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This section contains moderately mature content.

Before they fully realized what they were doing, Webb leaned in, tilting their head slightly to the side, lips parted. They saw Lore’s dark lashes flutter slightly with surprise, but they responded in kind, their own mouth opening on a soft oh.

“I—” Webb stammered, inches from Lore’s mouth, so close that they could feel the smoke drifting off of Lore, caressing Webb’s lips. “Oh—fuck. You were so… you were asking me for permission so nicely, and I just—may I. Kiss you? I’d like to kiss you. I’d like… I want you to do whatever it is you need to do. I trust you. Can I—”

Lore laughed softly, leaning in to close the slight distance between them.

Kissing Lore was different from anything Webb had ever experienced, yet in some ways deeply familiar. Lore’s lips were soft and pliant, and when Webb immediately deepened the kiss with an impulsive, relieved eagerness, they found that Lore’s mouth was surprisingly hot and wet, their tongue meeting Webb’s with startled shyness but no less eagerness.

Then Webb inhaled, catching a breath after the first desperate press of lips, and felt themself breathe Lore in, swallow them, and they nearly lost their mind at the devastating intimacy of the sensation. Smoke and shadow rolled over their tongue, filling their nose and mouth until all they could taste and feel and smell was Lore, like old books and incongruously fragrant bubble bath and sweet cakes and none of those things at all—

They were close and everywhere and everything all at once, and Webb, who had been keeping people at arm’s length for so long they no longer remember what it felt like to be properly embraced, fell into it like a person desperate to drown.

Letting out a husky moan they hardly recognized as their own voice, Webb gathered Lore tightly into their arms and hauled them helplessly closer. They ran their fingers through Lore’s silky hair, feeling it effortlessly unravel like spun silk pouring over their palms. Lore’s body in their arms had weight and heat and pressure, but in a way that didn’t seem to stop at the gap between them. There was no gap between them anymore, no chill, and no emptiness—just the feeling of Lore enveloping Webb entirely.

It was intoxicating—and terrifying. Webb drew in a sharp breath, almost a whimper, closing their eyes and tilting their head back. They still felt Lore in their mouth, shadow coiling out and pouring out of their mouth like smoke, oozing down their jaw as they gasped for breath and drew Lore further in.

Are you alright? The voice reached Webb’s ears, but they were very sure they weren’t hearing it out loud. It reverberated up through them, gentle and so concerned, and fuck, what was Webb supposed to do with that?

“I’m fine,” Webb croaked out, finding their voice rough and hoarse and breathless, probably because there was somebody in their throat, pouring down it like water. They didn’t know if they even needed to speak out loud or not, or if Lore could just feel the response, taste it, understand it. They wondered if Lore could sense the way that Webb’s heart was hammering, or feel the heat already building to an ache between their legs.

Should I stop? Lore didn’t seem like they wanted to stop, but they did sound (feel?) relieved at Webb’s answer, stroking Webb’s hair reassuringly. At the same time, Webb felt hands running up their arms—then, more emboldened, over their chest, down their thighs. Hands might be a strong word for it, Webb thought wildly as they let out another honestly embarrassing noise—it was a thousand touches, tendrils and pressure, and oh, oh wow—

“S-stop, stop stop, oh fuck we have to stop—” Webb burst out with a delirious laugh, steeling themself for the dizzying, sucking sensation of regret that came a moment later as Lore, of course, withdrew immediately. Webb kept their eyes closed until they no longer felt Lore clinging to their skin, though they still felt the ghost of it, an echo that wasn’t likely to soon fade.

“… Webb,” Lore said, aloud again this time, in their soft and tentative tone, touching a hand—a hand again—to Webb’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, was that…”

Webb opened their eyes and was startled to find them stinging slightly, their lashes damp. They cleared their throat, scrubbing their sleeve against their face, and shook their head stubbornly. “That was fine. That was… uh. That was… a lot. But I liked it,” they added hastily, trying to chase away that worried look on Lore’s face before it had a chance to settle in. “I liked it maybe a little too much and we have, like, zero time, exactly negative time to, you know, explore any of that! In any way whatsoever.”

“Oh. That’s right,” Lore said, a little flustered. “I… forgot.”

“You forgot the fact that we’re in Veracity Yun’s secret bedroom in a vampire den of villainy and there’s a pack of Inquisitors hunting me down and you were tasting my brain so you could go pretend to be me so we can escape?” Webb paused. “Yeah, actually me too, the kissing was really good.”

