all's fair

The woods were the best place for this. Daiyu did not intend to do as Talia had, to find out where she lived and strike her down on her living room floor. It was too risky, anyhow — there were people that knew she wanted to kill her and she had no doubt that her intentions had leaked past her trusted few. A house was easily protected. The woods were wild and free. It was a fighting ground she was used to. It was a place that seemed infinite in its memories and opportunities. Whatever were to happen here today, she would be glad it had happened in the woods.

Eve had supplied her with the werewolf’s work schedule. Starting and ending time, as well as the areas that Talia was expected to go over. She was endlessly grateful to have a friend who could get her the information she needed without her having to shake someone down. Daiyu wanted this to be quick and easy. She did not want Talia to be aware she was intending to cut her down on her working grounds. She did not want her to expect a thing, but she knew she could not be so lucky.

She’d set up in an area of the woods where the briefing had said something about a part of the trail being blocked. Talia would have to come through, she figured, and as it was near the end of the route, she could even honor Eve’s wishes to not attack until the end of the shifter’s shift. Daiyu laid in wait. She had not paid any attention to what was blocking the path, was simply ensuring that her pistol was working well. That the silver bullets were ready. That her knife was sharp enough. She was too occupied with thoughts of whether she should give Talia the end she had imagined for her – one that was slow and painful – or whether she should just go for a swift bullet to the head. She knew what was wisest, and she knew what she wanted. They were in disagreement.

Eventually something seemed to tug at her navel. A shifter nearby. Daiyu grit her teeth, undoing the safety of her pistol and stepping onto the trail. Between herself and Talia laid the obstruction, but it would do little to stop her bullet from reaching its target. She looked at her appear on the other side and took aim. Her head wanted to go for the skull, her heart for the leg. She did not shoot yet. “You know, it really didn’t have to fucking come to this,” she bit, stepping forward onto a patch of grass between them. 

—

Anxiety and insecurity had become Talia’s twin companions for the better part of a month. Every since she had it confirmed that Daiyu was not planning on taking her attack lying down. She should have assumed as much, of course. Everything she knew about the ranger had informed her of the likelihood of that outcome. The aftermath hadn’t been included in her calculations, there was no reality beyond the need to eradicate the hunter who had killed Tabitha. And now she was paying for her shortsightedness. 

It was always humbling, as an adult to realize your parents were right. Not about the mission, but about the tenet that revenge served no purpose. 

In large part, Talia had been less worried about what would actually come of Daiyu seeking to settle their score and more sick with shame over what she had done. In those clarifying moments that she had thought might be her last, Talia had found the error of her ways. Daiyu shouldn’t have killed Tabitha, but nothing was gained from her creating a mission from her sister’s death. All her efforts had done were make her feel like she was living under her pack’s rule once again. There had been no peace, or closure in lunging for Daiyu’s throat. Closure was sitting on the floor with Emilio in November and staring up at the candle-lit ofrenda wreathed in pictures of their loved ones. It was laying out with Daniel on the couch to swap stories about their sisters. It was helping Rory find and tame her wolf.

If only she had learned that before tracking Daiyu to her cabin and trying to kill her.

Despite the strange emotional milieu that had been surrounding, Talia didn’t think anything much about investigating an obstruction on the path. Those happened often enough and, as they were usually a downed tree after a storm, were fairly simple to handle. Arriving at the point in question, though, she didn’t notice anything amiss. It was just a grassy clearing. That was, until Daiyu stepped out from the edge of the trees. There was a gun trained on her, then, and Talia could smell the silver from their short distance. Shots to kill, then. At the very least, to hurt her as much as possible. 

“It didn’t,” she agreed. Her tone was flat – this was her fault, but she couldn’t bring herself to show that contrition to Daiyu. He hands were up, though, spread, to show the ranger that she wasn’t interested in a fight. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to fight, either. Taking a careful step closer, Talia trailed her eyes over Daiyu to see if she could spot any other weapons or an indication toward a partner in crime. “Are you going to shoot me, then? Leave me for dead until someone can come and hide my body.”

–

Talia spread her hands up in the air, showing no weapons in them. Daiyu found no comfort there. Though the werewolf had fought her as a human last time, she knew better than to assume she'd do the same this round. Her hands were just hands now, but they could become claws. A werewolf was a weapon in and of itself, especially someone raised in the pack Talia had dwelled from. She remembered how well her twin had fought. She remembered how Talia had fought her in her own home. Maybe she didn't even need her claws. 

The fact that they had both been brought up as weapons was not lost upon her. It did very little to stir up any empathy or understanding, though. Every individual had an ability to be volatile. Someone who knew where she lived, who had wormed her way into the hearts of people Daiyu once cared about — that was the kind of volatility she could not stand. She felt the gun in her hand. Even if Talia's empty hands were hardly a comfort, Daiyu still had that working in her favor. Silver bullets would tear through her in a moment, ending the unrest that had lived within her ever since that moment in the gym.  

And what had Talia done but make it worse? When she had stalked her at a restaurant, had faced her on the streets and broken her nose, she had made it clear what her intent was. When she had attempted to follow up on that, she'd come into her house and fought with the intent to kill but had failed. She'd wrought havoc on her social circle, pulling Emilio and Wyatt so close to her that they'd turned their back. 

