arboreal_priestess | The Nest, Baltimore Warehouse District, Friday Afternoon (Reply)

The hidebehind glamour that had once hidden the true contents of the converted warehouse that held the dragons' Nest was gone. They had been able to see the true structure of the building from the minute they walked through the front door. This had been more difficult than she expected it to be, since the dragons' overpriced bodega was also gone, and that was the only easy ground floor entrance to the slaughterhouse courtyard. Luckily, the three of them had been picking locks since before they could tie their shoes, but it would have been nice to have a little warning.

The power still worked - that made sense, since it wasn't like the dragons had ever been paying for it in the first place - and after flipping a few dozen switches, they were able to get a good idea of what they were dealing with: a huge, two-story building with a ground floor that consisted almost entirely of one enormous room. The gold that used to fill the place was gone, taken by the dragons when they moved to their new home beneath the city. The patched-together carpet was still on the floor, but that was about it. There was no furniture, and whatever illusion the building might have possessed of being something other than a part of the industrial wasteland had departed with the dragons.

Stairs led to the offices on the second floor, which were arrayed all the way around the edges of the room. A waist-high rail ran along the walkway to keep people from plummeting to their deaths. There were enough offices that they could each have one as a bedroom, with another to use as an armory, and another for the mice. Even after all that, there were easily half a dozen offices standing empty, and they hadn't even looked at the basement.

The mice were thrilled about having an entire warehouse for their Barbie Nightmare House. They had started arranging raiding parties as soon as Verity put them down. All the raiding parties were armed with tiny spears, crossbows, and swords. There would be no rats left in the warehouse by morning, and the mice would feast for days.

It could be easy to forget that Aeslin weren't cute Disney cartoons come to life. They were vicious fighters when they had to be, and they'd survived in a world filled with bigger, meaner, better-armed creatures by being smart and absolutely ruthless. That was something else they had in common with Verity's family. Prices and Aeslin always, always shot to kill.

Uncle Mike	"Verity!" Ryan and Mike were on the main floor of the slaughterhouse, piling her meager possessions - mostly weapons and clothing - around the coolers and gear boxes Mike had brought with him from Chicago. "Do you own a bed?" asked Mike. He somehow managed to shout without sounding like he was shouting. A skill developed to make it easier to talk to sea monsters who didn't feel like coming to shore, but didn't want to be yelled at, either.
Verity	"Uhhhh," Verity looked at Liam. "My apartment was mostly furnished when I arrived." The ugly old card table in the kitchen? That was hers. "Should we bring yours?"
Liam	And don't think they weren't getting rid of that card table the minute this was all over, Verity. For reasons. "We could," Liam mused. "The guys at the house will probably just assume we've taken it to the apartment, after all."
Verity	Hey! She loved that card table! ...Though, considering certain conversations, she could see an argument in favor of changing. "Yeah, we're good," Verity called down. She sat down on the walkway, squeezing through the gap between the bars intended to keep them from plummeting to their deaths. Then she turned, hooking her toes against the base of the rail, and leaned backward. This resulted in her dangling about eight feet off the floor. Mike and Ryan watched this process without comment.
Uncle Mike	"Got it. You might wanna figure out how to bring it in. We're going to want to pick up some inflatables, maybe a bean bag chair or something. Things we can carry in without attracting attention." Mike returned to surveying her belongings, for all the world like she wasn't dangling from the walkway behind him. She leaned forward again, grabbed the lowest bar of the railing, and tucked her knees, bracing against the side of the walkway in a sort of horizontal squat before letting her feet drop. "I think we've got enough food to hold out for a few days - did you know there's a full kitchen?”
Verity	"I guess they couldn't replace that with gold," she said, hand-walking her way over to the nearest of the support beams holding up the walkway. It was like the monkey bars on her elementary school playground, only without as many yard monitors waiting to tell her that it wasn't ladylike to climb. "Thanks again for helping us get moved in, Ryan."
Ryan	"Yeah, about that - it wasn't purely altruistic." The therianthrope bartender moved toward her as he spoke, lacking Uncle Mike's skill at shouting without shouting. "I wanted to ask you for a favor."
Verity	"Name it." She had reached the pillar. Verity grasped it firmly with my knees and let go of the rail, flipping so that she was facing toward the floor. With this accomplished, she began climbing carefully down. "Istas and I were wondering if maybe - what the hell are you doing?" "I'm going to assume that wasn't your original question. What I'm doing is figuring out the tactical shape of the room. Most of the time, if I can't shoot something in the first thirty seconds of dealing with it, my style of staying alive involves being able to go up as much as possible. So knowing what will and won't support my weight is important." It was also fun, and extremely relaxing. She needed to relax. This wasn't going to end overnight. "And it gives Liam something fun to watch while we get moved in."