Lore’s expression shifted through several different emotions before landing on helpless, fond laughter. They leaned in and gave Webb one more kiss, dry and lingering and gentle this time. “Let’s get going,” they said. “We can… continue this later.”

There was a note of promise in that tone that sent Webb’s heart racing, and they let out an aborted little noise, turning quickly to fumble for the door. “I. Yes. Sure. Oh, wait, fuck, weren’t you going to—” they began, turning back around again, then froze.

An eerie, perfect, and entirely unnerving identical copy of themself gazed back at them.

“I’m ready,” Lore said in Webb’s voice, making every hair on the back of Webb’s neck stand up. They pulled out a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on, then reached out and unhooked Webb’s from their collar, sliding them gently back onto Webb’s nose while Webb stood there, shocked and numb.

“Oh,” Webb said weakly. “That’s great.”

They had a very strange sensation in their chest. On the one hand, shy, sweet Lore was far and beyond the closest thing to a real friend that Webb had, with a very palpable and enticing promise to be more. The kiss had been disorientingly, exceptionally good, and had instantly unlocked fantasies and fetishes that Webb didn’t even know they had, or could have any reasonable expectation of getting to actually experience.

But Lore was also shadow and enigma, the monster’s monster, alien and powerful and uncanny and unknown, and the dissonance was strangely chilling.

“Webb…?”

Lore’s brows were creasing, their expression of concern somewhat jarring on Webb’s face, so Webb hastily reached out to squeeze Lore’s hand. Webb’s hand. Hand in apparently loveable hand.

“It’s fine,” they said hastily. “Let’s go back out before Pax starts a riot. I’m not altogether convinced that there won’t have been bloodshed. Ariadne might have eaten someone.”

She hadn’t. The atmosphere in the room was awkward and expectant, and Ariadne and Faraday looked up with palpable relief—then mild alarm—as Webb and their double walked into the room.

“Oh wow—” Ariadne gasped.

“Don’t get too excited,” Lore said immediately in an uncanny impression of Webb’s tone. “I don’t think Lore’s interested in fulfilling anyone’s lewd fantasies.”

Webb’s jaw dropped a little. “Fuck, you’re a better me than I am.”

Lore laughed. Ariadne was looking back and forth like it was a tennis match. Faraday looked like he had a headache.

Pax also seemed to be strangely intrigued, his eyes sharp and bright, but his tail was still buzzing like an agitated snake’s. “Great,” he exclaimed. “Perfect, you nailed it. Now, are we ready to get you the hell out of here?” He glanced back to where Veracity had been exchanging words with two of her attendants, and was making her way back over to the group.

“We’ll take it from here with the… fake,” Veracity said, her gaze moving between the two of them, seemingly nonplussed. “Pax, I’ll entrust the others to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Pax said easily. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“What about the rest of it?” Webb asked, shifting a little closer to Lore, anxious again and already feeling Lore’s impending absence strongly. “What were you going to tell us?”

“Oh, yes,” Veracity said with an air of casual nonchalance. “I’d almost forgotten. But I suppose it’s relevant.” Her gaze travelled to Ariadne. “My sources suggest that the original Grimm, this one’s sire, is no longer the Grimm that we’re currently dealing with. The one that’s in power right now, and has been for at least five or six years—ever since this political maneuvering started—is either some kind of usurper, or his successor.”

Silence fell in the room. Webb saw the shock they felt reflected on everyone else’s face—even Pax’s. Ariadne looked the most shocked of all, uncomprehending and almost faint.

“That—but. What? No… how can that…?” Ariadne stammered.

Veracity shrugged. “I thought you’d be pleased,” she said. “Trying to go up against one’s own sire would be madness. You’d be his puppet again in seconds. Surely you knew that.”

“I… was going to figure something out,” Ariadne said faintly, shaking her head to clear it. “But… what? How? Why?”

“That is what you’re going to need to find out,” Veracity told her with an edge of impatience. “I need to know who this upstart is, how he managed what he’s done, and where Grimm has gotten off to. If he still lives.”

Veracity’s specific personal interest and request suddenly made much more sense to Webb. They were willing to believe and accept that she had been simply concerned about a rise in power and aggression from a nearby vampire lord. But knowing that he’d somehow pulled the reins of power away from an existing lord…

That was a big and real and present threat.

In some way, Webb felt strangely reassured. They now knew that there was something that Veracity actively feared—something that, if they played their cards right, they could use as actual valuable leverage to trade to her later.

On the other hand, the level of bullshit they were having to deal with was starting to become sincerely unreal.