It didn't have to come to this, but it had. Daiyu would not be chased out of the town she had grown used to. She would not live for fear of her own life. She would not accept it. 

“Nice place to die, don't you think? The woods,” she said it and she meant it, “Better than someone's living room floor. Or your very fucking own.” She thought about Talia's body. Eve could clean it up and she would, without a doubt. She would have hid for her somewhere far in the brush with a rifle and not said the wrong thing in the aftermath. But Daiyu didn't want to drag Eve into this, at least not yet. She opted for meanness in stead, “Might burn you.” 

That was what they had done with Tabitha and the other would-be ambushers, after all. Burned the bodies. Left no corpse that would satisfy the grief that had undoubtedly made a close friend of Talia.  

She moved forward. The grass seemed to reach for her. She took aim, not wanting to get lost the way Talia had. She was here for one thing only. Daiyu put her finger on the trigger and pulled without hesitation. There was no bang. Not much of a recoil either. In stead, bubbles flowed from the gun, drifting up into the air and towards Talia. “What the actual fuck.” She pulled the trigger again, and more bubbles followed. Iridescent and dreamy, they filled the air between them as Daiyu kept pulling the trigger, to little avail. 

–

It was, actually. A nice place to die. Talia had loved the woods her whole life – in Montana and then Arkansas, and now, here, in Maine. Even with Daiyu, her sworn enemy, standing in front of her with a gun, she was still thankful to be in the woods. And yes, if she had to die that day, she would want it to be there. Her wish would be to have someone with her for it, Daniel or Emilio, or Wyatt but– Who got there wish of where, or how, they got to die? Almost no one.

(Just the other night, in bed with Daniel. Talking about growing old together. Jokes about being hot with grey hair, dancing around the topic of whether there’d be a family with them. She had been stupid to think that was something she got to have.)

“Don’t,” and it was close enough to begging that she heard her sister’s voice in her ear. “Don’t do that, please.” She couldn’t stand the thought of turning to ash and drifting on the wind. For so long, the ache of not having anywhere to mourn her sister, to visit her remains, had been a wound. It still was one. Metzli had explained about not needing a place, about honoring her anywhere she felt her sister’s presence. But she wanted there to be something left of her. So she could sink into the dirt. So the worms could find her. So she could return to the earth.

It wasn’t that she was ready to die. She wanted to live just as badly as she had discovered on the floor of Daiyu’s cabin. Even more, maybe, with the responsibilities she now had, to Daniel, to Rory. But she was also tired. Exhausted from vigilance over the situation with Daiyu. The situation that she herself had made. This, at least, would be an end to it. It would be over, finally. Talia only hoped that the arrow’s path would end with her. Don’t kill for me, she sent a silent prayer to Daniel. Let there be no more death, no more revenge, from this vector. 

However pathetic it was to stand her ground and allow Daiyu to kill her, Talia was at least strong enough to keep her eyes open, to meet her death head on, so she saw the bubbles. Adrenaline was still seeping, cold, through her system. “What the fuck?” It blurted out of her, almost in tandem with Daiyu’s exclamation. Another pull on the trigger, more bubbles. “Is this some sick joke?” Had the ranger just wanted to see her face? Scare her? 

But that didn’t make any sense. Daiyu wanted her dead. She wouldn’t waste an opportunity just to scare her. “I don’t get it.” Talia’s lungs were still heaving, fists clenching at her sides. The bubbles that streamed from Daiyu’s gun drifted on the air, dancing in the light breeze. A few made it far enough to caress her face before popping. It didn’t sting, or hurt, or burn. It didn’t feel like anything. It felt like…a soap bubble popping. 

Her breathing canted up a degree as, paradoxically, she took a step closer. She only meant to knock the gun from Daiyu’s hands. Maybe even to take it, to inspect it and see just what the fuck the ranger was playing at. The punch never landed. Instead Talia’s arm swung up wildly and she spun on her toe, like an ice dancer or a child playing fairies. When she landed back on both feet, her eyes were wide and boring into Daiyu. “What the fuck is going on?”

—

The soft way that Talia said don’t in response to her statement that she’d burn her made Daiyu feel a sick sort of triumph. All these weeks since the other’s attempt on her life she had felt the urge to beg people. To beg them to have her back, to beg them to make her feel safe, to beg them to not make everything feel so nebulous and confusing. She wanted Talia to feel as desperate as she had, when she had seen Emilio walk into her house. When she had witnessed him choosing her would-be-killer over her. She wished she had someone with her who could make her feel the betrayal she had felt then, but for now this was enough. 

But there was something sick about it too, because somewhere under all the resentment and hatred, there was still the pragmatic and swift killer who did not much care for drawing shit out. That might come later, once she’d be back home washing the blood off her and retiring to bed. Where there was time to ruminate on the role Talia had played in the lives of people Daiyu cared about, about all the stupid endless questions about morality and revenge. Right now though, there was only her need to end this.

The gun did not act the way it should, though. The final blow that should follow her pull of the trigger never came. There were just the bubbles floating between them, ten rounds of them. The recoil of her gun felt strange too, the glock useless as she watched the iridescent circles dance around them. 

“You think I fucking do? You think I —” She did not want to be among cheery bubbles at any given time, but especially not now. Not when faced with her prime foe, with her sworn and lethal enemy, the person whose life she intended to end here and now. She always hunted with determination, but this was a new kind. And all she got was bubbles. 

