“‘Can I get clothes together quickly’ he asks.” Merce muttered sarcastically, perking up. “I’ve been living on the road for almost fifty years, of course I can. I honestly don’t have much; what can fit in a carry on and a suitcase.” Walking towards the bathroom, she wasn’t looking forward to putting her dirty clothes back on, but nor was she walking back to the hostel in a robe. “Do you really think you can find them?” She called out, quickly putting her clothes back on. Once finished, she hung the robe and grabbed the key before she forgot.

Poking her head out of the bathroom, Merce flipped the key through her fingers. “Amphora also answered your question while we were changing. She says it was way before Sree, before she was stuck in the stone. So long ago she can’t remember. She’s made sure I’ve avoided them and kept a low profile since we’ve been together.”

After a second, Anthony looks at the lockbox, once he picks up the notepad and pencil and flicking to a new page. “I’ll need the flash drive for looking into Amphora while you are getting your things. And maybe a better idea of when it was. Otherwise needles and haystacks.”

Looking at the key, she scrunched her nose then carefully lay the key on the table in front of Anthony in a silent show of trust. “All I know is that it was in the 1800s in the Austrian Empire. Which is Ukraine, now.” She added with interest, more to herself than Anthony. “I know the husbands name was Kleon, and he was a duke, or baron, or marquess or something.”

Anthony wrote the potential research information down, and looked back at her seeing the key was in front of him almost. “Does she remember any surnames of locals at that time, even her former surname might help.”

The question was a good one, and Merce attempted to try and remember if Sree’s married name had ever been spoken in the memory dream. “Sree’s maiden name was Fürstin.” Amphora growled out, voice rumbling darkly. Then, without warning she reached out to snatch the paper and pen from Anthony to write something down. “But it is this that was her surname. It will be more important.” She then shoved the notepad back at Anthony with a snarl, keeping the pen in her fingers and pointing the sharp end in Anthony's direction threateningly. “I too wish to know if anything was written about me, what humans truly thought about what I’d done.” Merce’s eyes had taken on a golden glow as the dragon stared down Anthony, contemplating. She looked from the hunter to the key in front of him and a soft hiss whisted from between her teeth. As soon as the dragon appeared she was gone and Merce’s murky blue eyes returned.

After a second of thinking, and once he had the surnames written down, with mild shock at Amphora talking again, and even writing and threatening, Anthony realises something important. “One more question, before you both head out. You got a cellphone, in case you get worried about being followed, so you can get a call or message to me, where I can then assist you?”

“I really hate it when she does that. It’s disconcerting to say the least.” Rubbing her forehead, she realized Anthony had also asked about a cellphone before Amphora had taken the reins. “Oh, yeah I’ve got one.” Putting the pen down, she pulled out the prepaid cell phone she unlocked it and made a new contact for Anthony before holding the phone out so he could input his number.

Anthony quickly presses the keys for his number, then presses the call button, making his phone, which was still on the kitchen table, start a generic stupid ringtone, before stopping it just as quickly. “I will add your name to that in a minute, Merce. Thanks for that information Amphora, it helps. You never know how useful the smallest sliver of information can be.”

“She says she hopes so, because she’s getting tired of talking to you.” Merce told him, lips quirking upwards into a grin. “She’s kinda reminding me of a cranky old lady threatening to call the cops on the kids in her lawn.” Snickering to herself, she took her phone back. “So, after I go get my stuff, then what? We meet back here and hope you find something?”

Anthony nods quickly, and gets up, with a slight grin in response. “Y-Yeah, I get that vibe from Amphora, I wonder if she would be a crazy cat dragon-lady if we gave her half a chance.” Nodding slightly to the apartment door, he adds “And then maybe we can work out how to head to where the other Dragon was, and see if we can meet up with them.”

“She’d probably like the cats better than most humans. Heck, at this rate I think I’ve got to agree with her. Well,” she sighed and rolled her shoulders. “I’ll go pack my crap and meet you back here.” Heading towards the door, she pulled it open and peered both directions to make sure there was no one lurking. Stepping out, she paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “Hey Anthony, thanks for all of this.” Smiling at her new friend, she shut the door behind her and started out the apartment building.

----------------

Anthony’s perspective

Putting his eye to the peephole for a second, he watches Merce walk away almost nervously. After a second, he moves off the door and heads over to his phone, grabs it, and unlocks it, seeing the missed call, and from it, quickly creating a contact for Merce. He pockets his phone, grabs an OTG cable from a cabinet drawer, picks up his tablet, turns off the wifi on it,  and unlocks the lockbox, pulling the flash drive out and re-locking the lockbox, leaving the key in the lock.