Liam	"She's not wrong," Liam said with an appreciative smile, because yes, watching his girlfriend whenever she was fully in her element was absolutely a good time. He, too, needed that little spot of brightness against the dark that was looming.
Ryan	"Oh. That's weird, Very," Ryan said, shaking his head at the pair of them. "Anyway, Istas and I were wondering if we could come and stay here with you. You know, until all this is taken care of. Kitty says we can crash at the Freakshow if we want, but Istas really can't do crowds twenty-four seven. I'm afraid she'd take somebody's head off. And then she'd eat it, which would probably get her fired."
Verity	"Oh, but I'm weird," Verity muttered. "You really want to crash with us?" She grabbed the pillar and flipped herself around again, landing with her feet neatly on the floor. Then she blinked at Ryan. "You realize that if the Covenant finds out about this place, it's going to be open season."
Ryan	"I don't think any place in this city is safe now that they're here," Ryan pointed out. "I'd rather be unsafe with you than unsafe on my own, and I don't want Istas eating one of the barmaids without a really good reason."
Verity	That was a fair point. Still, she wasn't the only person living here. "Liam?" she asked, glancing up at her boyfriend.
Liam	"I'm never one to turn down an offer of extra muscle," he said. "Your call, though."
Uncle Mike	Verity glanced at her uncle who shrugged and pointed up at Liam. "I like the way he thinks," he said. "And I can cook for five as easy as I can cook for three."
Verity	Given that Ryan and Istas were both therianthropes, Verity was pretty sure Mike was going to regret saying that. This wasn't the time to point that out. She turned back to Ryan. "As long as you can be subtle about moving your stuff over here, you and Istas are both welcome to stay." Part of her wanted to add and so is anybody else who wants to come. The sensible part of her - the one that understood that this was about to become a war zone and not an all-friends catered slumber party - stepped in, and didn't let the words get out.
Ryan	Ryan grinned, relief obvious. "I'll go tell Istas. Thanks a lot, Very."
Verity	"Don't thank me until you've spent your first night trying to sleep through the mice," she said - but she let him hug her when he stepped closer, and she hugged him back with equal fervor. There was something to be said for keeping your friends around you when things get bad. It might not be good for their life expectancies, but it was sure as hell easier on the heart.
Liam	It was at that moment that Liam's Global chirped at him, and he opened it up, tapping at something on the screen. "The trace finished running," he reported. "We've got an address."
Verity	Verity's head snapped up and moments later she was climbing up a support pole back to the second floor. "On the car?"
Liam	Liam nodded. "The billing address for the card used for the rental is an apartment downtown." He frowned, bringing up the specs on the building from the rental management company's site. "It's small. I doubt he's keeping the entire Covenant team there."
Verity	"No, but he may have left something that we can use to figure out where he's gone," Verity said, biting her lip. "But if he did, it won't be there for long." Whether accidental or with the assumption they'd somehow find it, Dominic was too smart to keep anything incriminating around for too long.
Liam	"Then we should go check it out as soon as possible," Liam pointed out. "Before the trail gets cold."
Verity	"But I'm supposed to go and talk to James and Dennis about their options now that the Covenant are in town," Verity said, biting her lip. "Dennis is really freaking out, and James thinks that I might be able to talk him down." And considering how flaky she'd been recently re: dancing, Verity kind of felt like she owed them that much.
Liam	"Divide and conquer," Liam said, after a moment. "You go talk to James and Dennis, I'll go to the apartment and see if Dominic's left anything for us." This is what teamwork was for, Verity!
Verity	Verity bit her lip. That was putting Liam in an awfully risky position. At the same time...she either trusted him to get it done or she didn't. And this was Liam, so... She trusted him. "Okay," she said finally. "That's pretty much the best plan we have right now." He wouldn't have suggested it if he couldn't do it, so she didn't bother to ask him if he was sure. Instead, she just poked her head back over the railing. "Hey, Uncle Mike? We're going out for a little while. Can you get things set up here?"
Uncle Mike	"Depends. Are you going to go do something stupid that your folks would want me to forbid you to do?"
Verity	"Nope. And it's not like you can forbid me to do anything anyway." Verity smiled winningly. "But Liam's just going to break into Dominic's apartment and see if he can find anything to tell us where the Covenant is staying while they're in town."
Uncle Mike	"Oh, is that all?" Mike waved a hand dismissively. "One of you pick up some eggs while you're out. I'll make frittatas in the morning. Also, write down the address and leave it by the door. If you're not back in an hour, Liam, I'll go over to have a chat with your friend." Any 'chat' Mike described in those terms generally involved a crowbar. Welcome to the family, Liam.
Liam	Well that was... oddly touching, in its own way? "Will do," Liam said with a nod. "Though hopefully it won't come to that."
