altaire." A grimace crossed over his face as he mentioned her name. It was clearly far from easy for him to talk about, he feared her reaction. There was no talking himself out of things here.

"I am sorry that we could not meet under better circumstances- well, I am sorry that we had to meet at all." This was without a doubt the most precarious situatuon Byron had found himself in for years. He was far too old to take this kind of risk.

His neck was well and truly on the line for Pepper Green.

"I owe you an apology, Miss Green." A jewelled hand came to rest over his heart, an earnest gleam in his eyes. "I should have put a stop to what happened to you last night before I did. She treated you with a level of cruelty I have not seen in quite some time."

Over the course of Pepper’s considerable and dangerous career, she had become no stranger to life-threatening situations. However, this particular kidnapping was by far the strangest the agent had endured thusfar.

“The Dutchess,” as she introduced herself, made her demands very clear. She wanted to know the location of someone named Alvarez. In most hostage negotiations, Pepper at least had the benefit of understanding the situation, but the agent found herself unable to make sense of half of what the other woman was saying.

Her confusion spurred the Dutchess’ rage, Pepper’s bewilderment giving rise to accusations and sadistic ramifications. When Katherine de Cambout presented Pepper Green with the crystals she had found on her person -gifts from the agent’s eccentric girlfriend- and demanded to know their origin, Pepper could only look at the woman in puzzlement.

Was she being held captive over simple stones? A misunderstanding? Was this Dutchess some disturbed serial killer whose delusions dictated who she chose as her victims.

She was a terrifying woman.

At first, she had approached Pepper with unsettling allure, attempting to win the agent over with her unnatural charm. Her voice, her eyes, her lips, her touch -she was intoxicating- almost dizzyingly so.

But the sight of her made Pepper feel sick with anxiety, the Dutchess’ unsettling enticement unnerving the agent horribly.

It was as if the Dutchess could sense Pepper’s resistance on the deepest level. Her fury was swift, her sharp, finely manacured nails raking down the agent’s cheek as she hissed about how bothersome a thing love was.

It always made these sorts of things drag out, she said.

As it dragged on, the torture became less about business and more about pleasure- and oh what pleasure de Cambout took in her work. Her greatest pride was the mark she left for Alvarez to find on the agent, deep, gnarled claw marks dragging from the woman’s shoulder, down her chest- sealed with a kiss and full or arcane energy.

In her darkest moments, Pepper thought her time with the Dutchess would never end. There was no time where Pepper was. No light to reference, no peace. Every time exhaustion dragged the agent down, she would find herself roughly woken up again. Until she was moved, her bloodied, bound frame dragged and deposited somewhere extremely cold and dark.

The Dutchess said something the agent couldn’t quite make out, before blowing her a kiss and locking her into an industrial freezer.

The agent didn’t hold onto consciousness long enough for the cold to truly set in, nor to feel the affects on her battered body as the oxygen in the room began to thin.

Nor was she conscious when her savior finally arrived.

And there were a lot of threats. De Cambout had crafted it that way. There was nothing she wouldn't do to hunt him down. She stuck to him like a shadow of malice, always seeming to follow just a few steps behind.

It wasn't a life he would wish on anybody else, least of all his daughter.

He spared no expense, and was of the belief that every corner was covered. Altaire was to live an ordinary life, safe from the knowledge that any danger was ever to befall her. There was nothing the sorcerer wouldn't do to ensure her wellbeing, even if it meant leaving her indefinitely.

And all had been well. Years passed without incident, Altaire being none the wiser of the ever-looming threat that Byron fought day after day. He kept a close eye on his only child, watching her grow up from afar. He was aware of her whereabouts, her friends, her relationships, but the opportunity to be present had long since been given up.

Perhaps it was this presumed safety that caused this incident. He hadn't been careful enough, too convinced of his own success.

He knew of Pepper Green, the newest addition to Altaire's closest circle. She seemed much more trustworthy than the others, Byron had noted the speed at which his daughter had chosen to spend the majority of her time with this particular woman.