“Well,” Webb declared, leaning an arm on Lore’s shoulder. “I suppose that might as well fucking happen. We good to go, Pax? Ariadne, you good?”

“I’ve been ready to go for so long, you have no idea, I’m dying, I hate you,” Pax said brightly, steepling his fingers together.

“I’m… ready,” Ariadne agreed. She was clutching Faraday’s hand tightly, but her expression grew more serious after a moment, and she released him to haul on her helmet.

Webb turned to Lore, unsure of what to say, or do, or how to say goodbye, but Lore just gave Webb’s hand a firm squeeze, their expression calm, stepping away to join Veracity.

“Stay safe,” Lore instructed in a no-nonsense tone, so unlike their usual quiet lilt. “I’ll catch up with you before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I already miss you,” Webb shot back, instantly embarrassed by having said that, but feeling somewhat vindicated when Lore got flustered as well, hands fluttering.

Webb turned to Pax to avoid having to confront that feeling any further. “Where are we going?”

Pax raised his eyebrow, but turned, beckoning with one elegant hand, fingers curling. “This way, my contraband cupcakes. I hope you’re ready for a ride.” A look of concentration crossed his face as he sauntered over to the far wall, tracing a wide circle with the tip of one nail in one smooth, easy arc.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a rush of sound like a thousand whispers building up into a scream, the area inside the circle turned hazy, uneasy, licked with flame and shadow.

Pax dropped into a deep bow, sweeping an arm out. “After you,” he said with a wide, wicked smile.

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“Absolutely not,” Webb said immediately. “Under no circumstances. No.”

Lore’s brows creased; they flinched back, looking visibly hurt. “I—I won’t look like you for anything except this, I promise. I understand it’s—strange…”

Shit. Webb reached out and seized Lore’s face in their hands, the presence of an intimidating vampire lord looming over them be damned. “No, you ridiculous creature, I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about something happening to you.”

Lore’s expression still looked troubled, but softened somewhat. They lifted one hand and placed it over Webb’s, their touch cool and strangely yielding. “Oh,” they murmured. “No, that’s… I promise I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t equally sure I could get away again.”

“Shadowfolk do have… particularly unnatural abilities,” Veracity said, watching this exchange dispassionately. “Their suggestion does solve the problem quite efficiently.”

“I don’t—” Webb choked on their outburst, clawing back their temper again, reminding themself that snapping at the giant tetchy vampire lady who they were trying to woo for information was probably not going to improve the situation any. They drew in a deep breath, then exhaled, focusing on Lore. “… maybe. Are you sure it’s safe, and you can get away with it? Like, 100%, we won’t have to pull off a stressful rescue mission later level of confident? What happens if we lose track of you? What if they just stab you immediately?”

They’d seized Lore’s shoulders by this point and were shaking them gently. Little bits of inky blackness drifted away from Lore’s hair, like bubbles.

“Webb…” Faraday stepped in a little closer, but didn’t try to reach out, possibly sensing the real and present risk that Webb might chomp his hand off. “I could—go with them, if that would help—”

“That doesn’t help! Then I’ll have two of you to chase after!”

“We could track them—” Faraday protested helplessly.

“It will be fine,” Lore said, low and breathless and steady, leaning in to bonk their forehead gently against Webb’s. “I can’t… tell you everything I’m capable of, but I can promise you. I wouldn’t do that to you. Make you worry. Leave you alone.”

Webb squeezed their eyes shut tightly, trying to will themself to calm down. Why were they getting so worked up, anyway? They liked Lore, obviously, but surely they could trust them to manage themself. They’d seen Lore morph through walls and doors and vanish into shadows. If they said it was alright…

“… fine,” they muttered reluctantly, glancing over at Veracity. “If—if her lordship here thinks that’ll suit her purposes, and if the rest of us can get out of here while there’s a distraction, and you’ll be fine, and we get something actually useful in terms of going after Grimm, which is what we came for—”

“Oh, I have something I think you’ll find interesting,” Veracity said with one of her cool smiles, drawing everyone’s attention back to her. “At a price, of course. But one I’m sure you’ll find fair.”

Webb wasn’t as sure as Veracity sounded, but they took a step back away from Lore, looking over at her warily. “What do you have in mind?”