Verity	"Hope is a frail thing these days," Verity murmured, kissing Liam and heading for the nearest stairway to let herself out onto the roof. The dragons had been living in the Warehouse District for so long that their renovated warehouse was surrounded on all sides by buildings whose tenants probably had no idea what was in that sealed-off courtyard. Baltimore was an old enough city that it had more than its share of odd architectural quirks like that, little streets that led to nowhere, little courtyards that technically weren't accessible unless you know the secret steps to get you there. Verity stopped on the edge of the slaughterhouse roof, looking around as she assessed my position. This was her neighborhood now. She might never see the apartment she'd been renting on the island again. The thought was oddly sobering and not one she'd consciously thought of. Even if she survived, her time in Baltimore was almost up. The deal she'd made with her family was for a had been for . At the end of that, she was supposed to choose between cryptozoology and dancing. She had until just after the New Year left in her original plan. When this ended, she was either cutting ties with the cryptid community, or she was going home. At least, that had been the original plan. Fuck, she needed to talk to Liam. She'd just...add that to the to-do list, she supposed as she leapt off the roof and let the wind take her.

Liam	Liam, meanwhile, left via the street entrance and waited until he'd put a few blocks between himself and the Nest before making his way to the city's rooftops. The address he'd found was for a nondescript live-work building that looked like it had last been renovated sometime in the early nineties, when all the dot-com kids were totally in love with the idea of working themselves into an early, if lucrative, grave. Dominic's apartment was on the nineteenth floor. That worked out well for Liam, since the building was only twenty-three stories high. A little bit of air was a nice thing to have, too much air could lead to plummeting. Eventually, he was going to have to figure out whether or not Portals would work here. A single-use dart directly on to the balcony would've eliminated the possibility of plummeting altogether. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option at the moment, so Liam was making do with a climbing harness. He measured out the length he figured he'd need, and then tied it off and secured it to one of the building's heating vents. Verity was fond of a particular move that involved jumping off the edge of the building and falling straight down, but Liam much preferred rappelling down the side. When he finally ran out of rope, he found himself dangling a few feet above a balcony. Unclipping the rope from his harness, he dropped down to the balcony floor, and found himself face-to-face with... a small child, standing behind the sliding-glass door that led in to the apartment.
Small Child	The small child blinked at Liam in surprise then opened the door to step out onto the balcony. "Whoooooa," he said.
Liam	Caught off guard, Liam said the first thing that popped in to his head: "Didn't your parents ever teach you not to open the door for a stranger?" Maybe a little ironic, coming from a guy whose parents hadn't actually taught him anything.
Small Child	"Superheroes aren't strangers," he said, with calm matter-of-factness. "You flew onto the balcony. Strangers don't fly. If strangers could fly, I'd never be allowed outside. So you're a superhero. Like the man next door."
Liam	Like the- Oh. Right. "That's who I was coming here to see," Liam said, quickly. "We're having a-" shit, what was the word? "... Team-up. Can you tell me which balcony is his? It's pretty hard to aim precisely when you're heading for something the size of a building."
Small Child	The little boy pointed solemnly to the balcony to the right.
Liam	"Thanks, kid," Liam said, grabbing the dangling rope and hopping up on to the balcony railing, hooking it on to the nearby fire escape. Then, just as he was about to jump over to the next balcony, he paused and looked back at the kid. "Some bad guys can fly too, so it's probably a good idea not to open your door for anyone you don't know from now on."
Small Child	"Okay," said the boy, and closed the door. When a superhero told you to do something, you did it.
Liam	Liam chuckled a little to himself as he made the jump and landed on the other balcony. 'Secrecy' and 'caution' seemed to be two of Dominic's favorite words when he was talking to Verity, and yet he'd failed to consider whether or not his own neighbors could see him from their balcony. He reached for the door, which slid open easily. Liam raised an eyebrow. Nineteenth floor or not, Dominic really ought to give some consideration to exterior security. He made a mental note to talk to the other man about it after all of this was over. Assuming, of course, they were still on speaking terms after all of this was over. The other possibility was, of course, that this was all a trap. Liam stood still for several moments, weighing that possibility against the need to know what was inside. In the end, need-to-know won out. The bare wood floor and empty, Ikea-issue shelves were reminiscent of Liam's own interior decorating tendencies, if he were being perfectly honest. What little furniture he had was clearly window dressing, purchased because it was expected of him, and then practically unused. He moved through the apartment silently, opening every drawer and cabinet. The coat closet was filled with weapons, ranging from a longbow and three quivers of arrows to an assortment of pole arms that had clearly become part of the standard equipment back during the Covenant's dragon slaying days. The pantry held nothing but ramen noodles, canned chicken, and generic macaroni and cheese, the kind that never looked like food, no matter what you did to it. The fridge was a little better— at least it had a few cartons of takeout Chinese food. Liam recognized them as coming from the Chinese place they'd had lunch at a couple times. Maybe he didn't know anything closer. The medicine cabinet in the bathroom was packed with first aid supplies both mundane and magical (the latter of which Liam could more or less pick out by now, even). Band-Aids and gauze pads, over-the-counter painkillers and powdered basilisk bones, antibiotics and antivenin, even some Tylenol 3 with codeine—all the things your modern monster hunter needed if he was going to keep fighting. Once he had exhausted the rest of the apartment, Liam moved on to the bedroom. Dominic's bed was a twin-sized futon mattress without a frame, shoved up against the wall like an afterthought. Looking at it caused an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Liam's stomach. The Covenant gave him resources and access to knowledge stretching back for centuries. What it didn't give him was anything like the partnership Liam himself had with Verity: where he had someone to make sure he slept in a real bed, and she had someone to insist she ate something other than shrimp-flavored ramen. "Dammit, Dominic," Liam murmured to himself, and began searching the bedroom. He found what he was looking for under the futon: a sheet of paper on which was written a dockside address, the number for a car rental service— labeled— and another number, unlabeled. He straightened, tucking the sheet of paper into his jacket pocket.