“Now, lets see if I can help them get some closure.” he says to himself, connecting the OTG cable to the Micro USB slot on the tablet, and attaching the flash drive to that. In the next moment, the flash drive connects, and he starts sifting through the information given. It took him a few minutes, because the drive had a lot to look through before the start of searching.

“Former Austrian Empire... 1800s… We got 12 reports… Better than either huge numbers… Or no reports at all.”

He adds Amphoras married surname to that, and finds a single named report. He opens it, and reads what he finds, which has the Hunter’s surname redacted, or maybe aging had smudged the name at the time.

“Oh... Amphora. I am so sorry.”

After a moment, he locks the tablet, and puts it down for a second, picking up his phone, and opens the text app. He sends a quick message to Merce, before putting the phone down again.

Found something. Will show you when you get back.

Picking the tablet back up, and unlocking it, he saves the first search, then taking off the timeframe, and seeing the new result.

“76 reports. Starting with that one. Its... Amphora’s surname though. How would... Why would?..” he asks himself, as he opens the most recent report, from July last year. “SERIOUSLY?!” he yells quite loudly, as he reads about a Hunter attack on a Dragon in England from them, which had little to no smudging.

“I don’t think I am going to tell them about that... Unless they ask.” he mutters, deleting the latter search, and locking the tablet again, before heading to his bed and pulling a duffel bag out from under it.

“That is me ready to go now.” he chuckles, grabbing a thin sweater and pulling it on over his tshirt.

Hearing a knock on his door after a couple of minutes, he heads to the peephole, and sees the hair and face of Merce in it, and knowing it was her, he opens the door.

----------------

Merce’s perspective

Walking out of the building, Merce paused to looked towards the sky between the buildings and simply breathed. Her limbs felt shaky still, as if she’d just run a marathon - though she supposed she could consider the last hour one painful, mental marathon. “You little fool.” Amphora told her softly, and Merce couldn’t help but s*censored* at the affection in the dragon’s voice. Maybe, but we’ve got to start somewhere. She told the dragon as she started towards her hostel.

He seems genuinely upset by it all. Plus, with what we now know about his mother I think he’s going to be a great ally to have if anything is going to change. Amphora simply huffed and Merce concentrated on finding her way back. After one near wrong turn, she finally was able to find the right building and she took the stairs two at a time to reach the right  room. Unlocking the door, Merce peered around the sparse room and sat down on the bed after moving aside some papers from her research. “I hope you’re right, you know. I want you to be right.” Amphora whispered. “But I’ve seen too much, experienced too much, to let you go into this blindly and with such high hopes.”

Merce closed her eyes and nodded along with Amphora’s words. I suppose one of us needs to be the realist while one needs to be the optimist. We counterbalance one another. The dragon’s let out a pleased  hum and Merce instantly felt better to have the dragon, for the moment, on her side. Whether it would last remained to be seen. Her phone pinged and she took it out to read the text.

Found something. Will show you when you get back.

“Anthony found something?” She murmured, both interested and worried. How bad was it? “Somehow I doubt he’s going to be to happy with what he found.” Putting the phone back, Merce began packing what few clothing items she had back into the travellers suitcase before returning for her books and manila folders that held much of her research. Her current boss wasn’t going to be happy about her so suddenly ditching the project, but she’d just call him in the coming days and tell him something had come up with her family back in Barcelona.

After one last sweep of the room, because she always forgot something, Merce took a fortifying breath and shouldered her lighter pack and drug her wheeled suitcase behind her. Shutting the door, it felt like she was also shutting the door to a chapter of her life. Turning the room key in, she started for Anthony’s apartment for the second time that day. By passing the cafe, she grinned a bit and waved incase anyone she knew was looking.

Once at the apartment complex, Merce scanned the doors until she came across the right one and knocked on it.

-----------

Anthony opens the door, and ushers Merce in quickly, closing it behind her just as quickly. “Get everything for the trip?”

Merce nodded and placed her suitcase to the side so it wasn’t in the way. The bag she carefully placed on the table. “Yeah, basically everything I own.” She looked at the tablet curiously before asking the question burning in both her and Amphora’s minds. “You find anything?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the Hunter perspective on Amphora. Is… Is she white, with a mixture of light and dark blue?” he asks, walking over to the coffee table and picking up the tablet, careful not to disconnect the cable and flash drive. “Come here.”