Veracity inclined her head. “I want access to Grimm’s spy within the Drawing Dead, first of all. Which it seems like your little drama here may help provide. Aside from that… I want more information about Grimm, and what he’s planning. And I’m not just talking about sniffing around in Hallow Point—I’ve already uncovered those stones, I can assure you. Someone needs to go up north. Right to his doorstep. You were already planning on it. I won’t provide you with additional support right now, not with so little to go off, but… if you return with something interesting…”

Ariadne made a little noise in the back of her throat. “So what you’re saying is, we should be going out there without the expectation that we’re going to be doing anything other than, what? Spying? Observing?”

“I can see the logic in that,” Webb said slowly. They didn’t really know what they were getting into, and Veracity was cautious—unlikely to make a big move without feeling very sure of her strategy. “We scope things out, and then work together to make a move when we have all the pieces.”

Veracity tsked softly. “I’m not promising further action,” she murmured. “I’m simply saying that I will be willing to consider more… material assistance, if and when you have something that compels me to do so.”

Ariadne looked unhappy about the idea, impatient and frustrated and scared, but Faraday was nodding slowly, and Pax was staring at Webb with a fixed intensity, as though willing them to understand this is about as good as it gets.

“Fine,” Webb said, gritting his teeth. Then, at Veracity’s raised eyebrows, they added more politely: “Yes. That sound reasonable. You help us get out of here safely, we help give you a decoy and keep your public face on while helping you sniff out some vermin in your backyard. You’ll tell us what you know right now about Grimm, and we’ll head up north and…” And what? Pretend to be selling Ghoul Guide cookies? Mug and mesmer a couple of après ski vampires? “… and see what else we can uncover. If and when we have more to go off, we’ll get in touch, and negotiate further from there.”

“Just so.” Veracity smiled, fangs dimpling her full lower lip. She extended a hand to Webb.

Webb glanced back at the others. Ariadne’s lips were pressed tightly together, but at Webb’s look, she let out a sigh and nodded reluctantly.

“… it’s reasonable,” Faraday agreed. Lore nodded as well, hugging their own elbows.

Webb had brokered plenty of deals with powerful creatures in the past, but this one felt particularly heart-pounding as they reached out and shook Veracity’s hand. There was so much in the air; so much they were unsure of. So much to lose.

They’d never intended to find themselves in this position again—rushing headlong into danger with so much potentially at stake. Not after last time. And yet, here they were.

Veracity’s grip was cool and firm and final.

Pax clapped his hands together, making Webb startle slightly at the abrupt sound as they drew their hand back hastily. “I’m so glad we got that worked out!” he said brightly, a little on the edge of manic. “And may I remind my good companions here that I am not sure how long until the Inquisitors start making even more of a ruckus trying to get in?”

Webb turned to Lore. “What exactly do you need in order to… do your thing?”

Lore looked slightly furtive, their lashes dipping as they glanced over at Veracity and Pax. “I…” they trailed off, then stepped a little closer to Webb. “Nothing special. Just—a moment with you. Alone. Before I go. Please?”

Veracity’s expression seemed heavily disinclined to agree to that, but shifted to an annoyed sort of thoughtfulness after a moment, pensive. “Very well,” she said, gesturing to the far back of the room where there was a door into an adjacent room. “But do be quick about it.”

“Like, very quick, extremely quick,” Pax added, tapping his foot and glancing out the window. “If you’re not back in five minutes I’m going to start screaming.”

Webb grabbed Lore’s wrist and tugged, spitefully walking across the room at a leisurely pace. They could hear Pax behind them making a noise a little like a sotto voce shrieking teakettle.

The room beyond the door was a dimly-lit private chamber with plush furnishings, heavy carpet, and a fully luxurious bed. Webb stopped just inside the door, closing it behind them. The click of the latch seemed exceedingly loud in the silence.

“Well?” they prompted, leaning against the door and turning to look at Lore uneasily, finding that they were having trouble meeting their eyes. “Is this—are you wanting to say a dramatic farewell? Do you wear me like a skinsuit? What?”

As soon as the words were out of their mouth, Webb flinched. They were frightened and anxious, but there was no need to take it out on Lore, who looked so nakedly miserable at the comments that they visibly started to come apart at the seams, bits of shadow drifting every which way

“No, I—” Lore stammered. “I just need—I’m sorry, Webb, I didn’t want…”

Webb swallowed heavily, then reached out with both arms to try to haul Lore close, dragging them into a tight hug. Or trying to. They managed to pull most of them in, but some bits seemed more corporal than others. It was like trying to hug something that was half Jell-O, half wood smoke, with an edge of squirming cat.

