The Fox and The Hunter

Viktorya didn’t know if Jon would come back, and she didn’t want to check.

His brother was planning something, and Viktorya was a tool in that plan. If Jon didn’t come back, then he’d be safe. She’d miss him, but he’d be safe.

Not that a man who could heal from anything needed to be safe, and what would happen to her father if she didn’t go through with it?

The ball was in Jon’s court now, and she had nothing to do except watch where he hit it.

She was patient.

If she stressed herself out anymore, she might end up seeing a vision whether she wanted to or not.

She flinched at the sound of a knock on her window. Old mandates took over as she opened it to the intruder. She’d seen him before, when she was checking to see what he stole from her apartment.

“Do you work for the Order or Chamberlain?” she asked.

“He wants to know if you liked your preview,” the intruder answered.

“What preview?”

“It only seems fair to want your father lucid when he meets your boyfriend.”

“How did you—”

“He has his ways. If you want your father to stay this way, maybe even leave that money-draining facility, you’ll do as you’re told.”

“This is extortion.”

“This is a contract.”

“My contract was bought out,” she spat.

“The one owned by the council, yes, but sometimes people buy part of a contract without claiming it for some time.”

How many did she have out there? She was supposed to be free.

“Shit.”

The messenger smiled like a creep.

“What does Chamberlain even want?” Viktorya asked.

Messenger creep turned his head like he was staring at a problem.

“Very sweet of you to be so honest, now you may never see him again, not a smart plan.”

“Are you going to give me an answer?”

“I don’t think you’re ready yet. You used to be far more decisive. You’ll never succeed without a sharper edge.”

“I’ll show you…” she muttered as she brought her fingers closer to her summoning rune.

A knock on the door, and a swing from her sword as Jon ran in.

Viktorya woke up in her boarding room, the sheets next to her still a little warm.

“I thought I was the one who leaves,” she commented to the emptiness.

As if on cue, Jon proved her right, entering the room with two mugs, one coffee, one tea.

“Promise me you aren’t handing me the tea.”

“I don’t understand how you stand the stuff.” He handed her the coffee.

“It got me through a Masters and a PhD. What has tea gotten you?”

“Not an addiction, that’s for sure.”

She kept a level glare as the coffee helped wake her up.

“You need to be out in less than an hour,” he noted.

“Stalker.”

“I checked from Mandie’s schedule. We share a room.”

“Is your roommate going to be mad I stole you away?”

“If anything, it would be the other way around.” He kissed her on the forehead, his face disappointed as he pulled away.

“What?” She knew what he was going to say, not from visions but because he always fucking said it.

“Why not?” he asked.

That always managed to get her out of the bed. It was easier to ignore him if she had to get ready. He made no comment as she got dressed and pulled her hair back.

“Did you have enough time to think of a new answer?” he finally asked.

She gave a deep sigh. She didn’t know, but she did know. What happened? What was going to happen?

She beelined for her desk and started drawing, still muddled by the vision.

She’d have a PhD by then. Why would she get one? Did library work stop interesting her?

She and Jon were clearly past the honeymoon phase by then, if they’d had the same fight so many times. Not that she was surprised they’d fight: They’d already argued plenty, but most of that had been trivial.

She hadn’t tried to parse a vision like this since she was a kid. What was so difficult about arguing with her boyfriend who she frequently argued with that she had to analyze the whole thing back?

The fact they weren’t actually together in the vision, and she was sure it was her own fault.

“I feel like it has to be bad if I’m not getting a visceral reaction from the drawing,” Jon noted over her shoulder.

She flipped the paper over.

“Mind your own business.”

“I think if I’m in the drawing, it is my business.”

She flipped the paper back over. It looked like just another harmless drawing of Jon. She handed it to him.

“Then you can keep it for me, I have plenty.”

He took an admiring look at it.

“No name.”

“They don’t always have names. Most of the ones I have of you don’t.”

“Maybe I should look through all of them again to find the exceptions.”

It felt strange for him to just know about the drawings, or anything about her.

“What are you going to do now that I’ve lost all the mystery?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“There isn’t much more to learn about me, and the mystery that brought us together is pretty much done, so what’s left?”

“The mystery was not what drew me to you, and it certainly wasn’t what made me want to stay.”

“Then what makes you want to stay?”

He took a minute, looking her up and down a few times.

“You’re allowed to just say I look nice. I won’t be offended.”

He laughed.

“You’re beautiful, but that’s not the main thing. I see plenty of beautiful women at Gareth’s parties.”

“So by your standards, I’m ugly, and that’s what makes me so interesting.”

“There it is.”

She took a moment to let him sit with what he’d just agreed to.