Merce blinked in surprise and nodded slowly. “Yeah, she is. Golden eyed, too. Her wings are connected to her forearms, if that helps any.” She added wearily before stepping a bit closer. “Why? What does it say?”

Anthony unlocks the tablet, and pulls up the report that indirectly mentions Amphora. “Its better you... Read it.” he says, placing the tablet gently into Merce’s hands. “Amphora, please don’t break it.”

Looking at the tablet in her hands, Merce sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs and started reading. Almost instantly her fingers closed tightly around the machine, knuckles turning white as she attempted to keep from squeezing to hard. As her eyes traveled over the words she gritted her teeth harder and harder against the budding emotions. Once finished, she kept her gaze on the total number of deaths. “I...I knew there were a lot of people killed. I saw it through her memories. I heard them scream and smelt the fire. But,” stopping the took in a shaky breath “I didn’t realize there were so many. And so many of them were children.”

Placing the tablet on the table, she slid it towards Anthony as if it burned her. “Amphora’s not speaking, but I can feel her devastation. I don’t think she realized just how bad it had been. Until now.” Swallowing, Merce wrapped her arms around her chest as if trying to hold herself together. “I can tell you a part of it is wrong, though. About what happened to Sree.”

Anthony locks the tablet, and then puts an arm round Merce’s shoulder gently. “She surviv-” he says, sounding sad, but questioning.

““She killed herself.” Merce interrupted, voice void of emotion. “She went back when Amphora finally passed out from exhaustion, found the priests knife before making her way back to the river where everything started, and ended it all.” Merce ran her finger over her forearm, silently letting Anthony know how it happened. “She died hating Amphora, you know.” Lips quirking into a bitter grin, she laughed coldly. “I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen to me if I allowed something so horrific to happen to the innocent. Could I be as brave as Sree?”

“I barely know you, but I can tell you, you are different to Sree. Is Amphora who she was back then too?” he offers, hugging her a bit.

Leaning into the comforting warmth, Merce thought about his words for a moment before answering. “Just from what little I could gather about her, Sree was an adventurous, gentle woman. She loved her family above all else, but was also a philanthropist of her time. She just wanted to help people. Amphora was much like her, for most of their years together. Both quick to love, quick to trust; which was their downfall. I suppose.” Looking up at Anthony, she gently knocked her temple into his chin from where he was taller than her. “We’re alike, but also very different. You’re right. As for Amphora, Nerissa’s murder fundamentally changed her. She gained this blackness, this hatred in her I don’t think she’s ever shaken. It shows sometimes, though you’ve never experienced it yet.”

Lips quirking upwards, Merce tapped her fingers against the tabletop. “But she considered her fifty years before I touched the stone penance. She’s now more of a pacifist because she knows what she can do if provoked.”

tle="Redacted Hunters Report" target="_blank">Redacted Hunter Report

Despite the warm smiles and kind words shared, tension still filled the air as Vincent realized that their host seemed to know that they had noticed him staring. They were going to be living in this man’s cabin and seeing him regularly; this kind of awkwardness was just going to make everyone uneasy for the duration of the trip, the whole point of which had been to grant the dragons momentary peace of mind as they made themselves scarce while Hunters combed the city for them. But as the group was led inside and around the cabin, the tense atmosphere dispersed entirely.

The smell of tomato sauce and the sound of music playing quietly once Creus had turned it down a bit made the cabin feel more… home-like. The place was exactly as it had been pictured online. The main floor’s spacious open concept reminded him of his own home. All of the rooms upstairs were lovely, with quarters a little bit snug but not too small to still be comfortable.

I’m not picky about where I sleep-- how about you, Helios? Vincent mentally asked, staying quiet during their tour.

“ѕσ ℓσηg αѕ ιт ιѕ ¢σмƒσятαвℓє ƒσя уσυ, ι ∂σ ησт нανє α ρяєƒєяєη¢є,” the dragon replied.

I think I’ll go with one of the smaller rooms then-- the master bedroom is impressive, but it almost seems… a little too big for one person. At least for me, anyway.

“ѕσмєтнιηg тєℓℓѕ мє тнαт єηηιє αη∂ αѕтℓєу ωσυℓ∂ αρρяє¢ιαтє тнαт вє∂яσσм.”