She was a special one, important. Precisely what the Duchess would be drawn to.

Byron was far from inexperienced in her very meticulous ways. He had suspected something such as this to transpire, he had been extremely aware of the threat Miss Green was under long before she was abducted. Intervening too early would result in certain disaster, every move had to be planned to a fault.

He thought that de Cambout would have realised by now that regular locks did nothing to stop Byron.

Extraction was no trouble at all. Biding his time, it wasn't long before the perfect moment presented itself. He had already left the freezer before anybody even caught wind of his presence.

Now that Pepper Green was safely in his protection, Byron got straight to work. And his work was set out for him indeed. Casting his iconic hat and cloak aside, he wiped his brow, rolled up his shirt sleeves and began the lengthy healing process.

Hours spent toiling away at the young woman's bedside, an unnatural blue light illuminating the shadowy room. If Pepper were to open her eyes in this very moment- something that would not have been impossible in her current state- she would have seen a display that questioned just about everything she once knew to be true.

His braided hair, ribbons and feathers woven in the strands, stood on end with no regard for gravity. Electric blue light eminated from his eyes, the strange runic symbols that adorned his skin glowing in a similar fashion. He had no choice but to unbutton her already tattered shirt, placing a glowing palm on the claw marks raking down her skin, muttering incessantly under his breath in an unintelligible tongue.

The sun was creeping over the horizon as he finished his work, but the curtains to the room remained firmly drawn- casting the room deep in shadows. Wax dripped from tall candles lit in the room's corners, the rich and familiar smell of incense filling the air.

The sorcerer sat at his desk, half bathed in darkness, eyes trained on the bed on the other side of the room. The sound of a pen scratching at parchment filled the air, seemingly writing by its own accord.

It shouldn't be long now, and at the very least they were safe. The enchantments on the room were water-tight, there was no chance of being found at this rate. In Byron's opinion, however, there was no time to waste.

Discolored, cracked lips parted slightly, Altaire’s name quietly slipping between them.

The agent, who understood her girlfriend to be a wonderfully eccentric artist, had never been one to notice the arcane forces which surrounded her. The crystals, symbols, and incense Altaire surrounded herself with were, as far as Pepper could tell, simply an extension of her style and personality, rather than something she suspected to hold any actual power. Though Pepper had often expressed her view that Altaire was a creature of certain divinity, she was quite sure that she wasn’t magical.

Then again, Altaire’s shoulder messages were quite remarkable. Her presence and touch had always provided Pepper with indescribable comfort.

Perhaps there was something supernatural about Altaire Thornton’s allure. Enticing, though soothing in a way that de Cambout could never be.

Katherine de Cambout delighted in sadism, using her arcane talents for control and personal pleasure. The wounds left on Pepper Green by the Dutchess were distinct- typical of the witch’s particular brand of torture. Lipstick and lacerations. The marks left by her long, talon-like nails dragging down skin. Deep bruising, blood, and broken bones. Byron had seen such wounds on countless others- family, friends, strangers who had suffered senselessly to meet her mad delight.

It was rare that she left her victims alive and rarer still that she claimed them.

Byron was no doubt given the horrible impression that the Duchess had taken a liking to Pepper.

As Byron’s attention turned to de Cambout’s mark, a soft, strained cry escaping the agent, sweat suddenly permeating her shivering form as her body tensed and jerked in place. Even in her semi-conscious state, it was extremely apparent that Pepper was in agony, her expression locked in a horrible grimace. The process of removing the mark, as Byron was surely aware, was excruciating.

It wasn’t something most people would be able to bear. Given how grave the agent’s condition had been when Byron had found her, it was a miracle she had the strength to endure it. His attempts to improve her condition, while certainly not enough to bring her anywhere close to a full recovery, had settled her chills some. Her broken bones had set in place, her bleeding stopped, and her bruises beginning to discolor.