Dominic	"I couldn't tell you, but I could count on you finding a way to come and get it for yourself," said Dominic. "Well, one of you, anyway. Wasn't sure if it would be you or Verity. Hello, Liam."
Liam	Liam went very still. And then, after a moment, he turned around slowly, hoping that Dominic didn't have a gun or a crossbow or something trained on him. Instead, the other man was just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking faintly defeated.
Dominic	"They're getting settled into our temporary residence," he said quietly. "I've been sent out for food. If you can recommend an 'authentic Italian' restaurant that does takeout, I'd be very grateful. None of the places I go will meet their standards."
Liam	"Dominic," Liam started to say, and then floundered. 'Sorry for breaking in to your apartment' seemed kind of trite. And also a lie. He wasn't all that sorry. "Verity wanted to come," he settled on, finally, "but she had other people she needed to warn about-" Well. Dominic knew.
Dominic	A very small smile crossed his face. "You found the place faster than I expected you to. I was actually stopping by to pick up a few things." He shoved his hand through his hair. "Probably for the best," he added. "I can say I haven't seen the Price girl today with a clear conscience."
Liam	"'A few things'?" Liam echoed, eyebrow raised. "Like what? There's nothing here to pick up. You might as well be living out of cardboard boxes." He was faintly aware that this was something of a pot calling the kettle black situation, here, and suddenly had a newfound understanding of Verity's dismay with his own (previous) living situation.
Dominic	"I threw those out months ago." His smile faded, expression composing itself. "Liam..."
Liam	"Are you okay?" Liam asked. "Those Covenant people, they're treating you all right?" The question sounded stupid, even to his own ears, but it was the only thing that sprung to mind.
Dominic	Dominic's expression was wry. "Why would they hurt me? They think I'm one of them."
Liam	In Liam's experience, that didn't actually mean much, and he had the scars to prove it. Still... "Are you?" he asked, pointedly.
Dominic	Another smile crossed his face. This one was sadder, and died even faster than its predecessor. "I don't know, Liam. I wish I did."
Liam	"I'm sorry," Liam said, softly. He reached out to place a hand on Dominic's shoulder. "If you need anything, call? Either Verity or I will try to come, if we can."
Dominic	"If I call you, run. There's no guarantee I'll be doing it for the right reasons - or even of my own free will." He leaned forward to rest a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Either I'll have betrayed you, or they'll have compelled me. It's not worth the risk."
Liam	"You're probably right," Liam agreed, somewhat reluctantly.
Dominic	"You can't come here again," Dominic said, abruptly letting go and taking an unsteady step back. "Once they're settled, they'll begin patrolling, and this is technically Covenant property. They'll feel free to come and go here as they like. I can't risk them stumbling over either of you because they stopped to resupply themselves."
Liam	"I don't suppose you can give me their names, can you? Just so we can figure out who we're dealing with?" Liam wondered.
Dominic	Dominic hesitated, concern suddenly written all over his face.
Liam	"Come on," Liam said, his tone sharp. "Verity and I are outnumbered, here," not strictly true, but given how he couldn’t be sure where Dominic stood, it was best not to let on anything about Mike's presence. "It's not betraying the Covenant to let me know who we're going to be fighting against."
Dominic	He sighed. "All three are from the British arm of the Covenant, possibly because that was where I had the bulk of my training, after my parents died. The men are Peter Brandt and Robert Bullard. The woman...Liam please understand that I had absolutely no influence in choosing who would be sent with this team. And impress that fact upon Verity if you would." Dominic made a frustrated noise, pressed his knuckles against his eyes. "The woman's name is Margaret Healy. She's Verity's third cousin. And if there is anyone in the Covenant who hates that branch of the family more than she does, I have yet to have the misfortune of meeting them."