Talia moved closer to her and Daiyu grew defensive, ready to do this bare handed if she needed to. But the werewolf never lunged for her — she spun around in stead and the sight was so stupid that Daiyu almost laughed. But when Talia looked at her with that furious look, her own anger was right back in her chest, burning like a never-ceasing furnace. “Fuck if I know.” She moved her arm back to throw the gun into the other’s face as a disarming maneuvre, but in stead of throwing it, she just moved her hands forward and did some fingering tricks with the gun, spinning it in her hands.

“Fuck!” Daiyu threw the gun aside now, feeling a large personal betrayal towards her chosen weapon. She lunged forward to throw Talia to the ground, but some invisible force bounced her aside and she fell face-flat onto the grass.

—

Daiyu had the audacity to get pissed off at her. To act as if this wasn’t all her doing. “It’s your fucking gun,” Talia answered back as Daiyu claimed ignorance. Why wouldn’t Talia assume that she knew what was going on? She had tracked her down that day, come to finish the job. Only to play some kind of fucked up mind game instead. All for the sake of, what? Making her think that she was going to die? Why not just kill her? Why not just kill her? That’s what Daiyu wanted, Talia knew.

…That’s what she wanted, more than she would have wanted to play some kind of prank, or pull the rug on Talia. And the ranger looked genuinely angry and, underneath that, frustrated and confused. This wasn’t Daiyu’s doing. Which meant this was just some strain of Wicked’s Rest weirdness getting to them. Magic, maybe? An effect from some nearby beast?

The theory that something was off solidified as Talia found herself unable to bat the weapon out of Daiyu’s hands. Whatever the something was, it appeared to be affecting both of them, by preventing them from attacking each other – as Daiyu dived for her and ended up eating grass. Talia hadn’t even had time to lunge to the side, that’s how quickly it had gotten ahold of Daiyu. Which meant it wasn’t likely to be someone, or something, watching them and reacting to their moves. Rather, it had to be something in the environment – or a spell placed over both of them.

The latter didn’t make much sense. Daiyu and Talia hadn’t been in the same place (Talia had made sure of that) since that disastrous night at Daiyu’s home. So it couldn’t have been some accident or fluke. There were plenty of other people, though, caught up in the tangled web that she and Daiyu had made of their vendetta. Which meant plenty of people who could have wanted them to make nice. That could have been a possibility, but it was a distant one. The only people Talia knew who cared enough about to try such a thing would be Daniel, Wyatt, or Emilio. And she didn’t think any of them would go messing around with magic, especially a spell directly on her and Daiyu. 

No, the only logical explanation was that there was something around them that was doing this. Huffing out a sigh, Talia recognized that she would have to let Daiyu know. “I think there’s something…around here that’s causing this. Some kind of…peace-loving supernatural bird or some shit.” She distantly recalled a bird that could make people feel calm, but this wasn’t that. They both obviously still felt the same violence toward each other, and had that impetus to attack. They just weren’t able to complete the actions. Should they just…leave? Each go their separate ways? Somehow Talia didn’t think Daiyu would accept that. And even if she did, the mystery of exactly what spell they were under would still need to be solved.

—

“I didn’t fucking buy a bubble gun and bring it into the woods to prank you,” she snapped back, finding the whole idea almost too ludicrous to even say out loud. She was here to kill Talia, to nip a cycle of revenge in the bud before it would find its way to her doorstep again, but in stead the air was filled with bubbles. At least most of them had burst now, no longer laughing her square in the face with their floating presence.

She pushed herself up from the grass with an angry grunt, wanting nothing more to try to get to the werewolf across from her. She knew that whatever was going on demanded some kind of investigation, that there was some magical reason that should explain why her gun and body were not working. If it was just her gun, it would be easy to explain away as interference with an object. But when Talia had come for her, she had spun like a dancer and when Daiyu had tried to lunge for her, she had ended up with a grass-stain on her chin. She rubbed at it, worsening it as her hands were also green.

She had no time for this. She had no time for the stupid bullshit that happened in this town, no time to figure out what was going on and undo it so she could get on with it. She had lost the element of surprise now, and surely the magazine of her gun was empty despite the fact that she had not shot any actual bullets. Daiyu was not thinking about the nonsense at hand, was in stead trying to think of ways to ensure that Talia would not turn into some large, hounding beast that could tear her limb from limb. 

But then Talia spoke. Not with a snarl, not with an insult, not even with an accusation. “There’s no supernatural bird like that,” she said swiftly, wanting nothing more than to undermine the other’s working theory. Daiyu did feel her eyes go up, then down, then around. Her mind was going over beasts that could have the effect Talia described, but came up empty. Something else, then. “Knowing my luck it’s probably a fucking worm,” she muttered under her breath, looking up at Talia. This time she upped the volume of her voice, “You sure this not some fucking protection charm you got going on? Seems like the cowardly thing someone like you’d do. Rely on someone or something else.”

—

“There absolutely is a bird that makes you feel calm. Some fucking ranger you are.” Talia couldn’t resist the urge to snipe at Daiyu. Though, really, she should have kept her mouth shut. With her luck, Daiyu would go and research that bird and make it their new enemy and wipe the whole species out of existence. If there was anyone who could become a one-person extinction event, it was a Volkov. That’s what they did. That’s all they were good for.