“Oh, for the love of all that’s horny, pull yourself together!” Webb exhaled in a rush, torn between laughing and crying. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m just—scared. I feel like I’ve just—” Fuck, hell, damn. “Feel like I’ve just found something, someone I want to keep around, and now I might be losing you already? I mean, it’s fucking typical, but it’s not fair…”

Lore stopped chaotically disintegrating all over Ariadne’s sweater, coagulating again into an fretful person shape with their lovely, anxious face looking so sad and so near. “Things are going to be alright,” they promised, earnest and soft. “I’ll catch up with you again before you know it. I’ll be able to find you. Don’t worry.”

“You’d better,” Webb said. They tried to make it sound threatening, but it ended up sounding a little desperate instead.

Lore’s lips curved into a faint smile, their brow creasing. “And think of It this way,” they murmured. “Maybe I’ll be able to learn something more from the Inquisitors before I get away. I’m sure that could be useful…”

Webb gently took Lore by the shoulders and shook them again. “Only if it doesn’t put you in more danger,” they insisted. “Don’t—don’t you dare risk anything trying to be useful.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” Lore gasped, wobbly. “I won’t, alright?”

Webb fell still, just looking at them, touching a hand lightly to Lore’s strangely silky hair. “Good,” they said, low-voiced. “… now. What is that you need to do to do your—thing? I assume you didn’t just drag me in here for, uh, whatever this has been.”

Lore shook their head, looking uncertain. “No… mm. Webb, you have to understand, the Shadowfolk are very private. Very protective over our abilities and secrets. What I’ve already shared is almost too much, especially in front of someone like Veracity, and Pax, but…” They shook their head as if to clear it. “But I wanted to. I needed to. I’m alright with that. But… the real thing is…” They reached up to gently pull Webb’s glasses off, hanging them from the collar of Webb’s sweater. “I need your permission for the next part.”

Webb licked their lips nervously, forcing themself not to look away, gaze darting around Lore’s face. “Okay,” they said. “I mean… I won’t tell anybody. What do you need to do?”

Lore met Webb’s gaze. “I can… become anybody that I’ve experienced,” they said slowly. “If I choose to, I can… feel some of the things that you feel. Taste your memories. Not all of them,” they added hastily, as Webb blanched. “And I don’t have to! I don’t need to go that deep at all. Really, I just need to be close. To… understand you in a way that’s unique to me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so afraid of the mortifying ordeal of being known,” Webb stammered. “That’s like sixth base. We are playing nine-dimensional baseball, here—”

Some part of Webb just seized up at the very thought, shaky and afraid and hollering no, no, no directly into the tantrum hole. That was the part that made their hands feel clammy, their heart pound, their thoughts spin in dizzy circles. They didn’t have to give this to Lore. They didn’t have to let Lore go ahead with this. They didn’t have any better ideas, but there was always the option to run.

Some other, much more alien and alarming part of them took control. They reached up and slid their shaking hands lightly into Lore’s long hair, feeling it cascade and flow like water through their fingers.

“I’m so sick of running,” they said.

Lore’s brow creased in confusion before it smoothed out into a small smile. They touched one hand to Webb’s cheek.

“You don’t have to run,” Lore said quietly. “You can choose. What… what do you want to do?”

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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Webb was deeply envious of how nonchalant and unsurprised Veracity and Pax managed to keep their expressions. At most, the demon’s eyebrows quirked a little, and he let out a low whistle, tapping his foot. Veracity just sighed, rubbing her fingers against her temple.

“How inconvenient,” she sighed. “Either you were trailed, or there really is a rat among us.”

“Come again??” Ariadne demanded, high-pitched. She had started to rise to her feet, expression alarmed, only to have Faraday firmly holding her back.

“A rat?” Faraday murmured, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back and forth between Webb and Veracity.

Webb, for their part, felt a little as though someone had drained all their blood and replaced it with bees. They felt the hair at the back of their neck shifting, icy cold, with Lore’s agitation.

“That will be all for now,” Veracity was saying, rising up and nodding to the vampire guard at the door. “Make it known that they are not permitted in here, of course. If they have requests, they can make them, and I will hear them on my time.”

“… do you think you can keep them out?” Webb asked uneasily as the guard gave a curt nod and slipped back into the other room, closing the door firmly.

Veracity waved a hand, just a minute flick of her fingers, setting down her glass and adjusting her hair, smoothing it back. “What a question, child. Not even the Inquisitors would dare force their way into my private territory and risk the resulting implications. Not for the likes of you, anyhow.”