Have you been listening to them? Vincent smirked, that’s rather sneaky. Like mental eavesdropping.

“ι αм ησт єανєѕ∂яσρριηg,” Helios said coolly, “ιт ωαѕ נυѕт α нυη¢н. тнαт вαℓ¢σηу ℓσσкѕ ℓιкє ιт gєтѕ gσσ∂ ѕυηℓιgнт, αη∂ єηηιє вяσυgнт... мαηу ρℓαηтѕ. ρєянαρѕ тσσ мαηу ƒσя тнє gяєєηнσυѕє.”

Ah, that’s right. Okay, so let’s offer them the room later when we’re deciding where to sleep, then.

Their conversation ended just in time for the appearance of a doorknob-stealing wolf. The sight was rather amusing, after the sulky canine had refused to follow the group with the cats inside, he had defaced the door seemingly in some attempt at a protest. Creus’ tone suggested that this wasn’t the first time Blitz had done this, nor would it be the last. The sun dragon couldn’t quite suppress a chuckle.

After their stop in the basement, in which Reito decided he was going to be sleeping rather excitedly, they were brought back up to the main floor and shown the sun room. It wasn’t particularly grand, but Vincent smiled as he could feel a prickle of excitement from his plant-loving friend at the sight of it.

“Thank you for the tour,” the blonde-haired man replied to their host as he got to work fixing the door, “the cabin is lovely.” Misty peered at the doorknob snatcher from beside Vincent, looking rather curious at the sight of an ailurophobic wolf. “Come on, Misty,” he chuckled, stretching out his arms, “let’s go get settled with the others.” The large feline then dropped into a crouch and wiggled her body in preparation before gracefully leaping into his arms and promptly rubbing her big fluffy face all over her human’s as he walked towards where the luggage had been placed before the tour.

At the mention of a gun, Vincent shot Reito a nervous look. A gun? In my car? He… knows that you need to have a licence for those here, doesn’t he? And that you can’t carry one concealed?

“тσ вє ƒαιя, уσυ ∂ι∂ вяιηg α ѕωσя∂,” Helios chimed in, “αη∂ ωє αяє ιη тнє мι∂∂ℓє σƒ ησωнєяє.”

I… suppose you’re right. I don’t have any intention to use the thing though.

“ρєянαρѕ нє ∂σєѕ ησт ιηтєη∂ тσ υѕє нιѕ gυη. ιт мαу ѕιмρℓу вє α ωαу тσ ƒєєℓ мσяє ѕє¢υяє.”

That would make sense. I definitely feel a bit safer knowing I have a way to defend against anyone who might attack us.

“Ah, you… brought a… gun. I did lock my car, but I can go retrieve it for you.” Setting Misty down on the nearest chair, Vincent exited the cabin and made his way over to the genesis, popping the trunk as he stepped up to the vehicle.

The gun was pretty easy to spot, though somehow tucked into the back right corner of the compartment. "Well, forgetting to close his bag all the way and losing a gun certainly is very… Reito," mumbled the sun dragon as he reached for the pistol with a cautious hand. "I hope he remembered the safety."

Once extracted, it took Vincent less than a second to notice that Reito had not, in fact, remembered the safety. "If something had bumped into the trigger, it could have fired in the car," he fretted, hurrying to find the safety and lock it before returning it to the moon dragon.

Crisis averted, (for now,) the blonde-haired man returned to the cabin after locking the trunk and handed the weapon back to its owner. "You ah… left the safety off. It's on now, though," he said awkwardly.

Misty had taken to curiously sniffing at Reito's new friend while her human briefly went outside. She could smell kittens on him, and her sensitive ears heard their tiny movements. The massive feline hopped down from the chair then, rubbing herself against the kitten-man's legs and purring loudly. Vincent smiled at the sight as he walked over to Ennie; she must have felt Tucker's anxiety as well as the kittens.

"Alright, how about we figure out where everyone's going to be sleeping?" he asked everyone at once, "I'm fine with one of the smaller rooms on the top floor, myself."

Zakhar ::

The plane ride into Canada had been easy going, if not downright boring. The only entertainment, at least for the first fifteen minutes or so had been the chubby cheeked little girl in the seat in front of him. She’d poked her head over and given him an innocent look that only a young child could pull off. Amused, he’d made a face back at her. The game continued on until her mother had told her to sit still and leave the man alone. He’d assured the mother the little girl wasn’t bothering him; that he had a couple of nieces and nephews back home he had been saddled with to babysit more than once. Not that Zakhar had ever minded. He loved kids and kids tended to love him back.

