Paragon - Chapter 48: Chapter 48
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The light entering the room was starting to turn in hues of purple and blue. Dawn had arrived and Quinn slept soundly. Her chest rose and fell gently. I had only taken a few hours of sleep for myself–the rest of my mind was on her.
The hardest part was leaving.
I let a silent breath leave me before I moved her arm with careful efficiency. How was it that she always managed to find the most intricate ways of tangling her limbs around me in the night? I had even witnessed it this time... That restless energy she had until she found my side and released a breath before shaping herself around me.
Once her arms and legs were safely on her side of the bed and her warmth along with it, I felt much colder. But it wasn't a pleasant cold. It was one that ached to lie back down in that bed and surround myself in her.
I sat on the edge of it and half turned to her.
I had promised I would find her before I set out on Paragon's task tonight. I had not promised to ruin her sleep before then. I smirked, already knowing how I would make it up to her.
I moved like a shadow in the night. Gathering my discarded clothes quickly and outfitting myself in the darkness. Then I palmed my phone and requested the removal of my grand piano from my flat in Hyde Park from the moving team. The time still read 5:30 a.m.
That should arrive by lunch time. A nice little addition to her living room... A very good make. A very beautiful sound.
I texted a private car company–not expecting either of my drivers to be up on such short notice. They were still human after all. I slid my phone back into my pocket. Quinn's form was steadily breathing just as she had all night.
If you came back to me every time... I don't think I'd care. She had meant it when she said it, but how long would that remain true? Immortals had all the time in the world. All the problems to fix in history.
But Quinn didn't.
My phone lit in my pocket and I pulled it out and scanned the screen.
"Waiting outside, Ms Fletcher."
I lowered the phone and shook myself out of the thought paralysis. I turned my back on the one person I wanted the rest of my day–my everything with. Her door clicked shut behind me and I moved more quickly. I needed that police database. I needed my target's prison ID numbers, their cells and a clean entry point. I had less than 24 hours to get this done and yet I hardly needed it.
I was nothing if not good at what I was.
I left that house that was growing more familiar by the day. Each step heavier. But I had to shut away this side of myself. I was to become something darker once more. Something efficient and effective. An undying executioner for an elite and ancient group. One that made no mistakes and did not hesitate.
My foot hit the bottom step and a new driver was holding the door open to me as I strode into the dark leather interior. The drive to my underground parking was quick. Quinn lived thankfully close. I thanked the driver briskly and paced to the lift. By the time the doors opened to me my security system was alert. I typed in the codes quickly and the room welcomed me in the familiar dim lighting.
I flicked on classical music as I walked and drew a chrome packet out of the fridge. I took a seat at my desk and spun to meet three screens. Passwords. Credentials. A brief backdoor to surpass old logins for the police network–too easy to linger on. I took a careful sip of the rich crimson life.
My thoughts sharpened.
Paragon's details were brief. But they always were. They did not expect to have to waste their time supplying information. Fortunately that was something of my own speciality–though a lawyer I knew had that same affinity ten fold–focus god damn it.
I typed faster and drew up their names. Mug shots slapped across my screens. I noted the fairly bland appearances of the men in black and white. Then a quick assessment of their backgrounds that could potentially complicate matters. Nothing. They had no inside support as far as I could tell. Another check against known affiliates for the radical group they followed confirmed it. It still shocked me that intelligence services weren't aware of such men–yet things had happened before under such watches.
My research ended on them quickly. I knew where they would be between now and 6am tomorrow morning–at that point the window would close and they would be released on bail.
My infiltration had to be complete and unquestionable for less than twenty four hours. I drew up the register on all on-call guards. Then the uniforms. The company producing them. Within a few minutes I had effective blueprints for their design and forwarded them to a seamstress. But not just any designer. A place much more tailored.
Paragon tailors.
No questions. No price. One confirmation of a set of uniform. My next occupation... prison officer. My ID was also being fabricated along with a pass that would give me clearance inside.
A single reply.
"3 hours."
"Confirmed." I replied simply.
Immortals did not bother with formality. We bother with yes or no. Confirmed or unconfirmed. Dead or alive. The time read 7:15a.m. I nodded to myself and drained the remains of the chrome packet on the desk.