“Still,” Pax mused thoughtfully. “The fact that they arrived so quickly, and are even willing to make a stand like that… that’s very strange…”

“Listen, can we please—” Webb’s voice rose a little, strained, before they quickly clamped down on their swell of panicked temper. That seemed like a good way to make this particular bad situation even worse. “Your… lordship.” Gross. “It’s possible we were followed, but not super probable, given that we’d been at a secure location for hours after losing them in the first place.”

“And I set up a cloaking spell on us as we travelled here,” Faraday added. Webb shot him a surprised look, but he was looking at Veracity, his expression grimly serious. “I can assure you, it’s highly unlikely.”

“You said—there could be a rat,” Ariadne ventured. “Did you already know about something…?”

Veracity held up a hand to forestall further questions. “I’ve suspected for some time that someone—or several someones—at the Drawing Dead is in Grimm’s employ. If what you’re saying is true, then clearly someone saw you come in, identified you as people of interest to the Inquisitors, and notified them.”

“And they’d only recognize you as people of interest if they were aware of the Inquisitors being sent after you in the first place,” Pax added thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed. “Even though news of the chase had gotten around, nobody I spoke to knew who they were after.”

“That said,” Veracity murmured, with a slight nod to Pax, “I am very curious about why there’s been quite this level of… enthusiasm.”

“What do you mean?” Webb asked warily.

Pax leaned forward slightly, eyes bright. “She means you’re one skinny nerd who only might have been the cause of some disappearances that hardly anybody noticed for a long time,” he pointed out. “Sure, it’s not so strange that they would show up at your door and try to force you to confess, or if they just killed you, like, just in case, darling—they don’t much like loose ends. But to have a standoff here? We host dozens of high-profile criminals they’ve never had the guts to come near, not all at once. If they decided anybody was getting particularly out of line, they might try to take them out privately, but…”

Veracity moved a little closer to Webb, looming, leaning down to look at them with a thoughtful expression on her face. “So what is it about you?” she murmured. “What do they think you’ve done? How much are you worth? And who’s sent them?”

“What do you mean, who’s sent them?” Webb demanded breathlessly, rubbing their clammy palms on their legs. “Who… who sends them anywhere?”

“We don’t know!” Pax said cheerfully. “Nobody knows where they get their information, or who they work for. They just showed up one day after everyone was getting settled and started doing their thing, and they sort of stuck. And, even though nobody’s been able to completely eliminate them, they never push hard enough to really cause a big stir with those who have real power, so… it’s this careful equilibrium.”

“And they do dispose of garbage sometimes,” Veracity said. “So it hasn’t been a priority to try to pursue it. Though of course I have my theories. That said…” Her gaze travelled over the group. “I am not in a position where I’m willing to blatantly flaunt my power to deny them.”

“But—” Ariadne protested. Pax gave her a warning little shake of his head, and she fell silent, glancing helplessly over at Webb.

“…well, that does make sense,” Webb said slowly. “I mean. People saw us come in here. If you don’t hand us over, or if it looks like we escaped…”

“Not only would that potentially cause quite the scuffle with the Inquisitors—interesting, but possibly with much more casualties than is worthwhile—there are quite a few people, creatures, and otherwise here that might capitalize on the situation, either to make a strike against Veracity, or to try to get you in their hot little hands, my dear,” Pax said, cool and matter-of-fact.

“You can’t just—you can’t just give Webb up like that!” Ariadne burst out, her eyes a fiery red. She’d risen up again, her fists clenched. “I won’t let you!”

Next to Veracity she looked very, very small. A sharp chill seized at Webb’s chest. Before they knew it, they were rising to their feet, and saw that Faraday had done the same.

Veracity’s lips curved in a cold smile as she looked down at Ariadne, as immovable as granite. “I’m afraid you’ll find that I’ll do as I please,” she said, lifting a hand and reaching for her.

Webb felt their body move before their brain caught up, jerkily lunging forward between the two vampires. They heard a roaring sound in their ears, the rush of wind, and found themself staring up (up, up) at Veracity, who now had a look of mild surprise on her handsome face.

Webb was also objectively surprised by their own actions, and it took a moment for them to realize that what she seemed startled by was the solid shadow wrapped around her wrist, preventing it from going any further towards Webb.

“How interesting,” she said thoughtfully. “How very interesting.”

Webb could see Pax and Veracity’s two vampire guards moving to flank the group on either side, unthreatening for now, but very present. Webb wasn’t entirely sure what Pax would do if it came to a fight—though they suspected they had an idea—and they didn’t know what any of the others were capable of. They decided very adamantly that they weren’t interested in finding out.