Liam	There was silence as Liam absorbed that information. "Oh," he managed finally, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Well, shit." He thought that summed things up rather well.
Dominic	Dominic sighed again. "My thought exactly. If she finds out about Verity's existence..."
Liam	"Then the situation will go from bad, to nuclear," Liam said with a nod.
Dominic	"You need to let her know," Dominic said. "Especially since I can't guarantee than any future interactions between us will be this peaceful - or this honest."
Liam	"Of course," Liam said. He'd never had any intention of not letting Verity know, but he appreciated Dominic's insistence on the matter. "I understand."
Dominic	"I should go," Dominic said, an odd expression - something like wistfulness, maybe - crossing his face. "But...before I do...please know that my affections for you and for Verity were - are - genuine. I like you, Liam Kincaid. Regardless of how things go from here, please remember that. There was a time, however short, where we were just people, and I allowed myself to care about you." He smiled ruefully. "For all the good that does us now."
Liam	"I care about you too," Liam admitted with a sad little smile. "I may not know what the future holds, but I don't regret our friendship for a moment."
Dominic	"Then let's hope that's enough to get us through this and to the other side." Dominic bowed, oddly formal. Or perhaps, not so oddly, considering this was goodbye. "My very best to Verity, with the understanding of how little that is," he murmured and then was gone.
Liam	And a moment later Liam too was gone the way he'd come; out the balcony door and climbing back up to the roof of the building. He waited until he'd put some distance between the apartment and the Nest before he took out his Global and dialed Verity's number, turning on the signal scrambler as an extra precaution.
Verity	Verity answered immediately; Liam could hear raised voices arguing in Spanish coming down the line. "Why shouldn't I hang up right now?" she demanded. The arguing stopped and James and George looked at her, concerned. Verity waved them off. That was how her family answered the phone, they were fine.
Liam	Liam was accustomed by now to Verity's particular way of answering the phone. Conversely, he was never going to get used to voice-only calls; not being able to see the face of the person on the other end of the line was downright unsettling. "Because this can't wait until I see you in person," Liam replied. Yeah, the chances of the line being tapped were extremely slim, but he still wasn't going to risk identifying where they were staying if being overheard was a possibility.
Verity	"That's a good reason," Verity said, her voice immediately changing to concerned. "What's up. Are you okay?"
Liam	"I'm fine," Liam assured her. "But Very, I spoke to Dominic. He gave me the names of the Covenant agents who are here."
Verity	"Okaaay," Verity said. "That's good intel, I bet my dad can probably pull up some information about them once we get him the names." Didn't quite understand the urgency though. Was Grand High Inquisitor Jerkface among them...?
Liam	"Peter Brandt," Liam recited. "Robert Bullard. And-" he took a deep breath. "Margaret Healy."
Verity	"Say that last name again." And the concern was gone from her voice, too, leaving pure professionalism behind.
Liam	"Healy," Liam repeated dutifully. "Margaret Healy. She's your third cousin, apparently."
Verity	"Well then," Verity said, taking a deep breath. "That sounds like you're just about finished up there. Head back, apprise Mike of what you heard, my Dad's gonna want to know this immediately. I'm going to give James ten more minutes to fuss about nothing and then I'm going to throw him and Dennis on the next Greyhound out of town, whether he's packed or not." James ducked his head and mumbled something, then slipped out of the living room. Dennis glared at her and did the same. "As soon as I drop them off at the station, I'll be on my way back."
Liam	"Okay," Liam said, because there really wasn't much else to say to that just now. Yes, Dominic had wanted him to pass on that he'd been uninvolved in the selection process, but that much could wait until he saw her in person. "See you soon."
Verity	"Be safe," Verity said and hung up. The fact that her cousin was here was rocketing around her brain, demanding her attention. But she couldn't think about that now. Not while she still had James and Dennis to worry about. "Let's go, let's go!" she shouted. "Your bus leaves in twenty minutes, we need to move."

Verity	Verity ran the rooftops faster than she ever had before, managing to make the leaps and changes in elevation needed through a combination of skill and raw terror. Terror was a powerful motivator toward perfection. Even so, it was something of a miracle when she reached the Warehouse District without falling to her death. Margaret Healy. The woman who was almost certainly going to kill her was named Margaret Healy. Her friends probably called her 'Peggy' or something - if being a member of the Covenant of St. George left her any time for making friends. She was probably a really nice person in her off hours. And she had all the training, resources, and focus she needed to take Verity down. I'm so screwed. That thought clung to the front of Verity's mind like a Pacific Northwest tree octopus clings to a branch as she grabbed the rail of the nearest fire escape and jumped off the warehouse roof. By swinging hand over hand, she was able to make it to a low enough point to let her safely drop down to the brick courtyard attached to the Nest. She landed harder than she would have liked, still too distracted by Liam's call to balance herself right. Pain shot up her heels and into her calves as her legs protested the impact. "Walk it off," she muttered, and straightened, starting toward the slaughterhouse door. The pain lingered for the first few steps, but then faded, except for a few distant grumbles that would probably be bruises in the morning. There was a reason she bought Tiger Balm in bulk. "Uncle Mike?" She looked around before cupping her hands and shouting, "Liam? If you're here, we need to talk!"