I rolled onto my feet out of the chair and went for the book shelf. I tapped the inside button and it slid open to me with its cool illuminated interior. Restocked completely.
I cast a quick eye over the weapons. All of which would be virtually unusable. They would be flagged upon entry. I needed something with a finer touch. I drew closer and assessed the smaller more lethal items. The glass vials beyond the gun barrels and blades. The chemical poisons. The colourless yet lethal variety. Utterly ineffective to us but rendering mortals lifeless in less than 10 minutes.
I took two vials.
I turned from the shelf and went to my fridge to pull out a mock imitation of fruit bar. I palmed a knife and sliced the plastic in two fine holes before sliding in each vial. It pressed against the packaging of the fake fruit snack and was almost entirely undetectable.
My phone flashed below me. I carefully secured the lethal 'snack' then pulled out the phone with half interest, expecting a new time for my uniform–
"I could have sworn I told you to be there when I woke up."
I grinned down at the screen and instantly melted out of the soulless assassin to the whims of whatever this mortal desired of me.
"You have my apology arriving later, Miss Adams."
"Will it include you?"
"I promise I will come to you before I begin my work tonight."
There was a pause, I considered that she may have started making herself breakfast. I glanced at the weapons lining the bookshelf and moved to close it once more.
"Fletcher, why is there a god damn piano outside my house and a bunch of men trying to get inside?"
I laughed out loud. They truly were the fastest team I had ever employed... But 7:25 now? I shook my head unable to shake the image of Quinn half dressed, trying to dismiss a bunch of hefty males from her house.
"That was my apology for leaving you this morning. Why don't you learn to play..." I smirked, practically seeing the glare through the screen.
"I have to get to work. Your boys can sort out this mess and they had better not stain my carpets on the way in."
"You have my word or I will replace them."
"That didn't sound sinister at all..." She replied, dripping sarcasm.
I ironically turned away from the closing shelf of varying lethality and back to the desk of profiles on my targets.
"I'm harmless. It's you they should worry about."
"I worry about you too."
I paused my stride and glanced out the wide glass. The sun rise was kissing the city beyond in stark orange streaks. Somewhere she was seeing the same thing. Getting ready for work, drinking coffee, getting in her driver's car... I sighed and shut my eyes.
Do the job. Do it well and you disappear from the radar.
"I'll see you soon, Quinn."
Her reply was as quick my thoughts.
"I'll see you soon, Fletcher."
* * * * *
The Spring sun was retreating behind buildings by the time I was slipping on a crisp white shirt and ID tag to my breast pocket. The fruit bar went into a nondescript black backpack along with a civilian change of clothes and a wallet full of fake IDs and credit cards. My name was already on their rota for tonight's shift.
By the time the database corrected the rotation I would already be gone in the early hours. As would two mortals. Despite the detail and precision I had already planned for this night... I still thought of her.
Stood in front of a wall of glass on the phone. Sat at her desk pulling up files and emailing her clients. Safely in the bubble of mortal work. Blended perfectly among them while I remained in the shadow. I pulled out my phone and drew up my favourite image. The pair of us stood in that gym–what seemed like a life time ago. I smiled down at the pixel generated image of my lawyer.
I swiped it away and dialled Jamerson.
"Ms Fletcher, good evening."
"And to you. I need a pick up to Henley & Bloom."
"I will be there momentarily." He answered in business like efficiency. I nodded and passed on my thanks. Then I strode back to the fridge and yanked out a chrome packet to swiftly drain the entire thing. I was more than strong enough to deal with much more than Paragon's work tonight. I opened my eyes and felt the eternal energy singing through me. Everything was sharper.
As I made my way to her office a number of potential events played out in my mind. None of them included what I was to carry out later. No, my mind was on a mortal and something I wanted to express.
We pulled up outside her glass building and I threw an overcoat across my shoulders to cover the guard uniform. I didn't even bother to steal a mortal's mind as I walked, I simply relied of a rapid slight of hand from a man engrossed in his phone call near the doorway. His ID card swung in my hand as I walked calmly through the security gates.
The lift was faster and empty at this time.
I glanced at my watch. 5:45 p.m.
My phone vibrated silently in my pocket. I pulled it out as the remaining few floors flew past.