“Listen,” Webb said quickly. “I deeply respect your ruthless self-interest in this situation. Really, I do. But I don’t think that just letting the Inquisitors at me is the best thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t like the idea very much, do you?”

Veracity’s hand was still pinned tightly in place by Lore, though you wouldn’t know that it wasn’t her idea, from her expression. “I’m not overly enamored of it,” she acknowledged. “You’re an interesting puzzle, and I don’t like having my hand forced.”

“Right, exactly,” Webb nodded. They reached back their free hand as they spoke, groping around for Ariadne’s hand. Trying to make sure she was there—trying to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything reckless. There was a pause—but then they felt her fingers curling against theirs in return.

Emboldened, they continued: “We both want a creative way out of this. One where you can save face and come out looking in control. I, you know, don’t want me and my friends to get kidnapped or murdered by a pack of sociopathic ghosts. And, we both want to fuck up Grimm and figure out what the hell is going on, because I have way more questions than answers, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to be sleeping at night until I get to the bottom of it. And I think you might know something, or have something—something, anything!—that can help us in that, but only if you let us go after him.”

Veracity’s dark gaze bore down on Webb, intimidating, alluring. But—Webb noticed, with a wild leap of hope in their chest—not aggressive. She was considering it.

“Perhaps,” she allowed, after a moment. “I would be open to a creative solution… if you have one.” She paused. “You do have a proposal for me, don’t you? A good one, I hope.”

Webb opened their mouth, then closed it again. “I—” They hadn’t quite gotten that far. They just knew that they had to do something, say something. And that there had to be a way out—and for them to get out of Veracity what they came for. “That is…”

The shadow around Veracity’s wrist suddenly shifted, twining, solidifying into the shape of a hand. Webb felt the chilling sensation of Lore unwinding themself, unfolding from within Webb’s shadow, straightening up to their full height in front of Webb.

Lore looked at Veracity, whose eyebrows were raised, but who seemed otherwise nonplussed, and gave her a polite nod. Then, they turned to look at Webb.

“I can go with the Inquisitors instead of you, Webb,” they said softly. “I… can take your shape. If you’ll allow me to. They won’t be able to tell the difference. It’ll look to everyone else like Veracity is handing you over, but as soon as I’m alone with them—I’ll be able to get away. And in the meantime, the rest of you can escape.” They hesitated, leaning in a little closer, their soft tone almost pleading.

“Please, Webb. Let me help.”

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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Break day! After today the next planned break will be Halloween, and I anticipate going to about mid-November to wrap where I think the story arc is going ♥

Here’s a Faraday picrew to keep you warm in the meantime xoxo

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[ Please read the kickoff post before commenting! ] 

Webb saw Ariadne immediately go on alert, her eyes bright, her posture tense. Faraday had the better poker face, but even so, he stood up a little straighter, his chin tilting up, his grip tightening on Ariadne’s arm.

Before the tense moment could linger too long, Pax immediately swept in between the two of them, casually looping his arms around their waists and trying to usher them towards the sitting area. “The boss does like to be direct,” he said cheerfully. “But I think everyone’s had quite the stressful evening, already. Ayesha, can you bring us some wine?” he called back to one of the vampires near the door.

Ayesha raised an eyebrow, glancing at Veracity, who simply inclined her head very slightly and took a seat in one of the armchairs with a smile that Webb wouldn’t call unfriendly, but was impressively devoid of any emotion at all. The other vampire seemed to take this as a “yes,” however, slipping back out into the main room.

Pax was glancing back at Webb, his bright blue eyes slightly narrowed. Try to let me guide you a little, here, he’d said.

Webb drew in a breath, shoved their hands in their pockets, and slumped down in one of the armchairs as well.

“Thanks for hearing us out,” Webb said. Negotiations, they reminded themself. You’re good at this shit, if you’re good at anything. “I mean, first of all, the Inquisitors seem like they’re a bit of a pain in the ass to deal with. I tried to see if they were even willing to talk about this and that was a big zero.”

“Did you,” Veracity said dryly. She swirled her glass, looking Webb over thoughtfully. They felt the uncomfortable pressure of her gaze and tried to keep their own eyes fixed somewhere near her ear—radiating weirdness and social awkwardness and wearing sunglasses inside did have its perks.

“I did,” Webb agreed noncommittally.

With the pressure off them, Ariadne and Faraday had also taken a seat, though they still looked quite nervous about it. Webb was filled suddenly with an unexpected, almost panicky swell of emotion. The two of them had shown up at Webb’s door and dragged them off on an unexpected romp across the city, sure, but they’d done so with good intentions—and probably kept Webb from an even worse fate. And in many ways, they were here, right now, in this room, because of Webb and the decisions they’d made.

