Chapter 131: Complications and Conversations
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The VIP box was already crowded when I hauled Colleen Wing through the entrance.
Illyana looked up from her throne, eyebrows raised. Luna and Amadeus were mid-conversation about some energy reading nonsense, and Lin Lie stood near the window with his arms crossed. Kwannon hadn't moved from her post behind the throne, but I felt her gaze tracking us.
"You brought back a souvenir," Illyana observed dryly.
"She's not a souvenir." I nudged my chin at a seat, and the nervous Colleen took it. "She's here by choice. I gave her the option to leave in the tunnel."
Colleen looked like she wanted to argue that point but kept her mouth shut. Smart girl.
Illyana's ice-blue eyes studied Colleen with the intensity of a surgeon examining a tumor. "So… what's up? If she's not the fruit of your conquest, you want me to babysit your new pet?"
"No. I want you to check her for... demonic shit. The Hand deals with resurrection magic, right? Could be something nasty hiding in there."
"Right, she's with the Hand." That got Illyana's attention. She stood and approached Colleen, who tensed and stood back up. The Demon Queen walked a slow circle around her, fingers trailing through the air like she was feeling invisible threads.
"Interesting," Illyana murmured. "There is something. Pretty small. A seed, barely germinated."
"What does that mean?" Colleen asked, voice tight.
"It means your masters planted something in you. Insurance, probably. A way to track you, or worse." Illyana snapped her fingers.
The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot. Colleen gasped, doubling over as black smoke poured from her mouth. It lasted maybe three seconds before dissipating into nothing, leaving her panting and pale.
"Better?" Illyana asked, already walking back to her throne.
Colleen straightened slowly, one hand on her chest. "I... yes. I didn't even know it was there."
"Of course you didn't. That's the point." Illyana gestured lazily at an empty couch. "Sit back down. You look like you're about to fall over."
Luna bounced over before Colleen could process what just happened. "Hi! I'm Luna! You were amazing down there! The way you moved was so graceful, it was almost like a dance. Do you do stage combat? I bet you'd be great at stage combat."
Colleen blinked at the sudden avalanche of enthusiasm. "Erm... thank you?"
"Luna, don't be so excited," I said. "She just got de-cursed. Give her a minute."
"Oh, right, sorry." Luna didn't look sorry at all. She plopped down next to Colleen anyway. "But seriously, that was so cool. I'm not a fighter myself, for the most part, I'm just here to support my friends, but watching you two was like... art!"
Amadeus wandered over, phone out and scanning. "I must comment that your chi circulation patterns are fascinating. The Dragon's Breath school uses a modified meridian flow, I'm assuming? I've read about it but never seen it in practice..."
He kept talking, prompting Lin Lie to clear his throat. "Forgive my companion. He gets easily excited." He did a martial bow to Colleen. "Your technique was excellent. The Dragon's Breath style is rarely seen outside certain circles. Your master trained you well."
Colleen's expression flickered. "Thank you."
I watched her take in the room after that, and I wondered how she felt. A literal demon queen was lounging on a throne of bones. A genius who probably had an IQ higher than most people's credit scores, accompanied by a world-famous K-pop idol who could freeze things with a touch and Lin Lie, who moved like water and hit like a truck. At last, her eyes landed on Kwannon who stood silently in the background.
Oh, and me too. She stared at me with familiarity and she looked overwhelmed. Uncomfortable, even. Can't say I blamed her.
Charmcaster sat in the corner, munching on a bag of chips she'd somehow found, watching everything with a dry expression. Colleen glanced at her, tilted her head in confusion, then shrugged when Charmcaster didn't even look up.
Huh. She's in a mood.
Kwannon moved from her post for the first time since we'd arrived, approaching Colleen with measured steps. "May I share some words?"
Colleen nodded hesitantly.
"Your stance during the fight," Kwannon said, her voice soft but carrying an edge. "Some of your deflection techniques reminded me of the Hand. And you also had a seed from them… Were you working for them?"
Colleen went very still. "I... yes. I was trained by them."
"Were you aware of their true nature?"
"Aren't you being too hostile?" I asked. "She surely wasn't, given she didn't know she had a demon seed in her. You gotta relax."
Kwannon shot me a look and then studied her for a long moment. "The hardest lesson in martial arts isn't learning to strike, indeed. It's learning when a master is using you versus teaching you. I hope you realize you've been used, a lot of people don't and choose to go back to look for answers." She stepped back.
Colleen nodded slowly.
The arena announcer's voice boomed through the viewing screens, calling the next preliminary match. I glanced at the bracket display floating nearby and realized my name wasn't coming up anytime soon.
"Looks like I'm benched for a few days," I muttered.
"Good," Illyana said without looking at me. "You were getting cocky."
"I won."
"Sure."
"What does that even mean?" I was about to argue when Charmcaster stood up, brushing chip crumbs off her pants.
"I need to pee," she said and walked out without another word. I stared at her back, waiting exactly thirty seconds before following.