(No, she whispered to herself, behind all of that. No, because if that were true, it would be right to cull them all. That’s what her pack had wanted her to believe. That’s what rangers like the Volkovs believed of werewolves and other shifters. She knew it wasn’t so black and white because nestled firmly in the grey of it all was Daniel. And, now, herself.)

She wanted to argue that relying on another person wasn’t cowardice. In many instances, it could even be smart strategy. (The hunters that her sister had been waiting to kill had relied on someone else, after all. They had relied on Daiyu and their family…) But Talia wasn’t a therapist and she doubted the ranger would listen to her anyway. “I don’t fuck around with magic.” That side of the supernatural, and the fae adjacent to it, made her uncomfortable in a way that wasn’t necessarily fair. And was probably a shade hypocritical as well but– she wasn’t a therapist. At least she didn’t go around slaying every fairy she found. 

Her suspicion of magic wholesale might be unfair, but that didn’t mean magic wasn’t the culprit here. Talia’s eyes flickered to the stain on Daiyu’s chin, on their hands. There was a distant memory of a story coming to her – something to do with fae and grass. Crouching, she ran her hand along the green beneath them. It looked and felt like normal grass. And from what Talia could scent, it even smelled like normal grass. But it would add up. “I think maybe it’s… There’s some kind of fairy grass.”

She strained to remember what she knew of it, where she had heard the story in the first place. Most likely her Uncle Titus. If there was a far off story that sounded vaguely untrue, it was usually from him. There wasn’t much to it, as she remembered. Just patches of grass that fae had enchanted. Or planted? And it did something different based on what the fairy wanted, or even of its own accord. “Guess some fucking…hippie fairy planted a patch to make everyone give peace a chance or whatever the fuck.”

The real question was, were they stuck there?

—

She narrowed her eyes, racking her brain for such a bird. Probably not bestial in nature. Not really something she concerned herself with much anyway — most people wanted threatening creatures dead, not the ones making you feel relaxed and pacifistic. Daiyu, however, was feeling a level of hypothetical rage for this bird, as it was getting in the way of her finishing off the Talia-issue. 

“Don’t think you should be insulting my skills as a ranger,” she snarled back. She did not voice the unsaid: that thinking her a shit ranger, was implying that Talia’s sister had been easy pickings. In a way she had been, if only because she and the other rangers had had the element of surprise and had outnumbered the werewolves. Daiyu was ready to rehash those bits of the past. Her modus operandi was not to draw out the suffering of her kills, but if she could not cause any physical harm to Talia, she at least had the memory of her twin’s body burning on hand.

Her mind was not so much on what was causing this, rather on the seething anger that kept on furling and unfurling in her stomach. To be around the woman who had come into her house to murder her without the ability to lay hands on her was maddening. Talia was talking, trying to investigate what was going on and she was sure it was a farce. That she had somehow figured out that Daiyu had tracked her down and orchestrated some stupid way to keep her from hurting her? 

Yes, Talia had tried and failed to punch her, but that was probably just show. She had to find a way to defend herself the moment Talia dropped the act and came for her. Wouldn’t that be ironic? For her to try and set an ambush for Talia but die in stead? Daiyu realized the potential parallel to her twin’s death there.

She tried to focus on what Talia was saying, if only to pick apart the lies for what they were. “Fairy grass,” she echoed, incredulous. “Don’t let them fucking hear you calling it that, the fae I mean — fairy grass.” She looked down at their feet, at the startlingly green patch of grass that stretched around their feet. Fae could have domains pretty much anywhere, she knew, so she did not doubt that grass could be among it.

“For the fucking record, I don’t believe you one bit,” she said, before starting to stomp away from Talia and the grass. When she reached the edge, though, her legs carried her around it, rather than across it. Daiyu muttered another, “What the fuck,” as she tried to force herself to stand on pine needles or mulch in stead, but her feet seemed determined to stick to the grass. She whipped to look at Talia, standing on the same patch as her, still. “Give peace a chance you said, huh? That’s fucking hilarious.”

—

“Okay, well I don’t fucking know,” Talia swept her arms up a big, sarcastic gesture. “Sorry, I don’t hang out with fairies. I try to avoid them, actually, so I don’t know all their specific…whatever. Slurs or shit.” She made a mental note to torment Baz with that a bit the next time they met. Or maybe she could ask Estella about it. With Teagan gone, those two were the only fae Talia knew. Would any fae be able to help their circumstances here? She would fucking not be seeking out Baz’s help, that much was certain. Talia’s ego was still recovering from having to buy them a replacement for their precious fucking vape the last time they helped her out. And even if the nymph could help, Talia barely knew Estella. 

As Daiyu turned on their heel and made for the ede of the little clearing, Talia watched with careful interest, every muscle tense. If it was just a matter of stepping out of the grass’s circle, then they would easily be able to harm Talia from the outside. Unless…maybe their blows wouldn’t land if she were still inside? The specific mechanics didn’t matter much – Talia wouldn’t be sticking around to find out. The second Daiyu put their foot down outside the bounds of the protection of the grass, she would make a run for it. Let Daiyu call her a coward for bolting. Maybe it would even be true. One good thing had come from all of that aftermath: Talia had learned she wanted to live. She wasn’t willing to die, not even for a cause as worthy as avenging her sister. 

(Coward, a voice whispered at the back of her mind, and it wasn’t Daiyu’s, but her sister’s.)