Unknown number.
"Do note that your targets are former employees of the organisation. Take care tonight."
I stared at that text and the world spun around me in that steel box. The doors opened and I remained rooted in place. Former employees. Immortals. I was to terminate two immortals.
The doors started closing and I stopped them with a hand. The receptionists had already gone home for the night. I took a steady breath and stepped out of the lift so I could read the message at least five more times. They cannot be sending me after two immortals. Immortals would not be held in a mortal prison–they wouldn't be held anywhere.
That meant they were rogues from Paragon. That meant outside and inside help. That meant the poison in that fruit bar was utterly pointless and Paragon had deliberately kept this information from me until the last possible moment. This was a set up for demise which ever way I looked at it. Either face two rogues and survive until I could no longer–or refuse and be hunted by Paragon directly.
I dropped the phone into my pocket and tried to focus ahead of me.
I should walk back into that lift and pour the last few hours I had into preparing to face a pair of ex-elite immortal assassins. But if it was to be that dangerous and that was the game Paragon wanted to play, I would not play it. I'd rather spend the time with Quinn and damn the rest of the night. If it was to be it was to be.
I strode down the familiar hallway in its pristine beiges and cream walls. The hardwood echoed around my polished shoes that would fit into a guard rotation in only a few hours. Was that what William had been trying to communicate the moment before I ended him? Was he in that position? Had I been a crass fool?
I paused outside her door despite myself. My hand hovering to knock.
What would I begin to tell her? She would never let me leave without a fight if she knew what I was about to walk into... I didn't want anxiety and worry to fill her–I wanted to be the cause of something better–
The door opened inward before my hand and Quinn crashed headfirst into me dropping the phone from her ear and sucking in a breath. I caught the phone in one hand and her waist in the other. Her eyes were wide but animated all of a sudden. She grinned as she continued the conversation and led me back into her office with her free hand.
I was deposited on one of her chairs before her desk. It took away my present fears as quickly as her smile appeared. Her warmth and scent wrapped me in the world of Quinn and not endless cold that outside the room held.
She went for the door again in that tailored charcoal skirt and flawless shirt only unbuttoned twice at the neck. I let a deep breath leave me and stared at her desk as the door closed. A smile almost ghosted my lips at the paper weight that gleamed proudly of Los Vegas.
Now that was a story I wanted to hear...
I tried to calm my inner thoughts running wild about how short our future may really be if Paragon was setting me up like this. Or they really overestimated my abilities to deal with rogue assets. William was an egotistical moron and so an easy target. I wouldn't get so lucky again. They knew this.
The door opened behind me again and I smelled a fresh coffee enter the room.
Quinn's song like laughter filled the air and a real smile tugged at my lips this time. She rounded her desk in front of me with a knowing look as she took her seat. She nodded for a few moments and wrapped up the call. Still the professional I had met that first night.
She set the phone down and bridged her hands before herself on the desk slowly.
"And what can I do for you this evening, detective?" She drawled, with a set of burning green eyes. I stared back. Then had the strangest emotional wave punch me directly in the chest. I thought I had hidden it flawlessly–but she knew me too well now.
The frown took her face and erased the smile as I gripped the chair and tried to drag in a normal breath. But it wouldn't come like that. Even immortals had our limits when we were overwhelmed. She was out of her chair and before me in an instant.
"Fletcher, what's wrong?" She demanded.
But I could only stare at her. We had a plan. We had time. Until we suddenly didn't and nothing was simple and everything was death–
She took my face in her hands as she bent down to me on the chair. I had never struggled to control my calm before–school my breathing–but here I was on the verge of tears before this mortal. Feeling so very mortal myself all at once.
I was never invincible.
"I'm so–sorry Quinn." My voice broke along with another piece of armour.
"Tell me." She stated slowly.
"I–I..." I shut my eyes and trying to cling to something that would hold me together. Her hands on my face were enough for now. Her palm moved to the side so she could hold the side of my head and search my face. Nothing good was written there.
"I've screwed this up–Quinn. Paragon–don't want–they have set me up." I finally got out, opening my eyes and feeling the rare salt water glisten in them.