“I mean your confidence,” he insisted, “I’ve never seen you scared for yourself, just other people. You don’t doubt yourself, especially in an argument. I guess it makes me feel safe, or at least like I can trust you.”

Viktorya was probably blushing as she thought through every time she’d blustered through her own nerves to later embarrassment.

“I get scared plenty. It’s just easier to check and know I’m going to be safe rather than other people. The rest is just putting on a good act.”

“Is it an act, or is it just practice?”

“If anything it’s a shitty instinct. If I’m doing something, I can’t stop it.”

“Well, your instinct has done a lot for me, so I’d appreciate you not insulting it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Turnabout is fair play: what do you like about me, aside from plastering my face on your walls throughout teenagerhood.”

“Cheekbones,” she answered immediately, “First thing I noticed.”

He looked a little disappointed, so she took a deep breath to try again.

“Your passion—not bedroom passion, though that’s nice. I mean you just care about whatever you do, even cleaning my sink and dishes. It can be overwhelming just to be near it, let alone the focus, but it feels… wonderful.”

“I just don’t like doing nothing.”

She pushed his hair back, getting a glance at the clock.…“I should get ready for work.”

He nodded.

“I’ll figure out something to do.”

Jon walked hand in hand with her to the library, silent but smiling. Viktorya still couldn’t shake off the vision, but extended her best smile. If Jon wasn’t fooled, he didn’t let on.

“I’ll grab coffee and meet up after you’re settled,” he said as he dropped her off at the door.

“You’re an angel.”

“Some people call me a god.”

He left before her giggle ended.

“Aren’t you two just adorable?”

And her good mode dropped. How did Jon miss him?

“He’s not infallible, especially when he’s distracted.”

She refused to say anything else to him, just opened the door and locked it behind her. She had time before they had to open, and Jon would be there by then. Chamberlain wouldn’t try shit while Jon was there.

“So your boyfriend’s back,” Evie practically sang as Viktorya came into the backroom.

“Not forever, but we’re taking advantage of our time together.”

“Can you define ‘taking advantage’?”

For once it was nice to indulge Evie.

“He’s staying at my place.”

“Your one-bed studio?”

Viktorya nodded.

“I take it neither of you are using the couch.”

“Nope.”

“Congratulations!”

She answered as many of Evie’s questions as she felt comfortable with as they handled all their prep before officially opening the library. Very few patrons shuffled in, but of course the man at the front as Viktorya took her desk was Chamberlain in the same disguise.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“My contact said you weren’t ready. I disagree.”

The sooner she did whatever he asked, the sooner she’d be free of all of this.

But whatever he wanted had to do with the Hunters, who trusted her more than a family member, a family member they didn’t seem to like, who was definitely untrustworthy, but still not an easy choice. If she didn’t do it, her father would get worse, that much was implicit.

Her father had made it clear he didn’t care about living much longer, but if he had full control of his mind…

Jon would live no matter what, but she couldn’t imagine him forgiving her, or even if he could, his sister would probably shoot her for whatever it was, and his sister was a damn good shot.

Her relationship and potentially her survival for her father’s return. Two men who couldn’t forgive her, or whatever lifetime she had left knowing she let her father die so she could play house. Ruin her relationship with Jon to save her father, or kill her father and probably ruin the relationship because of it.

The fact she had to make the choice was a betrayal of both of them.

“You wish you were more confused, don’t you?” Chamberlain asked, “But you know exactly what the best option is.”

She wanted to punch him. Where was Jon anyway? He’d probably be willing to risk being banned to attack his brother. Maybe if she just held him here.

“Convince me.”

He shook his head.

“I’ll come tonight, you’ll make your choice, and you’ll ruin your life.”

“Why?”

“Because lying bitches who steal from me always get their comeuppance,” He removed a glove, grabbing one of her hands before she could pull away, “But I do need this to work more than I need you to suffer.”

Before his words ended, her hand was out of his reach.

“Rot in hell,” she ordered, tone absent in the quiet of it.

“Not if you do your job correctly.”

She would do just that.

After a minute, Jon was back with her coffee. She beamed as she hid it behind the counter.

“You’re an angel.”

Jon shrugged.

“I’m not sure angels are all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Then you’re just very kind,” she corrected, “Thank you.”

“I guess I just care, or maybe it’s the cheekbones.”

She made an obvious expression of holding in laughter as she pondered him over.

That care would either make this the easiest job, or one of her hardest.

“Kiss for luck?” he asked.

Jonathan Hunter had been a large exception, but not today. She didn’t kiss the mark.

“Not while there’s an actual patron,” she gestured at the kid behind him.

He gave a nod and moved out of the way.

“Hello, how may I help you?”