All that musing was for naught, though, as the grass proved an impenetrable boundary. One that she and Daiyu were stuck within together. “Great,” she muttered, hands on her hips. So they were trapped there and they couldn’t even take their frustration out on each other. If this were a movie, the grass would have some objective that needed to be cleared before they could go free. Like time loops – you just had to learn the moral lesson whatever divine entity that trapped you wanted you to learn. But this was Wicked’s Rest. Talia didn’t think the two of them hugging and making up would be the answer to their problem. The fae grass wasn’t a plot device, just some shitty grass planted by some asshole fae that meant she was trapped here with the ranger who had sworn her to be their mortal enemy. 

“Do you believe me now?” Why in the fuck would she want to be caught here with Daiyu? She had been avoiding the ranger for going on months now, while Daiyu plotted their revenge plot within a revenger’s tragedy. Not that Talia could really blame the ranger there – it was all a cycle, and one she hadn’t been able to see until the threat of her own death had ripped the veil from her eyes. Daiyu was trying to kill Talia because Talia tried to kill Daiyu because Daiyu killed Tabitha because Tabitha was trying to kill some hunters because the hunters had killed some werewolves who had killed some hunters who had killed more shifters who had no doubt killed humans. On and on, stretching back to before Talia and Daiyu had even had names, before any of their ancestors had names. 

Letting out all her air in a noisy huff, Talia dropped her head back and tipped her eyes to the sky. A patch of clear blue shone through the canopy of leaves. There was no reason to believe that her wolf would be immune to the fae magic twined through the grass. Otherwise, she would have shifted and ran off without a glance back. “I didn’t do any of this,” she insisted again. “I don’t even think this is about us. It’s just an awful fucking coincidence.” The grass just existed, as did Talia, and Daiyu. “Do you know anything about…fairy shit? Like how we can get the fuck out of here?” Grass, Talia knew, but she had a sneaking suspicion this grass wouldn’t behave like normal. That being said, there probably wasn’t any harm in just trying to burn it all.

—

“Probably because you’re fucking intolerable to hang out with,” she quipped back with instinctive ease. She knew it was an empty insult, considering all the friends Talia had that Daiyu had decisively cut off herself. She was popular, which usually meant nothing to her, but considering what people held Talia’s affections, it meant something now. Eve and Jade had even liked her – maybe they still do, something whispered in her head – and she valued their opinion more than she liked to admit. Still, it was crucial she cut at the other as much as she could with words, now that knives were no longer an option. 

Once done trying to walk out of the patch of grass, she was back at glowering at the source of her ire. The grass was a low ranking second on the list of things that bothered her. Third, maybe — her skin was itchy today, and she had forgotten to bring her cream. She resisted all urges to touch the healed burns, not wanting to reveal any of her weaknesses to Talia, even if these were so clearly on display. 

“Don’t trust you for one bit,” she said in a non-committal answer. She figured it was likely that Talia had not created this patch of grass in this exact spot, but that did not mean she didn’t expect any other tricks. This was her domain in a way, wasn’t it? Not in the day Daiyu’s house had been, certainly. The woods belonged to no one, but Talia was in them quite often, and just like Daiyu had a few places where she had traps put down and even some trail cameras hidden, she figured Talia had prepared the woods to be her ideal battle ground.

When Talia threw back her head, all Daiyu could think about how easy it would be to attack her now. Her neck was exposed and she was distracted. But she reigned the instinct, not wanting the grass to throw her on her ass or do something else to keep her from punching Talia in the throat the way she had, that unfortunate day at her house. She had to act the way she did when she was hunting something larger than her. She had to lay in wait and grasp the right opportunity when it presented itself to her, not go for the first shot. She stared at that neck, though, filled with the fantasy of finally quelling the threat on her life.

Talia spoke and her throat moved and Daiyu felt frustrated, because why was she trying to fix this by asking them things? They had no clue, and they sure as fuck didn’t feel like solving some fae bullshit today. Her calendar had been cleared for one thing only: eliminating Talia. 

They took the other in, trying to figure out how sincere this attempt was. They knew a thing or two about fae. She figured there was probably some kind of deal involved that had to be made, because all fae had an obsession with those. But she saw no fae around, only the stupidly green patch of grass underneath her feet. “Fae,” she corrected, if only to feel like she had some advantage. It wasn’t often that she could feel like the more knowledgeable one in the room. Or on the patch of grass.

She looked back at Talia, not sure if she should trust her with the way her mind was trying to find a solution. What was to happen, anyway, if the grass’ hold on them ended? Daiyu knew where her intentions laid. She wanted to finish this. The second this spell was gone, she would be going to the throat, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. “Fire probably works.” She carried a lighter with her, as she always did. Not because she smoked, but because it was part of the basic kit she always brought with her. She started scanning the bush around them, trying to find a source of this strange grass. “If you’re fucking out there, show yourself!” Then, back at Talia, “Don’t think we’re some fucking team now.”

—

Talia bit her tongue at Daiyu’s first insult. She wanted to point out that she wasn’t too intolerable for Wyatt or Daniel, two people who had once been listed among Daiyu’s own friends. But her heart wasn’t in the retort, not really. Not when she had seen how the loss of a friendship, even one she couldn’t quite understand, had taken a toll on the men. Wyatt was constantly tying himself up in knots to be uncontroversial and Daniel– Well. Talia had been worried about him, about his connections to the hunter world since he began dating her, for a while now. Plus, she didn’t need to instigate Daiyu any further. The hunter already wanted to kill her, she didn’t need to add personal insults to the mix.