It made her whole demeanour change. But not in the way I expected. Not in the way that most would have fallen to. She had more power in her veins than any immortal either way. Her face became harder and resolved, as if the final event had pushed her to this finality.
"We're leaving, Fletcher."
"What?" I rasped, searching her face thinking she had misheard my damning words. "Quinn–Paragon. Not the police or the government. The immortals are finished with me. There is no where to go–"
"That's where you're wrong, detective." She interrupted in a calm that was keeping me sane and driving me mad in the same breath. "As I see it you've been trained in disappearing and I have my own assets I can liquidate in this city at short notice. Your assets are covered in them but mine aren't." She stated, rising and propping herself back against her desk. "You may have cut my card in half but I have more than enough to take care of the rest."
"You–Quinn they'll track us to the ends of the earth." I grit out, pressing my face into my hands.
"I'm not going to sit back and watch you get yourself killed for them. I don't give a damn who they are. I'm going and you're coming with me."
My breathing was still ragged as I fought my mind for a way to keep her out of all of this. Of some great moment of self sacrifice to keep her out of the crosshairs. But she deserved more than that. She had given too much away to me for that. I drew out of my hands finally and held that beautiful gaze. The eyes of the woman that would not run away from me.
"I'm doing this to you again..." I whispered, "–taking so much away from your life–"
"Respectfully, Fletcher. Shut the hell up and tell me what I need to do in the next few hours, please." She rounded her desk and sat in front of her computer. "You can wallow in self pity on the flight." She added, waiting for instructions.
I almost laughed. The insanity of it all. The complete lack of negotiation Quinn wore on her face. She would sooner burn her entire life to nothing before she let them have me. And I was struggling to rationalise how she loved me like this. I knew my feelings for her but...
"We need cash." I stated, finally finding the strength in my voice. "We need a commercial flight–lots of passengers. We'll need multiple forms of transport–forms that leave no digital footprint." I added, thinking of this madness as I spoke it. But Quinn was focused and alert, already moving behind her keyboard and scanning the screen. About to clean out accounts and transfer funds.
"We need somewhere we can get lost for a few weeks before transferring more remotely." I met her eyes over the desk. "Then I can give us something more solid to work with." She nodded and typed in more quickly before leaning back and levelling me cooly.
"How does South America sound?"
The hardest part was leaving.
I let a silent breath leave me before I moved her arm with careful efficiency. How was it that she always managed to find the most intricate ways of tangling her limbs around me in the night? I had even witnessed it this time... That restless energy she had until she found my side and released a breath before shaping herself around me.
Once her arms and legs were safely on her side of the bed and her warmth along with it, I felt much colder. But it wasn't a pleasant cold. It was one that ached to lie back down in that bed and surround myself in her.
I sat on the edge of it and half turned to her.
I had promised I would find her before I set out on Paragon's task tonight. I had not promised to ruin her sleep before then. I smirked, already knowing how I would make it up to her.
I moved like a shadow in the night. Gathering my discarded clothes quickly and outfitting myself in the darkness. Then I palmed my phone and requested the removal of my grand piano from my flat in Hyde Park from the moving team. The time still read 5:30 a.m.
That should arrive by lunch time. A nice little addition to her living room... A very good make. A very beautiful sound.
I texted a private car company–not expecting either of my drivers to be up on such short notice. They were still human after all. I slid my phone back into my pocket. Quinn's form was steadily breathing just as she had all night.
If you came back to me every time... I don't think I'd care. She had meant it when she said it, but how long would that remain true? Immortals had all the time in the world. All the problems to fix in history.
But Quinn didn't.
My phone lit in my pocket and I pulled it out and scanned the screen.
"Waiting outside, Ms Fletcher."
I lowered the phone and shook myself out of the thought paralysis. I turned my back on the one person I wanted the rest of my day–my everything with. Her door clicked shut behind me and I moved more quickly. I needed that police database. I needed my target's prison ID numbers, their cells and a clean entry point. I had less than 24 hours to get this done and yet I hardly needed it.
I was nothing if not good at what I was.
I left that house that was growing more familiar by the day. Each step heavier. But I had to shut away this side of myself. I was to become something darker once more. Something efficient and effective. An undying executioner for an elite and ancient group. One that made no mistakes and did not hesitate.