Istas	"They are not present." Istas said from behind Verity. The human whirled around and seemed surprised to find Istas standing less than two feet away, her head cocked to the side, a quizzical expression in her dark brown eyes.
Verity	Verity was surprised. And unnerved. As adorable as Istas was in her gothic Lolita gear, she was still a waheela. She took a step back. "Personal space, Istas, remember? We've talked about this." Finding out where people were could wait another moment. Istas was a coworker, a friend, and someone Verity was perfectly happy to share a converted warehouse with. Sometimes, she was also a giant, man-eating wolf-bear from the primal heart of humanity's nightmares. Verity liked her a lot, but having her stand too close still reminded her reptile hindbrain that part of Istas would always view her as prey.
Istas	"My apologies." Istas also took a step back, creating an acceptable bubble of emptiness between them and saw Verity visibly relax. "Your not-relation and Ryan are currently not present." "Where are they? And Liam?" "They said we required provisions, and Ryan wanted to inform Kitty that we would be accessible via telephone only for the duration of the crisis. Liam is out scouting the area and looking for likely places to lay traps and ambushes for our enemies." Istas suddenly smiled, showing teeth that were too sharp to be entirely human. "I am very pleased that we will be staying here. It makes Ryan feel better, and increases the potential for carnage."
Verity	"Oh, trust me, the potential for carnage is very high right now," Verity muttered. Then she paused, an unpleasant thought striking her now that Istas had mentioned provisions. "Uh, Istas? Not to be indelicate or anything, but what is it that you, you know, eat?"
Istas	"I can eat all types of human food, although I am very fond of pizza and chicken wings. They're crunchy." "Oh, good--" But Istas wasn't done. "I am also fond of alley cats, small dogs, and urban rodents. I make an excellent rat casserole. Ryan says I am a natural." Istas perked up. "Would you like me to prepare dinner?"
Verity	"Nooooooo," Verity said, planning any number of ways to keep Istas out of the kitchen. "But there are some people I think you need to meet before we do anything else." There were some people living here that Istas needed to know in no uncertain terms were not food.
Aeslin Mice	Since moving in, the Aeslin mice had been busy. Their raiding parties had returned with several dead rats and a coatl - a feathered snake four feet long. It was probably a tohil, one of the smaller, less venomous varieties of feathered serpent, judging by the color of its plumage. The mice had been in the process of skinning the thing when Istas and Verity arrived, and Verity didn't feel like interrupting dinner preparations to find out. The entire colony stopped their preparations for the moving feast, and a sea of tiny heads turned in their direction, tiny black eyes glittering in the overhead light. More heads poked out of the walls and the converted Barbie house - which was now surrounded with smaller lean-tos and half-built ceremonial buildings. This wasn't just a feast. It was a barn raising, Aeslin style. "HAIL!" the mice greeted, with one voice.
Istas	Istas jumped and took a step closer to Verity. "There are mice," she said, a little unsteady.
Verity	This time, Verity didn't remind her about personal space. It was a fairly common reaction to meeting Aeslin for the first time. "Yeah. I don't want you to eat them, so it seemed to me that introductions were in order," she explained. Istas was giving Verity a sidelong look, expression clearly implying that the human might well be insane. Verity'd been seeing that face since she was old enough to get sent home from kindergarten for telling fibs. (To their credit, her parents had grounded her, not for telling fibs - she hadn't - but for being stupid enough to tell her teacher about the time Grandma Alice had shot the Boob Fairy with a load of buckshot. All the teacher heard was that things were taken care of. And they were. She'd become a much better liar after that.)
Istas	"The mice are talking," said Istas patiently, in case Verity had somehow failed to notice.
Aeslin Mice	"True," Verity agreed. "Colony, this is Istas." "HAIL ISTAS!" declared the mice.
Istas	Istas jumped again. Then she turned and glared at Verity like this was all an elaborate trick that the human was staging for her benefit. "Make them stop talking," she demanded.
Verity	Verity snorted at the very idea. "I can't. No one can. If I had that power, my sex life would be a lot less complicated." She decided to take mercy on her - always show mercy to the apex predators when possible - and cleared her throat before saying, "In the interests of maintaining local harmony, I invoke Conversation for Cake." The mice cheered once before going eerily silent. Istas stepped closer still, until Verity could feel the heat of her skin. She managed not to step away and felt very proud of herself for that.