Letting his thoughts drift as the plane leveled out, Zakhar had leaned back against the uncomfortable seat to wait for the descent. The child had reminded him a lot of Nina, his brother Illarion’s only daughter. The little girl was nothing but spunk and energy and so much like her mother it was terrifying. How Illarion handled Sofiya on top of Nina was anyone guess. Zakhar figured it was his ridiculous patience - which was always important for a spymaster. Lips pursing, he turned towards the window and stared off into the blackness of the night far above the earth.

He was heading into Canada for a reason, he reminded himself. To meet with an old, retired contact of his fathers; who was apparently less ‘retired’ than everyone thought. Once a hunter, always a Hunter. He thought, leaning his head against the cool glass. Apparently the contact had heard a bit of chatter through his networks of other Hunters and his own birdies. It might have been nothing, but Andon was adamant that someone check it out. Zakhar had pulled the short straw. Mentally groaning at what he knew was going to be coming next, Zakhar shifted in the seat to get more comfortable and closed his eyes. There was a specific memory he often replayed when doing something for his family he wasn’t going to enjoy. It never failed to remind him why they did what they did, why their mission was important.

The commotion from the common area drew a thirteen year old Zakhar from his room, and on feet as light as a cat he’d approached in an attempt to spy. They never let the young ones be included in the family business, unless it was to train. His mother’s voice rang out, heavily accented words barking out orders that even Andon would be stupid not to obey. Though the patriarch of the family, even he feared his wifes wrath. Cautiously, Zakhar’s head popped around the back of the couch, where across from him Mikhail now sat, all but holding Luca up.

The twins looked nothing alike, except for the pinched look upon both of their aristocratic features. Mikhail’s was from worry. Luca because of the blood staining one side of his shirt and the couch below him. Zakhar knew better than to gasp, or to run to his brother to make sure he was okay. Luca was a pillar of strength, silent and deadly in a way Zakhar could never hope to be. To see him pale and injured had shaken the boy Zakhar had used to be. What could have done something like that to him? During training Luca was unbeatable, too fast to catch and too wily to ever anticipate - Andon never criticized him like he did Zakhar and his other brothers.

A rough hand suddenly grabbing him by the back of his neck had pulled Zakhar from his stupor, and he went limp. They all knew better than to fight their father. After having been all but dragged and dumped unceremoniously at his elder brother's feet, Zakhar looked up slowly towards Luca, whose black eyes kept him pinned him down. As usual they were devoid of anything, just endless pits of lifeless ink. Only the creases at the side of his eyes and mouth allowed any of them to know how much he was hurting. From his peripherals Zakhar could see Andon crouching beside him, knees popping loudly. Yet, even at thirteen Zakhar knew better than to look away from the current predator in the room.

“You know what did this?” Andon’s voice was eerily soft for a man whose anger haunted Zakhar’s dreams.

“Yes sir.” Zakhar was young, not stupid. “A dragon.” A hum in response, pleased.

“Do you see now why we do what we do? If a dragon could do this to Luca, think what it could do to the innocent.” Zakhar simply nodded, jaw tense as he attempted to keep the question swimming through his head from his features. Didn’t we attack it first? Something must have shown, however, because Andon reached forward and placed his hand on Zakhar’s shoulder. Only years of training kept him from flinching at the sudden touch. Instead of squeezing, his father used it as leverage to push himself back to standing. “Come.”

Giving Luca one last, worried look, which was ignored in favor of a question from Mikhail, Zakhar got to his own feet and followed Andon quickly. From a safe only Andon and Vera knew the code too, his father pulled out a large, leather bound journal. Idly flipping through it, the older man finally found what he was looking for and set it on the table. Honey brown eyes, odd for such a man, fixed on Zakhar stonily. “Read. This is why we do what we do.” He motioned with his head towards the journal, scowling. Fingers shaking, Zakhar pulled the book closer and started to read. To understand.

The ding of the fasten seat belt signal pulled Zakhar from his memories. In that journal he’d finally learned the why. In the following years he’d strove to be what his father wanted, what his family needed. He was charismatic and easy going, unlike most of his other brothers, and he was good at manipulating. From fifteen onwards he’d been trained as a grifter from his uncle, who’d gotten too old to keep doing the job. And he was good at it. He had four dragon kills associated with his name - even if he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger or plunge in the blade. He’d gotten the intel, gotten close to the dragon, which had allowed for another to make the kill.