My foot hit the bottom step and a new driver was holding the door open to me as I strode into the dark leather interior. The drive to my underground parking was quick. Quinn lived thankfully close. I thanked the driver briskly and paced to the lift. By the time the doors opened to me my security system was alert. I typed in the codes quickly and the room welcomed me in the familiar dim lighting.
I flicked on classical music as I walked and drew a chrome packet out of the fridge. I took a seat at my desk and spun to meet three screens. Passwords. Credentials. A brief backdoor to surpass old logins for the police network–too easy to linger on. I took a careful sip of the rich crimson life.
My thoughts sharpened.
Paragon's details were brief. But they always were. They did not expect to have to waste their time supplying information. Fortunately that was something of my own speciality–though a lawyer I knew had that same affinity ten fold–focus god damn it.
I typed faster and drew up their names. Mug shots slapped across my screens. I noted the fairly bland appearances of the men in black and white. Then a quick assessment of their backgrounds that could potentially complicate matters. Nothing. They had no inside support as far as I could tell. Another check against known affiliates for the radical group they followed confirmed it. It still shocked me that intelligence services weren't aware of such men–yet things had happened before under such watches.
My research ended on them quickly. I knew where they would be between now and 6am tomorrow morning–at that point the window would close and they would be released on bail.
My infiltration had to be complete and unquestionable for less than twenty four hours. I drew up the register on all on-call guards. Then the uniforms. The company producing them. Within a few minutes I had effective blueprints for their design and forwarded them to a seamstress. But not just any designer. A place much more tailored.
Paragon tailors.
No questions. No price. One confirmation of a set of uniform. My next occupation... prison officer. My ID was also being fabricated along with a pass that would give me clearance inside.
A single reply.
"3 hours."
"Confirmed." I replied simply.
Immortals did not bother with formality. We bother with yes or no. Confirmed or unconfirmed. Dead or alive. The time read 7:15a.m. I nodded to myself and drained the remains of the chrome packet on the desk.
I rolled onto my feet out of the chair and went for the book shelf. I tapped the inside button and it slid open to me with its cool illuminated interior. Restocked completely.
I cast a quick eye over the weapons. All of which would be virtually unusable. They would be flagged upon entry. I needed something with a finer touch. I drew closer and assessed the smaller more lethal items. The glass vials beyond the gun barrels and blades. The chemical poisons. The colourless yet lethal variety. Utterly ineffective to us but rendering mortals lifeless in less than 10 minutes.
I took two vials.
I turned from the shelf and went to my fridge to pull out a mock imitation of fruit bar. I palmed a knife and sliced the plastic in two fine holes before sliding in each vial. It pressed against the packaging of the fake fruit snack and was almost entirely undetectable.
My phone flashed below me. I carefully secured the lethal 'snack' then pulled out the phone with half interest, expecting a new time for my uniform–
"I could have sworn I told you to be there when I woke up."
I grinned down at the screen and instantly melted out of the soulless assassin to the whims of whatever this mortal desired of me.
"You have my apology arriving later, Miss Adams."
"Will it include you?"
"I promise I will come to you before I begin my work tonight."
There was a pause, I considered that she may have started making herself breakfast. I glanced at the weapons lining the bookshelf and moved to close it once more.
"Fletcher, why is there a god damn piano outside my house and a bunch of men trying to get inside?"
I laughed out loud. They truly were the fastest team I had ever employed... But 7:25 now? I shook my head unable to shake the image of Quinn half dressed, trying to dismiss a bunch of hefty males from her house.
"That was my apology for leaving you this morning. Why don't you learn to play..." I smirked, practically seeing the glare through the screen.
"I have to get to work. Your boys can sort out this mess and they had better not stain my carpets on the way in."
"You have my word or I will replace them."
"That didn't sound sinister at all..." She replied, dripping sarcasm.
I ironically turned away from the closing shelf of varying lethality and back to the desk of profiles on my targets.
"I'm harmless. It's you they should worry about."
"I worry about you too."
I paused my stride and glanced out the wide glass. The sun rise was kissing the city beyond in stark orange streaks. Somewhere she was seeing the same thing. Getting ready for work, drinking coffee, getting in her driver's car... I sighed and shut my eyes.
Do the job. Do it well and you disappear from the radar.