Aeslin Priest	A small figure appeared on one of the wooden paths winding around the former Barbie Dream House. It made its slow way up to the very top of the structure, leaning heavily on its staff with every step. Verity didn't offer to help. The High Priest was proud. If he hadn't been, he would already have stepped down, letting a younger, more enthusiastic mouse take his place. She wouldn't shame him by acting like he couldn't make the walk on his own. When he reached the top of the house, he stopped, coiling his tail tightly around his feet as he turned to face us. He kept hold of his kitten bone staff, letting it support his weight. His whiskers were forward, signaling his curiosity. "What do you wish, O Priestess?" he squeaked.
Verity	"Hello, my friend," Verity said with a fond smile. She indicated Istas. "This is Istas, of the waheela. She'll be staying with us here while we take care of things. I wanted her to meet the colony."
Aeslin Priest	"Before there could be Bad Decisions," said the High Priest knowingly. He bowed to Istas. "Milady Carnivore. Welcome to our Home." The other mice took this as an invitation to cheer. The High Priest silenced them all with a stern glare, and one rap of his kitten bone staff against the roof. He might be old, but he still ruled his people with an iron paw.
Istas	Istas, meanwhile, was looking at him with unabashed curiosity. "You are talking mice,” she said. “Mice are not meant to talk."
Aeslin Priest	"Yet talk we do," said the High Priest. "Truly, you are wise, to approach such a complicated theological question on your very first introduction." He rapped his staff again. This time it was a cue, and the colony's cheering went unabated.
Verity	"They're hyper-religious," Verity explained to Istas in an undertone. "They worship my family."
Istas	"Oh," said Istas, looking puzzled. She looked at the High Priest. "If you worship her, what do you do with me?"
Aeslin Priest	"We ask that you do not eat us, Milady Carnivore, and offer to share the spoils of our hunt with you," said the High Priest. "We will feast well this night, on rat and bat and feathered snake."
Istas	"I would like that," said Istas. "Do you always talk?"
Aeslin Priest	Sadly," Verity muttered. Both cryptids ignored her, the High Priest pressing his whiskers forward again. "You are truly a lover of complex theological debate," he said, sounding delighted. "We will enjoy your company."
Verity	"As long as that company doesn't involve eating my family’s mice," Verity said, to get them back on message. "Istas, please don't eat my mice. They're very important to me, and besides, it's rude to eat anything you've been introduced to."
Istas	Istas pondered this for a moment before she said, "I will not eat any mouse that speaks to me, or that is caught within this room." "Thank you," Verity said. "May I stay here and partake of the dead rats which they have offered me?"
Verity	Verity grimaced. "Maybe." She looked to the High Priest. "Istas is not human, and does not share my dietary restrictions. If she dines with you, will you make this a religious ritual? Because I won't eat rat for you, no matter how important you think it is." It was important to set boundaries with the intelligent mice that worshipped your family.
Aeslin Priest	The High Priest slicked his ears back in evident amusement. "No, Priestess," he said. "This will be the Feast of the Waheela With Religious Questions, and will be celebrated only when a waheela is present to dine with us."
Verity	Verity nodded. "In that case, yes, Istas, you can stay and eat dead rats with the mice."
Istas	Istas beamed, evidently delighted. "Perhaps I can help with the gutting!" General cheers, and the sound of Istas' laughter, followed Verity out of the room. Her life was deeply weird and that didn't even account for the murderous third cousin here for a genocide.
Verity	With Mike and Ryan off getting supplies, Liam getting a lay of the land, and Istas eating dinner with the mice, there wasn't much that Verity could do with herself. She went to the office she and Liam had claimed as a temporary bedroom and finished unpacking her weapons, lining them up along the walls until she stopped feeling quite so transitory. A Price girl can live anywhere as long as she has her boots, her knives, and her guns. That was a lesson they'd picked up from her great-grandmother, Frances Healy, but near as she could tell, it had been true for every generation of their family since the dawn of time. Their last name might have changed, but their essential nature had always remained the same. Even she could only spend so much time fussing with the placement of ammo boxes and throwing knives. Once that was over, it was time to turn to the much less pleasant of her planned chores: making some calls. Not every cryptid has a telephone, or wanted one, but all smart urban cryptids are plugged into the local gossip network. The bogeys and the dragons knew about the impending purge. That was a start; between them, they had connections to two thirds of the city's cryptid population. With a few calls, Verity was able to tip off the harpies - for the aerial cryptids - and the nixies - for the aquatic ones. She couldn't reach any of the gorgons in her contact list, but hopefully between Carol and Joe, they'd hear what was coming. She was trying to figure out what to do with herself next when her phone rang. She jumped before checking the readout - it was a blocked number, which meant Sarah - and answering. "Hello?"