Landing and the subsequent taxi ride to a local hotel were uneventful. Zakhar had sent off a quick text to Kazimir to let him know where he was, but got no response. Not that he expected one. The hotel was clean but cheap, a decent hideout until he could speak with the contact. From what he’d been told by Illarion, who knew the informant best, he’d give his elder brother a time and place for Zakhar to meet him at. Until then, there was nothing to do but sit back and wait.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning dawned with a kink in his neck and text message with a time and location. Though cheap, the hotel at least had a complimentary breakfast and within thirty minutes the hunter was waving down another taxi. Throughout the ride through the Canadian city Zakhar and the cabby, an immigrant from India, commiserated on being an outsider to the country and how their looks and accents affected others’ perceptions of them. Needless to say, the cabby earned a decent tip after dropping the hunter off outside of a large estate.

“Lucky son-of-a-gun.” Zakhar mused as he pressed the speaker button to be let in through the front gate. Winston Bianchi had been a wealthy real estate broker for the rich for much of his adult life, which earned him multiple points of contacts. By night, he’d been an informant for the hunters who used his wealth and influence to gather intel on possible leads. Now, at the ripe old age of 73 Winston worked in executive finance part-time, mostly as a mentor, and had a large network of birdies who fed him information. He was living a retired hunters dream.

The house was pristine and white enough to almost burn Zakhar’s eyes. Gaudy, just like the man. At two stories, it was in the Greek revival style and Zakhar wondered just how much money the man truly had- and if he was interested in adopting a son. But as he entered the house, he suddenly was reminded why none of them visited Winston unless absolutely necessary. Three small, white dogs rushed down the front staircase, each yapping its fool head off. Two instantly attempted to climb his legs, while the third thought it was a pitbull and went for his ankles with its teeth.

“Win-ston!” He called out, mocking the man’s name ala Oliver and Company. “Call your beasts off!” Not wanting to actually harm the little dogs, but offended by their presence none-the-less, Zakhar attempted to wade through the fur and drool.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Their not usually so badly behaved.” A feminine voice exclaimed, and an older woman rushed out to herd the mongrels. She was elegant and weirdly beautiful for being obviously in the sixties. “Ellie, Abi, Marge! Shoo, you little scoundrels.” Once free from the mob, Zakhar was instantly offered a hand to shake and a blinding smile. “You must be the friend Winston was telling me about! It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Alice.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Alice, I’m Dmitri.” Zakhar told her with a charming smile. Always best to be careful. A booming laugh pulled him away from Alice and he found himself wrapped up in deceptively strong arms for someone who looked like an over-fed Italian grandfather. “I need those ribs, Winston.” Zakhar complained, attempted to wriggle from the embrace.

“Yes yes, I know boy.” Winston mused, icy eyes twinkling. “Now come! We’ve much to discuss, you and I.” Turning, Winston started for the stairs. “Alice, my love, would you be so kind as to order some food for the three of us? We’ll be back down soon.” Flicking a hand, the two men started towards Winston’s study room, the older man talking a mile a minute the entire time. “Ah Alice, such a sweet young thing!”

“Tell me you didn’t marry her.” A wicked grin. “Jeesh, Winston! What happened to wife number three? You talk her to death too?” Winston ignored the snark and motioned for him to sit in one of the overtly plush armchairs.

“Now now, are you here to discuss my love life or the possible dragons not too far from Toronto?” Winston asked, pulling out a manila folder from a previously locked desk drawer. That bit of information peaked Zakhar’s curiosity, considering he was closer to Vancouver than Toronto. After the folder was on the desk in front of them, both men leaned in to examine newspaper clippings, various printed internet articles, and other papers covered in Winston’s tiny, chicken-scratch handwriting.

The two discussed the shooting and distinctive lack of victim, as well as the strange sighting of something large and winged flying above for a bit of time. Then there was the apartment fire not far away from the others that all but shouted ‘Hunters.’ Idiot Hunters, because that was sloppy work, but Hunters none-the-less. It was by no means anything concrete, but then again very few dragon leads actually were. At times it was like chasing their own tails, but for every ten that ended up being a bust it was always worth it to find that one right one.

For Zakhar the chase was thrilling, but it was knowing that after a kill there was one less dragon who had the ability to kill dozens or more innocent in a fit of rage that made it worth it. Cruel and a bit narrow-minded, maybe. He wasn’t under any illusion that what they did was right, but if it allowed for Nina and others to sleep a bit safer at night then he had no problem being the bad guy.