"I'll see you soon, Quinn."
Her reply was as quick my thoughts.
"I'll see you soon, Fletcher."
* * * * *
The Spring sun was retreating behind buildings by the time I was slipping on a crisp white shirt and ID tag to my breast pocket. The fruit bar went into a nondescript black backpack along with a civilian change of clothes and a wallet full of fake IDs and credit cards. My name was already on their rota for tonight's shift.
By the time the database corrected the rotation I would already be gone in the early hours. As would two mortals. Despite the detail and precision I had already planned for this night... I still thought of her.
Stood in front of a wall of glass on the phone. Sat at her desk pulling up files and emailing her clients. Safely in the bubble of mortal work. Blended perfectly among them while I remained in the shadow. I pulled out my phone and drew up my favourite image. The pair of us stood in that gym–what seemed like a life time ago. I smiled down at the pixel generated image of my lawyer.
I swiped it away and dialled Jamerson.
"Ms Fletcher, good evening."
"And to you. I need a pick up to Henley & Bloom."
"I will be there momentarily." He answered in business like efficiency. I nodded and passed on my thanks. Then I strode back to the fridge and yanked out a chrome packet to swiftly drain the entire thing. I was more than strong enough to deal with much more than Paragon's work tonight. I opened my eyes and felt the eternal energy singing through me. Everything was sharper.
As I made my way to her office a number of potential events played out in my mind. None of them included what I was to carry out later. No, my mind was on a mortal and something I wanted to express.
We pulled up outside her glass building and I threw an overcoat across my shoulders to cover the guard uniform. I didn't even bother to steal a mortal's mind as I walked, I simply relied of a rapid slight of hand from a man engrossed in his phone call near the doorway. His ID card swung in my hand as I walked calmly through the security gates.
The lift was faster and empty at this time.
I glanced at my watch. 5:45 p.m.
My phone vibrated silently in my pocket. I pulled it out as the remaining few floors flew past.
Unknown number.
"Do note that your targets are former employees of the organisation. Take care tonight."
I stared at that text and the world spun around me in that steel box. The doors opened and I remained rooted in place. Former employees. Immortals. I was to terminate two immortals.
The doors started closing and I stopped them with a hand. The receptionists had already gone home for the night. I took a steady breath and stepped out of the lift so I could read the message at least five more times. They cannot be sending me after two immortals. Immortals would not be held in a mortal prison–they wouldn't be held anywhere.
That meant they were rogues from Paragon. That meant outside and inside help. That meant the poison in that fruit bar was utterly pointless and Paragon had deliberately kept this information from me until the last possible moment. This was a set up for demise which ever way I looked at it. Either face two rogues and survive until I could no longer–or refuse and be hunted by Paragon directly.
I dropped the phone into my pocket and tried to focus ahead of me.
I should walk back into that lift and pour the last few hours I had into preparing to face a pair of ex-elite immortal assassins. But if it was to be that dangerous and that was the game Paragon wanted to play, I would not play it. I'd rather spend the time with Quinn and damn the rest of the night. If it was to be it was to be.
I strode down the familiar hallway in its pristine beiges and cream walls. The hardwood echoed around my polished shoes that would fit into a guard rotation in only a few hours. Was that what William had been trying to communicate the moment before I ended him? Was he in that position? Had I been a crass fool?
I paused outside her door despite myself. My hand hovering to knock.
What would I begin to tell her? She would never let me leave without a fight if she knew what I was about to walk into... I didn't want anxiety and worry to fill her–I wanted to be the cause of something better–
The door opened inward before my hand and Quinn crashed headfirst into me dropping the phone from her ear and sucking in a breath. I caught the phone in one hand and her waist in the other. Her eyes were wide but animated all of a sudden. She grinned as she continued the conversation and led me back into her office with her free hand.
I was deposited on one of her chairs before her desk. It took away my present fears as quickly as her smile appeared. Her warmth and scent wrapped me in the world of Quinn and not endless cold that outside the room held.
She went for the door again in that tailored charcoal skirt and flawless shirt only unbuttoned twice at the neck. I let a deep breath leave me and stared at her desk as the door closed. A smile almost ghosted my lips at the paper weight that gleamed proudly of Los Vegas.