Webb felt protective, and was not at all sure what to do about that. The feeling caught in their throat like fire, and they swallowed, rubbing their palms on their knees.

Pax, to his credit, also seemed to be picking up the general vibe, and perched lightly on the arm of a chair, tail swaying, tapping one golden toe as if in time to music only he could hear. “I’ve certainly heard that they aren’t the most compelling conversationalists.”

Webb shrugged. “Really not. Though, I am curious about, like, how eagerly pursued and how valuable are we in this situation. Even if the rumors were true—and they aren’t—they weren’t exactly maniac cultist level. If I wanted to be hunted down, I could have done something way more interesting.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re concerned about your professional integrity,” Pax quipped, though his tail had gone still. Webb could see that he was watching Veracity out of the corner of his eye, gauging her reaction, wary.

Veracity had raised her eyebrows, reclining back slightly in her chair, but Webb was fairly sure they saw her mouth twitch, just a little.

“We’re talking value, aren’t we?” Webb pointed out. “You seem like a person who just wants to get the best deal out of this situation, and I just don’t think the Inquisitors are gonna give much for me.”

“Perhaps not,” Veracity agreed smoothly. She hardly looked up as Ayesha returned, setting down a tray of wine glasses that absolutely nobody except Pax bothered to touch, though Webb noticed Ariadne sniff the air slightly, surreptitiously. “But then, you haven’t indicated that you’d be of any use to me at all.”

“I was just trying to get an understanding of the current going rate in the marketplace,” Webb said.

“We want to take down Grimm,” Ariadne said abruptly. “We thought… that might be relevant to you. Eliminating competition.

Veracity frowned at that. Webb could tell from Pax’s reaction as much as hers that that was not the right thing to say—the tip of the demon’s tail vibrated like a rattlesnake’s, silent but agitated.

“Competition isn’t exactly the right word,” Pax cut in smoothly.

“Nuisance,” Webb said immediately. “He’s a trashy would-be interloper with bad taste and delusions of grandeur, and he’s waving his dick too close to your nice neighbourhood, here. He’s been messing with me, and I have no idea why—but more to the point, we’re offering to be useful to you in that you don’t really have a lot to lose by letting us go loose to be feral in his general direction. We might disrupt him a little, at the bare minimum. Or, with your help, we might be able to do more.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Veracity said, but her tone was much lighter, that ominous expression gone from her face. “But… games of chance do have a way of surprising you, now and again.”

Pax drained his wine glass and picked up another. “You didn’t specify what exactly it is you’re planning to do,” he told Webb.

“I have no idea,” Webb admitted, betting on honesty for now, glancing back over at Veracity. “I had barely heard of the guy before tonight. All I know is that apparently he’s been pulling my strings. If we figure out who’s behind that, it might turn up an informant that’s on his side. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else in my network… but I’d more than happily turn them over to you.”

Veracity considered this, lashes heavy over her dark eyes. “You’re right that he’s a… minor irritant, at best,” she said slowly. “But I’m not in the habit of allowing pests to breed in my garden. So, perhaps, if you did manage something, I wouldn’t exactly feel remorseful about it. However, you haven’t quite made it clear what you’re hoping to get from me.”

Webb exchanged a glance with the others. This seemed to be going pretty well: even Pax seemed a bit more eager and bright-eyed, and Ariadne was sitting up a bit straighter. What did they hope to get out of her, though? Were they just hoping that maybe she’d heard something, or knew who might be involved in the plot that involved Webb? Or did that not really matter in the grand scheme of things and what they really needed was as much intel on Grimm.

In case they did… what? The thought caught Webb up short. They knew all along that Ariadne’s plan was to deal with Grimm, but what did that look like, exactly? What could the four of them—assuming Lore came along, which wasn’t necessarily to be taken for granted—do against an established vampire lord in his own home?

Lost in thought, Webb jolted in shock at the sudden fierce rapping at the door. Everyone’s heads turned that way as it opened and the door guard stepped urgently inside, closing the door firmly behind her and pressing a hand to her chest.

“Lord Veracity,” she said, obviously keyed up although she was keeping her cool, eyes bright but tone steady. “My apologies for the interruption, but we’ve just received word—it’s the Inquisitors. They seem to have the place surrounded, and they’re…” Her gaze fell on Webb. “They’re here for them.”

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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