Merce’s perspective

The beginning of the conversation between Anthony and Catherine had Merce’s head flicking between the two of them like a ping pong ball. “I still don’t like this.” Amphora grumped, voice agitated. Merce could, in some ways, sympathize. It wasn’t so much she wanted to put the dragon on the spot, make her reveal herself to someone she didn’t want to, but she stood behind her earlier words. I know you don’t. And I really appreciate that you’re still willing, sorta. We need all the allies we can get, particularly of this thing ever blows up in our faces.

“Which it will. Undoubtedly. You’re lucky I actually like Catherine. Even if she’s got awful taste in men.” Merce’s lips twitched and she had the urge to hug the prickly dragon. This was all so far out of her comfort zone, yet Amphora was still willing. Still somehow trusting her human even after what had been done to her. Catherine’s sudden shout made Merce jump and flinch. Amphora laughed. 

“MyMomandMercearebothDragonsandIwaspartofasecretcultdedicatedtokillingthem!” It was only Merce’s advanced hearing that allowed her to understand what the hunter had actually said. Merce rolled her eyes hard enough to almost hurt. Hopeless.

“This is where we put our loyalty and faith in changing things?” 

“Talk a little faster there, Anthony...I don’t think she understood a word of that the first time.” Catherine was obviously skeptical and Merce scratched the back of her head with embarrassment, offering a small smile. “He’s serious. I’m a dragon. Er, well sorta. It’s more like I’m bonded to a dragon. She’s inside my head. He was, is, part of a cult called the Hunters who track down and kill my kind.” Of course Anthony attempted to defend himself, but was interrupted by his girlfriend. Merce blinked in surprise. 

“Prove what you are saying is true. Let me talk to this Dragon… Or produce something else to prove it.” Anthony turned to her as well. 

At this, Merce looks away and towards Catherine. “Wow, okay, so no pressure.” 

“I did not agree to this.” Amphora hissed out, and Merce could feel her tensing in her mind, as if preparing for a fight. “You wanted to tell her about me, fine. But I am not going to prance around like some show dog for the human to ogle.” Merce twitched and mentally groaned. Maybe she could force the dragon out? A reverse of what Amphora did to her? Face scrunching, the human shoved against the mountain that was her dragons conscious. But it was like running face first into a brick wall; hopeless. “You’re adorable.” Amphora laughed, shaking her off as if she was nothing but a pesky flea. 

Merce gave up and opened her eyes. “Performance anxiety? I...have no idea what she’s doing. Come on, Amphora! You’re making me look like an idiot!” 

“And that’s unusual, how?” 

Oh come on! She pleaded, ignoring the short conversation between Anthony and Catherine. We’re not going to convince her without you doing something! Make my eyes glow, talk, spit a little fire. I don’t care! The dragon simply huffed. “I swear she’s in here, she’s just being a little brat.”

Anthony’s words were startling to both human and dragon. “Stubborn. Mean. Crazy Old Cat Dragon-Lady.” Amphora snarled softly. “Sree would be ashamed.”

“That’s it, I’m going to kill him.” Merce inwardly yelped and attempted to calm the suddenly enraged dragon. “He dares bring up Sree! A Hunter! A descendant of the monster who killed her and our daughter!” There were a few more choice words, mostly curses.

He’s just being an idiot who's trying to impress his girlfriend! No need to kill anyone. Still the dragon seethed. Merce knew without a doubt that if Merce wasn’t friendly with Anthony Amphora would have made an appearance with bared teeth and fire. In that moment, Merce could see the vicious dragon whose grief and rage had killed over a hundred people. Please, calm down. 

Outwardly, Merce attempted to keep her face and words neutral. “I’m...not going to repeat what she just said.” After a moment of making faces again, in another attempt to coax Amphora out again, she says with a saddened tone “I don’t think she’s going to work with us. Sorry, Anthony.”

“Damned straight I’m not. Idiots.” The dragons snarking blocked out Catherine’s reply. Merce’s face scrunched at the dragons dismissal. 

“You know straining will only make it hurt more.”

With sweat on her brow from the exertion of fighting with an immovable force, Merce glares at Anthony and says to him almost deadpan “You’re a freakin’ comedian.” She then says quietly to herself “Come on, Amphora. You show up when I don’t want you too, why can’t you work with me for once!”