“Fae,” she corrected herself, with no small amount of ire. Her dealings with fae had been few and far between, so she would have to take Daiyu’s word for whatever to call them, or what they might be dealing with. She shouldn’t have been surprised when the ranger yelled out for whatever fae might be causing this, but she did roll her eyes. That was Daiyu: brute strength over all else. “Wow, great job. I’m sure they’ll be happy to come out and help now.” Not that Talia even believed the fae who caused this was still around. Probably off…causing mayhem and chaos, if her past run-ins with fae were anything to go off of.

Before she could get an answer, Daiyu shot off a parting blow. Of course they weren’t a team. Nothing close to it. No one would ever mistake the two of them for working together. Except for the fact that they kind of were, in this instance. They were trapped together and would likely have to have some cooperation if they were going to figure out how to get free of the situation. Talia wasn’t going to insult Daiyu and make things worse, but there was no harm in a little teasing, was there? “I mean. We kind of are. You can’t kill me, so you’re stuck with me. We both want the same thing: to get free of this stupid grass. Sounds like a team to me.” 

Fun as it may be, taunting Daiyu wouldn’t free them. Fire, though, might be a solution. Talia had a lighter on her (she always did, speaking of chaotic fae, after she had been caught without one with the reanimated parts and Baz) and a ferro rod and knife that could do the trick. She slipped her Zippo out of a pocket and snapped the lid open, flame flickering. “I mean. Should we just try that?”

—

We both want the same thing, Talia said, pointing out that their desires were the same. Daiyu wanted to laugh deliriously at the fucking concept of it, of she and the werewolf who had tried to kill her in an act of vengeance wanting the same thing as her. She did not want to collaborate, did not want to clasp hands together momentarily to get out of a patch of grass. She felt herself grow obstinate, rioting against this notion that she and Talia had to work together. 

“We want the same thing,” she echoed, incredulous. “Guess that’s true in a way. You want me dead, I want you dead. That’s a very fucking mutual feeling, isn’t it?” People had told her that Talia no longer intended to kill her, but Daiyu had no reason to trust them or her would be killer. Of course Talia would tell people that were apparently mutual friends (or ex-friends, by now) that she no longer planned to kill her. That was a logical lie, one that was so transparent that Daiyu felt no hesitation when she saw it as one. 

She watched Talia go for her lighter, which made sense, as she had previously mentioned fire. Still, she saw a weapon where there was one, and though the werewolf hardly needed to hold a lighter to have threatening hands, she still felt her hackles raise. Talia asked them if they should try this, as if the two of them were experimenting with this fae grass rather than staring each other down, figuring out all the chinks in their armor. Daiyu knew that once this fae nonsense was over, the forced pacifism would end. She wanted it to, but she did not want Talia to make their countdown to their incoming fight seem like a collaboration. 

Daiyu moved forward, trying to make her intentions non-violent as she went to grab for Talia’s lighter. She was able to grasp the metal. “You don’t really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you, do you?”

—

“I don’t want you dead,” Talia protested. The claim tasted strange in her mouth. It wasn’t exactly true. If Daiyu were killed in some accident, or while hunting, or whatever, Talia wouldn’t have grieved. She may have even celebrated. But she no longer wanted, needed, to be the one to cause it. There was a strange emptiness that came with that acknowledgement. It had once been her sole purpose, the thing she wanted most in the world. Daiyu dead and her sister avenged. 

There was a strange grief in recognizing that she had moved on.

“I know you don’t believe me. Nothing I can do about that.” Just like there wasn’t much she could do about the fact that Daiyu wanted her dead. Talia didn’t even think she was wrong to want it. Didn’t think she was wrong not to believe that Talia didn’t want her dead, either. In the months since her attack on Daiyu, since living in fear of this very confrontation, Talia had come to a strange sense of clarity on the ranger’s stance in things. After all, it had been so very similar to her own – she could see that now, the similarities. 

Talia hadn’t expected the ranger to make a grab for her lighter and so the smooth metal slipped out of her hand. “Make what easy?” Talia burst out, swinging her arms wide. “Did I think you were going to let me try and get us out of this? Yeah! Do you want to be stuck in here with me? Because I’d really rather be on my way home.” Or anywhere in the world. Daiyu couldn’t attack her, couldn’t enact her revenge. Why wouldn’t she want to get them both free? “Do you have a better idea?”

—

The statement was in line with what Wyatt and Emilio had said and Daiyu guffawed. “You must think me a fucking fool. You came into my house with back up and it may not have gone as you wished, but that seems like something someone who wants me dead would do.” It would be too easy to accept this for truth. To accept that Talia may have seen an error in her murder attempt and have some larger picture to commit to in stead. It would be too easy for Talia to take advantage of that, too. And she would not be caught like that again, in her own home, a fool for thinking she could be safe even there.

She stared at the other, eyes trying to see the truth of the werewolf in front of her. A woman with a personal vendetta against her. Someone whose twin she had ripped from her in the endless cycle of bullshit the world was caught up in. “You could fucking begin to explain your weird change of heart,” she snapped, “Not that I’ll buy it for even a second. But don’t act like I’m the fucking fool for not believing your nonsense.” 