****
I followed her down the hall and into the women's washroom. The place smelled like expensive soap and whatever lingering residue Chi left when too close to running water. It was pleasant and clean.
Charmcaster turned hearing my footsteps, blocking the door like she owned the hinges. "Excuse you, this is the ladies' room, you pervert."
"Relax. I'm not here to touch up your lipstick." I leaned against the tile near the sink, the ceramic cool through my shirt. "You basically dragged me here. Want to talk?"
"Did I? And no, I want to yell more like," she corrected me and stepped closer, arms folded, chin tilted up in that way she did when she was preparing for an argument she had already decided she would win. "I'm just noticing stuff. You're collecting women again. It's pathetic. Why do you need so much female validation?"
"Whoa, where did you learn those big words?"
"First Jessica, then Madelyne, and Psylocke too. Now the monk girl? I came here to catch a spirit, not host an intervention for your wounded strays."
"Since when are I and Psylocke together? And Colleen isn't a stray." I crossed my arms back. "She's not my type, too bland."
"Mmh?" Her gaze sharpened. "Interesting. Because you carried her like you were auditioning for a rescue romance cover. Very heroic. Lots of spotlight."
She turned, having decided to end the conversation. I caught her waist and pulled her close before she could pivot away. She stiffened for half a second but then her hands settled against my chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm I couldn't decipher.
"What's up with you, Hope?" I said, breathing down her nose. "Jealous?"
"Don't flatter yourself." Her tone didn't match her posture. She stayed close. Too close for the denial to carry any weight. "You're just making things complicated. I can't remember how I fell for you… Ugh."
"It's always complicated," I said quietly. I brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. The static wasn't magic, just magical air conditioning fighting humidity. "You know where you stand. The others are allies. You're… you."
"Yeah? Liar." Her voice dipped. Not angry. Something else, something unguarded which she immediately regretted letting slip. "You say that to everyone, don't you? Whatever keeps the peace in your little circus."
"Not to everyone. Only when it's true."
She exhaled, a soft sound more tired than irritated. She rested her forehead against my chest for a brief moment, as if annoyed with herself for even doing that.
"You exhaust me, Ben Tennyson," she said and I laughed a little. It wasn't as if I didn't understand her.
"And yet you dragged me into a bathroom."
A lesser man would question why she was getting jealous when she knew what she signed up for. But the truth was, it didn't matter she signed up for this knowing what type of person I was, it still hurt her when it happened to her. Everyone wanted to feel great and important, and that feeling was robbed when she saw me bring in other girls.
She looked up, eyes half-lidded. "Don't push your luck. I'm still furious about the arena since you don't listen. You never listen."
"Show me how furious."
She did. There was no warning. Her mouth crashed into mine, not in any graceful way, just raw need and annoyance and everything else tangled together. I pulled her closer, lifting her slightly, her robes bunching around my hands.
"Still mad?" I asked against her mouth.
"Shut up." She bit my lip hard enough that I tasted copper. Her hand slipped under my shirt, nails scratching down my ribs like she wanted to leave proof she'd been here. "You infuriating idiot."
I pushed her back onto the sink counter. The porcelain creaked under the impact with her arm going around my neck, wrapping a leg around my waist, grinding down with a sound she tried to hold back and failed.
"Ben…" Her voice caught somewhere between a threat and a plea.
"Yeah?"
I kissed along her neck, the spot where her pulse kicked hard under her skin. She let out a whimper and clutched my shoulders, unsteady, like she couldn't decide whether to pull me closer or hex me into dust.
"Don't stop," she whispered.
I didn't plan to.
Her hands were frantic, tugging at my shirt, then her own. The fabric slid against the wet tile. I traced up her side, fingers brushing the edge of her bra. She arched without thinking, without calculation.
"Hope," I breathed.
"Less talking." She dragged my face back to hers.
The room was too small for this, for the sound we made. A cramped square of tile and bad lighting and a dripping faucet behind us. There was also a paper towel dispenser that rattled every time her body hit the wall. But she didn't care. Nor did I. Her legs locked around me and the rest of the world blurred into a distant hum.
"You're mine," she whispered, breath hot against my ear. "Right now, you're mine."
"Yeah, I'm yours." For now.
She pushed me back against the opposite wall, straddling my thigh, moving with a rhythm that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with urgency. My name spilled from her lips in a way that sounded like she wasn't used to saying it like that.
When it finally broke, whatever tension she'd been holding tight in her spine, she clung to me like she thought she might fall if she let go.
A bit later, the room settled into a thick quiet. Her makeup had been smudged into something less "glamour spell" and more like a bad crime scene's survivor. Her hair was wrecked beyond magic's first try at fixing it.
"We should stop," she said. Her voice was rough around the edges. She stayed exactly where she was.
"Probably."
Neither of us moved.
She laughed once under her breath, the sound small but real. "You're a bit too good at consoling a wounded girl, aren't you?"
"You don't mind."
"Unfortunately." She kissed me again, quick but lingering. "Go. Before I do something reckless."
I squeezed her ass.
"Nah."
We didn't leave until the next hour.
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