However, the mark the Dutchess has left her with -the gashes raking down her chest and shoulder- showed little improvement, even as Byron attempted to extract de Cambout’s dark energy from Pepper’s wound. It remained fresh. Angry. Burning with centuries of scorn.

Freshly bandaged and laying under as many blankets as Byron could find, Pepper lay in an exhausted sleep, her breath heavy and labored as she shuddered in her sleep, still unable to shake her horrible chills. When the agent finally opened her eyes, she found herself squinting blearily in dim candlelight.

Pepper would have thought that she was waking to some fresh new torment had it not been for Byron’s presence, which provided a strange familiar sense of comfort to her dulled senses. She caught sight of the figure at the desk and, in her delirium and without her glasses, her girlfriend’s name once again passed breathlessly between her lips.

Clearly, this woman's will was stronger than most. Byron couldn't help but wonder if she knew just how much danger she had been in, or how lucky she was to get out of de Cambout's manicured grasp. She much preferred to play with her food, it was all a part of her sadistic nature. A sick revenge fantasy that had spiralled entirely out of control after generations of hatred.

A sigh of relief, albeit small, escaped his lips as his guest finally stirred from her sleep. Regardless of how sure he was of himself, no matter how advanced his magic was, the threat of failure always loomed over him.

De Cambout made sure to keep him on his toes. Nothing was ever certain in dealings with her.

What he did not expect, however, was the first words that passed from her lips. He supposed it wasn't too out of the ordinary, Byron had a grasp on just how much this woman meant to Altaire. For hours, he had been plagued with the question of whether what he had done was right. Whether he had made a mistake by rescuing her. But upon hearing this, he was put somewhat at ease. Pepper Green was important, he'd made the right call.

"No such luck, I'm afraid." His tone was far from severe as he got to his feet, the scratching sound of writing coming to an end as he moved to a chair in the light, closer to his guest's bedside. "Please, do try not to move. You had quite the run-in back there." 

He made the attempt to smile, trying to dissolve the undeniable tension that would no doubt fill the room. The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy of someone so close to his daughter. Especially considering the threat was far from over. His contact with the young agent would by no means end after this interaction.

The events of the night had clearly taken their toll on the sorcerer. Normally a formally dressed and put-together man, he lacked the composure he usually held. His eyes were dark and tired, although maintaining their mysterious gleam. Burgundy waistcoat unbuttoned, the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Any visible skin was entirely covered in strange runes and symbols, similar to many of the 'tattoos' Pepper would likely have seen on her girlfriend.

His resemblance to a certain artist was uncanny. Even in her disorientated state, he doubted it would be difficult for Pepper to put two and two together.

He had tried not to bear it too much thought, but Byron had been somewhat concerned about how she might react. He was all but unaware of just how much Altaire had told her about her family life, or apparent lack thereof. There was a chance this conversation would not run as smoothly as he hoped.

“What was it, then? I didn’t even think I was imposing on his business…” Elwood hadn’t spent that much time at all even considering what on earth Hastings wanted with him. He’d expected Pepper to provide him an answer without too much questioning.

He may have been expecting an answer, but was quickly coming to the realisation that he may not receive one so easily. Charles Elwood, despite what he may have come to believe about himself, was terrible at reading people. Without Altaire by his side to whisper in his ear, he couldn’t pick up on people’s subtle tells.

But, as he saw Pepper react with frustration, his face lit up in a delighted surprise as he thought he was putting two and two together.Unbeknownst to him, Elwood was simply giving her exacly what she wanted- falling for her facade completely.

“Oh! He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he laughed to himself- incredulous in face of this new revelation. “Does he even know you’re here? You went behind Daddy’s back and came here without him, didn’t you?”

He was impressed, even if this was a narrative he had concocted in his own head. Elwood had simply been toying with the idea of contacting Hastings, using it mainly as a tactic to get to Pepper. But now, in the light of this new information, he knew it was a route he had to take.