With the lighter in her hand, she felt a small victory. Petty theft was apparently still allowed, or maybe the grass just thought that an exchange of lighters was normal human behavior. “For you to prove me fucking right — I don’t wanna be anywhere with you unless it’s with your fucking corpse, so you must be a god damned idiot if you think that we’re going to work on this together. I see what you’re trying to do.” Talia was trying to make herself seem compliant, like someone Daiyu could work with to figure this out, and the second she had caught her off guard, she’d strike. She narrowed her eyes at her. “You’re not going home, don’t you get that? You’re not — this ends here.” There was a desperation clawing at her throat. Her knuckles tightened over the lighter. It had to end here.

—

“I did,” Talia agreed easily. “I did, then. At that time. But I–” Changed her mind? No, not exactly. Had a change of heart? Sort of, but still not accurate. For as long as she could remember, since it had happened, Talia struggled to talk about Tabitha’s death, especially where she herself was concerned. The one exception to that was what she wanted to do to the hunter who caused that death. She could talk at length about her hatred for them, for the plan, for how she was going to enact it, what she expected it to feel like. And then none of it turned out correct. On the other side of it, Talia found herself once again without words.

Faced with Daiyu, the hunter who had caused that death, Talia didn’t know how to tell her what had happened as she bled out on her cabin’s floor. “All I can say is that I don’t, now. Not anymore.” That wouldn’t be enough for the ranger, she knew. Roles reversed, it wouldn’t have been enough for her. “I don’t know how to explain it. One minute I wanted nothing more than to die in order to kill you and the next minute I was and it…wasn’t worth it.” May Tabitha forgive her. “I just didn’t want to. Don’t want to. Even more so, now.” Now that she and Daniel had made their amends and were working toward a future that seemed possible and sustainable. Now that whatever had gone wrong with the magic of the town was fixed and she could rely on her own wolf once again. Now that Wicked’s Rest was becoming a home and the people around her, shifters and others, were starting to feel like a family. Or even a pack.

“And I guess… I guess I realized that if I wanted to live so bad, you probably did too. You fought like you did, anyway. Tabitha didn’t care if she lived. I know, because I didn’t either, back then.” She swallowed, throat raw as she spoke about her sister to her murderer. “That doesn’t mean that she deserved to die. It just means, maybe, that instead of all of us killing each other, maybe we could–” Her breathing hitched as she tried to consider the alternative. Maybe they could all live. Her conversation with Eve rang her head, both sides considering the other the problem. Talia still thought she was in the right, that the hunters were the aggressor here, but did it matter? When they were all dying? Did it matter when Tabitha was over ten years’ dead now? All the hunters Talia had killed in the interim and it hadn’t mattered. 

She just wanted a life that mattered.

“All I’m trying to do is get out of here and get away from you, I promise.” Even if she knew Daiyu wasn’t a fae, a promise was still dangerous. Talia made it anyway. “It can end here and we can both still go home.” Her voice was calm, like when she would talk down the over-eager teenagers, frothing at their fangs for a fight. “We don’t have to be allies, but we don’t have to try and kill each other every chance we get either. Okay? Just. Burn this fucked up grass and you can go back the way you came and so will I.” —

It was not something she could accept. As Daiyu listened to the words coming from Talia’s mouth, she tried to read every single expression on her face. There were hunters out there that were capable of reading a person like a book, but Daiyu struggled with actual books, let alone people. Even so, she did not think that Talia was lying. It was a realization that hit her like a metal rod in the side, making her want to collapse as she struggled to breathe. The bullshit that left Talia’s mouth wasn’t bullshit. It seemed sincere. 

Maybe it didn’t just sound like bullshit because Talia’s reasoning wasn’t one of large sentiment, or a selfless change of heart. She wanted to live. Daiyu knew that instinct all too well. For years, she had roamed the earth imagining that she would welcome death at any given point, throwing herself into danger with little regard for her own life. There had been two clear moments in life where she had realized she wanted to live: when she had left Seattle, leaving behind the family structure that she was sure would kill her and when she lay on a parking lot ground with a fae crushing and burning her. 

This she understood. The desire to live, despite being raised for inevitable and violent death. Talia almost said something funny too, though. Maybe we could — as if there was any in stead. As if there was a world where coexistence in peace existed as long as werewolves ripped up humans and hunters could not move against their sharply honed instincts. There had been a time where Daiyu had tried to give up the hunt, shortly after that first realization that she did not want to die. The cycle of violence that dictated her family was just a small piece of the larger cycle. But it was not one she could disrupt, so to walk away from it was futile.

Talia wasn’t bullshitting, but that didn’t mean that Daiyu wanted to hear it. She did not want these conversations, especially not with the person who made her own home feel like a trap. Who looked like the grown up echo of someone she had murdered over a decade ago. She grit her teeth. 

“Fine.” She looked at Talia for a moment, straight in the eye. Her jaw ticked. There were things she could say. How she hadn’t wanted this fight in the first place. How she could not feel safe with her around, that her need to murder her was not born out of a place to settle a score or continue the cycle that Talia hinted at, but from a need to feel safe in her own home. How there was a part of her that knew that if she finished this, she would burn many bridges she did not want burned.