Now that was a story I wanted to hear...
I tried to calm my inner thoughts running wild about how short our future may really be if Paragon was setting me up like this. Or they really overestimated my abilities to deal with rogue assets. William was an egotistical moron and so an easy target. I wouldn't get so lucky again. They knew this.
The door opened behind me again and I smelled a fresh coffee enter the room.
Quinn's song like laughter filled the air and a real smile tugged at my lips this time. She rounded her desk in front of me with a knowing look as she took her seat. She nodded for a few moments and wrapped up the call. Still the professional I had met that first night.
She set the phone down and bridged her hands before herself on the desk slowly.
"And what can I do for you this evening, detective?" She drawled, with a set of burning green eyes. I stared back. Then had the strangest emotional wave punch me directly in the chest. I thought I had hidden it flawlessly–but she knew me too well now.
The frown took her face and erased the smile as I gripped the chair and tried to drag in a normal breath. But it wouldn't come like that. Even immortals had our limits when we were overwhelmed. She was out of her chair and before me in an instant.
"Fletcher, what's wrong?" She demanded.
But I could only stare at her. We had a plan. We had time. Until we suddenly didn't and nothing was simple and everything was death–
She took my face in her hands as she bent down to me on the chair. I had never struggled to control my calm before–school my breathing–but here I was on the verge of tears before this mortal. Feeling so very mortal myself all at once.
I was never invincible.
"I'm so–sorry Quinn." My voice broke along with another piece of armour.
"Tell me." She stated slowly.
"I–I..." I shut my eyes and trying to cling to something that would hold me together. Her hands on my face were enough for now. Her palm moved to the side so she could hold the side of my head and search my face. Nothing good was written there.
"I've screwed this up–Quinn. Paragon–don't want–they have set me up." I finally got out, opening my eyes and feeling the rare salt water glisten in them.
It made her whole demeanour change. But not in the way I expected. Not in the way that most would have fallen to. She had more power in her veins than any immortal either way. Her face became harder and resolved, as if the final event had pushed her to this finality.
"We're leaving, Fletcher."
"What?" I rasped, searching her face thinking she had misheard my damning words. "Quinn–Paragon. Not the police or the government. The immortals are finished with me. There is no where to go–"
"That's where you're wrong, detective." She interrupted in a calm that was keeping me sane and driving me mad in the same breath. "As I see it you've been trained in disappearing and I have my own assets I can liquidate in this city at short notice. Your assets are covered in them but mine aren't." She stated, rising and propping herself back against her desk. "You may have cut my card in half but I have more than enough to take care of the rest."
"You–Quinn they'll track us to the ends of the earth." I grit out, pressing my face into my hands.
"I'm not going to sit back and watch you get yourself killed for them. I don't give a damn who they are. I'm going and you're coming with me."
My breathing was still ragged as I fought my mind for a way to keep her out of all of this. Of some great moment of self sacrifice to keep her out of the crosshairs. But she deserved more than that. She had given too much away to me for that. I drew out of my hands finally and held that beautiful gaze. The eyes of the woman that would not run away from me.
"I'm doing this to you again..." I whispered, "–taking so much away from your life–"
"Respectfully, Fletcher. Shut the hell up and tell me what I need to do in the next few hours, please." She rounded her desk and sat in front of her computer. "You can wallow in self pity on the flight." She added, waiting for instructions.
I almost laughed. The insanity of it all. The complete lack of negotiation Quinn wore on her face. She would sooner burn her entire life to nothing before she let them have me. And I was struggling to rationalise how she loved me like this. I knew my feelings for her but...
"We need cash." I stated, finally finding the strength in my voice. "We need a commercial flight–lots of passengers. We'll need multiple forms of transport–forms that leave no digital footprint." I added, thinking of this madness as I spoke it. But Quinn was focused and alert, already moving behind her keyboard and scanning the screen. About to clean out accounts and transfer funds.
"We need somewhere we can get lost for a few weeks before transferring more remotely." I met her eyes over the desk. "Then I can give us something more solid to work with." She nodded and typed in more quickly before leaning back and levelling me cooly.
"How does South America sound?"
End of Paragon Chapter 48. Continue reading Chapter 49 or return to Paragon book page.