“I think we should see what he thinks, don’t you?” Another signal over to one of his men, he was handed a mobile phone. Elwood’s carelessness had never been more evident than his lack of precautions in this situation. It would really be no difficulty in the slightest for Hastings to track them down.

“Try anything and you’re dead- got it?”

If any of his men had tried to raise such a concern with him, it was clear he had disregarded it entirely as he dialed Hasting’s number, Stood in the center of theroom, he placed a finger to his lips, smiling maliciously down at Pepper as he waited for Hastings to pick up.

“Hello, Perceval Hastings- I presume?” Elwood’s tone was polite, almost overtly so. He looked down at Pepper with an almost condescending smile. “I’m Charles Elwood, I’m sure you’ve heard of me. Do you know why I’m calling?”

Pepper Green was, among many other things, very good at her job. She had always been quite skilled at reading people, a talent which lent itself extremely well to high-stress situations.

Charles Elwood was conceited, temperamental, and entirely predictable.

The agent’s eyes flashed dangerously in response to the man’s “realization,” a low growl of frustration rising at the back of her throat as he mentioned her daddy.

“I don’t need… anyone’s permission to do anything.” Pepper hissed, speaking between gritted teeth. “Least of all his.”

Rage filled her breath, her expression one of brewing fury. She was, after all, a talented actress. If her performance during her time as Oli Greyson had not been enough proof of this fact, her complete manipulation of Elwood in this moment certainly was.

Pepper Green was, privatley, immensely relieved as the man triumphantly began to call her father’s number, too preoccupied with his own sadism to consider the horrible mistake he was making. Outwardly the agent seethed, wordless and glaring daggers as the man began to speak into the reciever.

She could have cried in relief when she distantly caught the sound of her father’s voice on the other line.

The call itself had taken a few moments to get to him, transferring between surprised underlings who dutifully transferred the line to their employer. When Percival Hastings was informed it was Charled Elwood on the other line, he knew it could only mean one thing.

He entertained delusions, for a moment, that it was a cooincidence. That perhaps the man simply wanted to discuss business. But the moment Hastings heard his voice and the triumph buried beneath it, he immiatley understood that the worst had happened.

He would never dare praise her, but even Elwood had to admit she was quite the actress. Just not good enough for the likes of him.

Face lighting up in a shocked gtin, a bewildered bark of laughter escaped his lips. He seemed on the verge of replying- mocking her for her anger- but his attention was diverted as the line clicked and he had more important business to attend to.

"Hush now, Green. The grown ups are talking."

Perfectly patronising. He knew it would get under her skin.

The second he heard Hastings on the line, he turned on speaker phone and signalled for one of his men to strike Pepper once more, a fist colliding with her stomach eith tremendous force. Elwood wanted him to know the extent of the situation as soon as possible. No time could be wasted in getting straight to business, he wasted no time in letting the other man on the phone know the violent nature of the situation at hand.

"Rather pressing indeed..." He mused, barely being able to conceal his undeniable excitement under his professional guise. He looked down at Pepper with a malicious gleam in his eye, flicking his tongue over his teeth- his grin cold and merciless.

His confidence was all but getting the better of him, and it would undoubtedly be his downfall.

"You know, Hastings, it's funny." He began to pace around the room, loosening his tie with his spare hand. "I didn't have you pegged as a family man. You did quite the job of keeping this daughter of yours under wraps..."

"I wonder if you know where she is now, though?"

The pleasure Elwood appeared to be taking in this endeavour to toy with Hastings- a man he considered to be so elite in the business- was immeasurable. A man he competed with endlessly, a man he was quite frankly terrified of- even if he would never admit it.

He knew the power this man held. He had seen the things he was capable of. There was a reason he had taught Altaire that Hastings was a man to avoid at all costs, that he could not be trusted. Having something like Pepper to dangle over his head was precisely what he needed to ensure success in both his business and personal life.