In stead, she twisted her grinding jaw into a grimace. “Got it. You realized you can’t win a fight against me, even with back up, and changed your mind. Cowardice is a kind of fucking wisdom, hm?” 

Daiyu didn’t waste any more words, digging into her pocket for a spare receipt and her own lighter. Hers was plastic, broken easily above the receipt. Lighter fluid rained on it and she flicked Talia’s lighter near it, the smell thick in her nostrils. Fire was caught easily, but she spent no time thinking about the metaphors of it, backing away from the flames that formed and spread. She got up to her full, unimpressive height and stared at Talia. “Fine. We split after this.” Her hands itched. But she tried to ignore it, looking down at the flames in stead.

—

Taila gave a wide sprawling shrug at Daiyu’s retort. It wasn’t the truth but she didn’t care to correct the ranger on it. Let her believe that it had just been cowardice and the fear of losing a fight. Tabitha would have said the same thing. The thought comes without Talia realizing it and it stops her in her tracks, so that she can’t even breath for a few seconds. Tabitha would have said the same thing about her as Daiyu. More than anything in the world, Tabitha had hated hunters. She had a vitriolic desire to kill them that Talia never had, not before her twin’s death. And here were words she would have said, out of the mouth of a hunter.

Did Daiyu hate werewolves that much? Would she have cared if she knew she sounded the same as one of them? Maybe not. Either way, it wouldn’t mean anything to her coming from Talia, so she keeps it to herself. Folds it away into some corner of herself labeled Tabitha that she’ll pull out later with Daniel to examine.

If she gets a later with Daniel.

That seemed possible, finally, as Daiyu produced a piece of scrap as kindling and doused it in fuel. The scent stung her nose and made her eyes water but she didn’t look away. There was no telling what Daiyu might do once the fae grass had been eliminated. She had come here to kill Talia, after all. Had sought her out and laid in waiting. Who was to say she wouldn’t charge at her once she had the chance? Talia would just have to be faster, that was all there was to it. As the flames grew, she could feel the heat licking closer, the smoke crowding her lungs. Distantly, at the very back of her mind, she thought that she would have to report this fire – even as it didn’t seem to spread beyond the bounds of the strange grass.

Through it all, through the heat and the smoke and the flames, Talia stared at Daiyu. The hunter didn’t look up from the blaze but that was fine. She wasn’t hoping for some stony-eyed stand-off. Maybe, maybe, some deeper understanding, some insight she could glean from the other killer standing hardly a few meters away from her. None came. All she could learn about Daiyu, all she could feel toward her, had already come for Talia. Whatever next steps there were, they would have to come from herself.

Speaking of next steps. The fire snuffed itself out miraculously, leaving a large, uneven blotch on in the clearing where the fae grass had once been. Uncertain, Talia raised a foot to step onto the regular grass and found she could do so easily. For one final second, she looked to Daiyu. Before either of them could blink though, she took off. She turned and fled, running as fast as her human legs could take her and then she shifted to cover the rest of the distance as her wolf. She didn’t stop until she was safe inside her cabin, curled up in the bed that smelled like her, and Daniel, and home.

When the voice at the back of her head called her a coward, it wasn’t just her sister, anymore. Daiyu’s had joined in.

—

Talia said nothing and for that, Daiyu had to give her a point in her favor. Fire was an often wielded weapon for its effectiveness, but her least favorite. The heat made her skin itch, made a newfound instinct command her to run before she ended up how she had two years ago. With her skin replaced, her entire body having to adjust to the new bumps and the tightness of the scarring. She could not give that to Talia, though, that weakness. She could not show the tick in her jaw, the way her insides were recoiling.

She felt the werewolf’s eyes on her but refused to look. She gave her attention to the flames in stead. There were two things here that triggered different instincts — fight or flight going head to head and neither heeded. Talia she wanted to fight, grind into the very ground they stood on, even if she had agreed to go her separate way once the fae bullshit was over. The instinct remained, fingers itching with the desire to kill the other or be killed. The futility weighed on her now too, though, but inaction had never called to Daiyu and it didn’t know. Maybe later, under the night sky when it was just her and her dog (and her squonk), she would accept her decision to let her would be killer go. But believing that there was some kind of truce between them now was something she was not ready to do.

The other instinct was to run. From the flames that nipped at her boots, warming up the leather. It spread around the circle, devouring the cursed grass with it. She hoped it worked. The exposure to the warmth was making her want to tremor and tremble, take herself away to the cool air untainted by one of nature’s elements. 

She stared at the flames and resisted both. She found no strength in resistance. Going against her nature had never felt like a victory. Her fingers flexed, her jaw ticked, and her feet felt hot in her boots.

And then, the fire snuffed out so suddenly that it could only be some fae bullshit. Daiyu looked up, watching Talia retreat into the green grass. Their gazes met, and before a move could be made or a word could be said, she was gone. Daiyu remained, moving her own feet into the green grass and its cold soil beneath. She could follow, she knew. She wasn’t honorable enough to let Talia go the way she had agreed. A promise to a werewolf meant nothing, especially not to one that had come into her house.

But she did not follow. Her gun was somewhere in the brush. Talia could shift into her wolf form and cut her to death with claws and teeth, even if she did not want to. Something weighed on her, and it wasn’t just the memory of lying on the parking lot floor as she burned to death. It was the thought I never fucking wanted this anyway, hammering in her head like an echo of Talia’s words.