Sarah	"I thought you were going to turn the Internet on." Sarah sounded peevish. "You haven't checked in, you haven't been online, and I was starting to worry."
Verity	Verity sighed. "Hello Sarah," she said into the phone. "Mom put you up to this, didn't she?" She loved having a close family. She did. But sometimes a little distance wouldn't hurt.
Sarah	"Your father, actually, but it's still true. I hadn't heard from you since your moving to Baltimore text, the Covenant's in town, I was worried. Then I thought, 'Wait, there are these magical pocket telepathy machines that we all carry,' and I dialed your phone. Ta-da." The last was delivered, not with a flourish, but in a dust-dry deadpan.
Verity	"You're a real comedian, Sarah." Verity produced a throwing knife from inside her shirt and flicked it at the nearest dart board. It hit a little left of center. "So, you want the good news or the bad news?" "Start with the good, I could use a distraction." "Uncle Mike's here from Chicago." Verity had to hold the phone away from her ear to keep her cousin's delighted squeal from piercing her eardrum. "Sarah! Volume!"
Sarah	"Sorry! Sorry sorry, but tell Uncle Mike I say hi, okay?" Sarah's grin was audible over the phone. "So, what's the bad news? Besides that there probably won't be time for me to come see him and have him cook me dinner what with the fucking Covenant in town ruining everything." The fact that he wouldn't have even been in town if it hadn't been for the Covenant wasn't important.
Verity	"There are three Covenant representatives in town. I should call Dad to get him to run dossiers on them." That would mean telling him who they were, and that would mean telling him that they were up against family. She'd have to do it eventually, but it didn't mean she was looking forward to it. "Two of them, I didn't recognize their names. They're not from any Covenant family I know."
Sarah	"Uh-huh," said Sarah slowly, previous excitement turning to dread. "Why do I get the feeling that behind door number three is something that's going to explain your sudden radio silence?" "The third is Margaret Healy." There was a long moment of awed silence before Sarah said, "Wow. When you decide to get into a bad situation, you don't mess around, like, at all. Your maybe-rehabbed Covenant friend is totally hanging out with your evil cousin."
Verity	"She's not necessarily evil. Just misguided." "I'm on her magical hunter 'kill it on sight' list, so I think I get to call her evil if I want to," Sarah countered. Verity sighed, but didn't argue. She had a point. According to the family record, there was a time when the Healys were the pride of the Covenant of St. George. They were faithful, they were devout, they bred like rabbits, and once they were aimed at a target, they killed without hesitation. They were the perfect monster hunting assassins. Dozens of Verity's ancestors were canonized in the annals of the Covenant, heroes and heroines of the war they fought on mankind’s behalf. It was why so many of the cryptids still regarded her family with suspicion and even downright hatred. It wasn't until Verity's maternal great-great-grandfather came along that any of the Healys questioned the party line - and when they decided to start asking questions, they did it the way the Healys had been doing things for centuries: enthusiastically, and with suicidal levels of commitment. Sometimes Verity wondered what the hell Great-Great-Grandpa Alexander was thinking. Every other defector she knew of was motivated by something, love or death or a great epiphany in the field that changed everything. Great-Great-Grandpa did some research. That was all. He was trying to learn better ways to kill monsters, and what he found was something entirely different. He researched further, and when he didn't like the things he found, he did more research. And then he not only threw away everything he'd ever worked for, he convinced his wife to do the same thing. The Healys might be the only people in history to defect from their religious order not over a point of faith, but over footnotes. Verity's great-great-grandparents had defected, but they'd left behind their parents, siblings, and even their oldest two children. And when they'd fled, they'd taken all the honor the family had accrued up until that point, leaving behind confusion, betrayal, and furious hatred.
Sarah	Sarah's voice brought Verity out of the family history and back into the present. "You realize this means they suspect you're here."
Verity	"What?" Verity shook my head vigorously, not caring that she couldn't see me. "Dominic didn't tell them. If he had, they would have taken me already."
Sarah	"He didn't tell them, but they suspect something. The Healys haven't been in the Covenant's good graces since the defection," Sarah pointed out with inexorable logic. "So why would they send one on this kind of mission, unless they wanted her to look for signs that the family was still around?"
Verity	"You sure do know how to make a girl feel safe," Verity muttered.
Sarah	"I don't want you to feel safe," Sarah said. "I want you to stay alive." Her alarm beeped behind her. "Okay, I need to get to class - do you want to come by my hotel tonight? Bring Liam. We can talk about what to do next, order too much room service, and try not to freak out."
Verity	"It's a date," Verity said and hung up. She could hear some people moving around downstairs; sounded like someone had finally come home. Good. It was time to put together what little they knew and see if they could come up with a plan a little better than 'don't get dead.'