“Because you’re the imbecile who decided to team up with an insensitive jerk.” Again, Merce missed the commentary between the other two. 

“I think she’s just spiteing Anthony.”

“Ya think?”

Anthony’s sudden shout about the key again rose Merce’s hopes. “You wouldn’t.” Amphora hissed out. “That’s cruel even for you! Just to prove a point!” Merce flinched a bit, letting Amphora know she was hurt by her accustation. Not the knife! Remember, you spoke to him during the interview. She can hear your real voice come through. The dragon had the audacity to laugh. “Yes, because you humans can’t edit your technology to make it sound like somethings going on. You think she’s going to believe that?” 

Well, better than nothing. “Oh! Yeah, here.” Scrabbling through her pockets, Merce’s brow scrunched in confusion as he fingers hit nothing. “Err, I have no idea where the key is…” 

“You had it last. You didn’t eat it, right? I wouldn’t put it past Amphora to make you do that.” 

Turning a vicious glare on Anthony, Merce sneered. “I know I’m a heavier woman, but do I look like I would eat a key? Or let my bloody dragon make me eat one. I’m not crapping that thing out! Amphora knows it too..”

“Heh, never thought about that.” Behave! Traitor…

Anthony says quietly, mimicking the size of the key with his fingers. “It’s only small.”

Eye twitching, Merce also mimicked the key with her fingers, before shoving them downwards as if into something. “I will let Amphora shove it down your throat and see how you enjoy the next couple of days…”

“I will happily!” You’re way to pleased by this suggestion.  

Catherine’s sudden arm around her shoulders caused Merce to relax a bit, but Amphora flinched in surprise. “Don’t hurt him. You went in the bathroom like 15 minutes ago, you sure it didn’t fall out in there? Or this Amphora didn’t flush the key?”

“Would she?”

Would you? She asked wearily, trying to remember. But nothing came to mind. “How petty do you think I am?” It wasn’t an answer, and there was a hint of smugness to the dragons words. Not helping! Returning her attention towards the others, she shrugged. “I...I have no idea. She’s not really answering me right now. I don’t think she would, though. She knows what else is in that box is important for our future causes.” 

“You never know, she might have shoved it in my coat pocket to be funny.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t have been your coat pocket I’d have shoved it.” 

With a mixture of confusion and amusement, Catherine says to both of them, looking back and forth as she does “Are you two planning some double… Or triple? act? As this stuff is golden. I will leave you two to make up more material while I go to the little girls room.”

Once Catherine was in the bathroom, Merce looks at Anthony, and says sarcastically “She’s your girlfriend, and I’m out of ideas. The rest of this is on you.”

To this Anthony responds sighing, with just as much sarcasm, “Thanks. I’m out of ideas too.”

“Good thing no one’s paying you to think.” 

-----------------------------------

Once Catherine was entrenched in the bathroom, Anthony turns to Merce with an unhappy look on his face, and hisses. “Why in the name of her noble kind is your damned dragon being so prissy?!”

Merce blinked in surprise at Anthony’s ire and stepped back. “I don’t know! She said something about not wanting to be pranced around like a show dog. She agreed to let me tell Catherine, but not that she wanted any part of it.” Shoulders slumping, Merce turned away and moved to a safer distance by the window once more. “I tried, okay! But it’s not like I can force her to do anything.” Pausing, the human pinched the bridge of her nose. “If only we could find the key. Surely there’s enough proof in there.”

Anthony sighs, slumping a little. “Sorry, Merce. I put you on the spot, and Amphora too. I don’t want to lie about… Everything… To Catherine anymore.”

Turning slightly to look at Anthony, Merce gave him a pitying look. “I don’t blame you. It must be hard, keeping something so important from someone you love.” Pausing, she glanced towards the bathroom wearily then back. “My father died not ever knowing what I became; he thought I grew to dislike the family because I never came around. But I couldn’t show up looking twenty-five when I should have looked forty. My mothers not young anymore, but I at least try to call her once a month or more.” 

Sighing sadly, Merce leaned heavily on the window, forehead against the glass. “My advance, for what little it’s worth, is to let those you care about in. You’ll regret it and bounce around ‘what-ifs’ for the rest of your life if you don’t. Yeah, Catherine might think you’re a loon for now, but if she truly loves you she’ll either accept it or she won’t. Though,” pausing she huffed out a laugh, “having some proof would help matters.”