Rhian

Being with Strauss felt a lot like being in solitaire, which felt a lot like being home. I was glad to have come clean, and to no one's surprise probably, the man was a goddess-be-damned class act. Even though we didn't yet have much of a plan to keep the three of us safe, you know what I like to say about plans. So, we'd figure it out. We always figured it out.

Anyhow. When we were done napping and rubbing up on each other again, we followed our noses back to the common room where the Creepy Lass was watching the Squeaky Lass eat from a massive plate of roast meat and potatoes.

When she spotted us, Adeline paused with a mouthful and wiggled her eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. Strauss sort-of-smirked. And then we each had a sit on the opposite blue and gold couch.

Perched cross-legged in the matching chair, Ever lifted a lazy hand. "Hey."

"What's all this—some kind of apology?" I asked.

"I guess," Ever replied. "More importantly, Abby Blaze was hungry."

"All right," I said. "You know that's not actually her name, right?"

"And my name isn't actually Creepy Lass. What's your point."

The spooky little pain in the arse had been giving me a taste of my own piss since I met her. I didn't hate it.

I rubbed my cheek, eying the plate of meat and potatoes. I hadn't eaten since the soup, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd had anything to eat afore that.

(It was Ivana's leftovers on the night of the fire.)

"We have questions for you," Strauss said.

Ever locked those massive silver eyes on to Strauss. "Okay."

"Sinclair told me about your conversation at the Silver Spoon, but there's something yet unclear to me: why, really, did you go to such great lengths to, quote-unquote, keep us safe? And if you wanted our help to find Sebastian, you could have simply asked. Why the dramatics? With respect, I don't buy the thespian's flair act."

"Sebastian does believe in doing everything the correct way. With flair. You really are in serious danger. And I'm a fan of Abby's and she's a fan of yours. But I also wanted to herd as many of you as I could into one place. Preferably into a place you where couldn't hurt me. Also, turning you in to the community was always a possibility. I was keeping my options open."

And there it bloody was. I'd wring her scrawny neck—again—if it'd actually kill her.

To my right, Strauss radiated heat like the mid-morning sun.

"Simmer down, Broody Lad," Ever said. "You have no idea what it's like out there. With the others. I've said it before, but Lidia Roska was a celebrity. So, when I heard the news that she was gone—well, you're not the first Partisans who've tried taking her out. It'd never gone to plan, obviously. But I heard you lot were different, and I saw a viable opportunity to switch sides."

Strauss shifted in his seat. "And yet you were considering turning us in?"

"Aye, of course. All I knew was that you lot were clever. Tight-knit and not easily rattled. And that you were responsible for dusting at least a dozen of our kind. You might've rejected me. It's not about morals. It's about survival."

"I understand," Adeline chimed between dainty bites of roast. "You've now decided you'd prefer to survive with us, yes?"

"You lot seem all right."

"Why wouldn't you have sought kinship from those like Alexander?" Strauss asked.

"Obviously I tried."

"And why didn't that work out for you, Everleigh?"

"You'd have to ask Alexander." Ever shrugged, pausing for a deep, irritated sigh. "Look, if I'd have known you were friends with Sebastian, this all might have gone a lot differently. I'm expecting a stern talking to when he gets back."

It was quiet for a minute, then the Creepy Lass hopped to her feet, smoothed out her dress, and snatched up a basket from beside. She plopped it down on the table in front of me and Strauss.

"I didn't know what you both liked to eat, so."

Look, I was still angry with her, but I was about three times more hungry. I popped open the basket and peered inside. It was filled with half-wrapped sandwiches and a load of buttery-looking pastries. Some of the sandwiches had no meat, so I passed one over to Strauss.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Right," I said. "Nice of you, lass. Unless this is all just to watch us eat, and in which case, still weird. But whatever. I'm bloody famished."

I plucked a chicken sandwich from the basket and ripped a chunk off with my teeth.

"Thank you, Everleigh." Strauss had a not-so-discreet sniff and a more careful bite.

An itty-bitty smile came and went on the Creepy Lass's face before she shrugged.

The Squeaky Lass squeaked.

"So, what's your story, then?" I asked.

And that's when Everleigh Gloom gave us the rundown on how she became Evergloom and all about her relationship with Sebastian. Hells, I still keep wanting to call him Vinny. But never mind. By the time this is all over, we'll all have at least two or three names to our names. She told us about how being at Palisade had been the best days of her life, that for once she felt like she belonged. And then they told her she didn't.

The bottom line is: my instincts were still on point. The Creepy Lass might have been a bit of a mess, but in the end, she was lonely weirdo just trying not to die.

"We only know Mister Vonsinfonie as Vincent Delestade," Adeline said. She'd finished eating by now, and she slid her leftovers my way. Don't mind if I bloody do.

I ate a forkful of mashed potatoes. Ever stared.

"Well, Sebastian's story is Sebastian's story," she went on to say, picking up where Adeline started. "I don't know much. It's not that I didn't ask, but he was guarded, and we were busy. I know he swore never to return to Amalia, but I don't know why. I assumed it was to stay as far away from the rest of our kind as possible."

"That suggests that you and he were the only Anima in Delphia," Strauss added. "So it's true, the problem is contained to Amalia?"

Ever shrugged. "As far as I know. I was the first and only person he turned since leaving. He said they always came back to life wrong. But he had this theory that certain combinations of traits in people might make their Anima less likely to come back sideways."

I snorted. "You're telling us he was happy with how you came back?"

"Ouch," Ever said. "You wound me, Angry Lass. But yeah, he was. I'm not perfect, but I didn't show any violent compulsive patterns. And if you want any more information about Sebastian, you'll have to wait for Sebastian. Nobody likes a gossip."

It was quiet while we finished our dinners, or breakfasts, or whatever bloody time it was. I checked my watch-slash-compass. Just past midnight. I wondered where she got the food.

"According to my contacts, there were six of you," Ever said. "The Shaggy One, the Angry One, the Broody One, the Stick-up-her-Arse One, Abby Blaze, and a warrior, aye?"

"The one with the stick up her arse is dead," I said.

Poor Commander, Sir, Michael, Sir. Didn't even get a stupid nickname. Collectively, we told Ever about what happened to That Varis, and about what she'd done to Michael.

"And you brought him to Leberecht?"

Hells. That was the first time I'd heard the lass use any inflection.

"Uh, aye?"

Ever giggle-snorted. "That wasn't very smart."

Strauss turned his head in my direction. Adeline tilted hers.

"What?" I kicked my feet up on the table now I was finished eating. "I had to make a snap decision. Figured he'd want to be home with his family."

"Well, you should go get him," Ever said. "Or what's left of him."

"What do you mean by that?" Strauss reached for my hand.

I took it, obviously.

"There are stories," Ever continued. "The Artist, the Writer, and the Tinkerer. The trio of Anima who the legends say can re-write history."

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

"Well, I don't exactly know," The Creepy Lass admitted. "But it's not spoken about like it's a good thing."

Adeline, who'd been laying back against her couch looking mighty satisfied on a full stomach, perked up. "Does this mean we get to go to Leberecht?"

I looked to Strauss. He turned his head toward me, and we squeezed each other's hands.

We were four for five as far as getting the crew back together.

It was about bloody time we fixed that.

Maybe.

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