Chapter 5
Caitlyn had once spread an entire map of the Undercity across her bedroom floor, a web of meticulously drawn streets, alleyways, and hidden places. Vi had seen it before, and even she couldn’t help but admire how precise it was.
Now, the map had been moved to Caitlyn’s office. No one could stop her anymore, and Vi couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief, not having to look at it every night. But there was a new issue: Caitlyn's obsession.
Vi understood the feeling of seeking vengeance for the dead all too well. She had once burned with anger, her heart alight with rage after the loss of her parents. At just ten years old, she had sworn to Vander that she would make those responsible pay.
Vander had always tried to temper her fury, steering her toward a more righteous path, even when she was determined to make mistakes. Though Vi’s hatred for Enforcers had never faded, she’d come to realize that not every one of them deserved to die.
In some ways, Caitlyn’s desire for revenge after her mother’s death mirrored Vi’s own past. Vi understood the longing, the need to bring the people responsible to justice.
But the real problem lay in who Caitlyn was hunting.
The wanted poster caught Vi off guard the first time she saw it. Powder’s face stared back at her, twisted and manic, eyes wild in a way that made her seem almost unrecognizable. It looked as though the girl she once knew had become something else entirely.
Vi had stood there for far longer than she intended, staring at the image before Caitlyn noticed. When she did, their eyes met, but neither spoke of it. There was a silent understanding between them: they wouldn’t discuss it. Caitlyn would go to work as the new Sheriff, leaving her obsession with Jinx behind when she came home other than the map in the office. Vi didn’t want to hear about the manhunts, the reports, the explosions, or the neon graffiti.
But she liked to hear whenever Caitlyn got a lead. Whether it was an explosion or neon graffiti, hearing reports told Vi that wherever she was, Powder was alive.
She watched as Caitlyn’s pursuit turned into an obsession. Her office became a mess of her new fixation, marks filling the map of places Jinx had been sighted. Part of Vi was convinced that the thought of getting vengeance was the only thing pushing Caitlyn forward.
It haunted Vi’s dreams. The woman who had saved her from Stillwater against the girl she once called her baby sister. Both fighting to the death, both willing to kill the other, and Vi stuck in the middle unsure of who to help. She jolted awake at night with Powder’s name on the tip of her tongue, nearly always rousing Caitlyn with the violent way she jolted up.
Vi was in no position to ask Caitlyn to stop. She wasn’t sure if she could ask Caitlyn to spare Jinx her life. She’d ask for incarceration if she didn’t know what that meant.
She thought of little Powder in Stillwater and felt sick. The girl that had once been her sister wouldn’t have survived, and that was the entire reason Vi gave herself up in the first place.
Jinx might insist that Powder was gone, but Vi had seen at their first reunion that her little sister was still right there from the way she clung to her. Vi had wanted to tell her that whatever she had done while she was locked up didn’t matter. She wanted to apologize profusely for what she had done the last time they were together. She wanted to hold her sister close and promise that it was going to be them against the world just as it had always been.
Vi had been prepared to do all of it too. All of the pain and death that Jinx had caused was nothing because Vi was convinced her sister did what she needed to in order to survive. Her mind told her that there wasn’t any way the girl who cried when she stepped on bugs had grown into a girl who could kill without flinching.
But the truth felt like a punch to the gut. Vi felt like a coward. A traitor. She was a failure. Perhaps, she thought, she had always been the jinx.
The worst part was that she didn’t hate Jinx. She should. She knew she should, but she didn’t. Even though Jinx’s face had changed, her eyes a sickening shade of pink, it was still the same face Vi had kissed, the same face she had wiped tears from and pressed against her own.
Vi had been angry at so many things in her life but she didn’t think she had it in herself to hate her sister.
Her parents told her to look out for Powder. Vander did too. Powder had relied on her and Vi had failed. She hadn’t been able to save her. If Vi hadn’t left, if she had managed to contain her anger until they were safe, she’d at least still have her sister.
She wasn’t sure what she’d have done. She was tired of being an orphan and the one that people replied on, but those were the only constants in her life that kept her moving forward. She’d try to be the leader that Vander wanted her to be, and the sister that Powder deserved, and maybe she could have cobbled together some sense of stability for the two of them.
But it was all just a dream.
An idealized dream that would never come true.
The soft tinkling of metal caught Vi off guard, and her first instinct was to press her back against the nearest wall, making herself as small as possible.
It was the sound of a box of jewelry spilling to the floor, a cascade of rings, necklaces, and bracelets scattering across the ground. Jewelry wasn’t a baton. It wasn’t a fist. But Vi knew from experience how much even a single ring could hurt when it struck flesh.
They had been in Caitlyn’s room, and she had knocked the box over to get something. Caitlyn was already stooping down to collect the pieces into her hand when she glanced over at Vi, who couldn’t help but push herself back at the noise.
“Vi?” Caitlyn paused, half a hand of jewelry cupped in her palm. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Vi replied immediately. She was fine. Caitlyn was an Enforcer but she wasn’t in Stillwater, and the only weapon that Caitlyn had close was her gun. “Just… startled.”
Caitlyn squinted at her but nodded and turned her attention back to the box. Vi forced herself forward, ignoring the cold feeling creeping up her spine at exposing her back. She crouched down beside Caitlyn and started to collect the expensive pieces up into her hand to dump them back in the box.
When the lid was finally back on, a soft touch brushed her shoulder. The unexpected contact sent a jolt of panic through her, and she recoiled sharply, nearly tripping over her own feet as she stood too quickly. The urge to lash out, a reflex she couldn’t quite suppress, coiled tightly in her chest.
“Vi?” Caitlyn peered up at her from where she was still kneeling on the ground, hand still hovering out.
Vi took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to steady her racing heart. “Sorry,” she muttered, the word rough, almost reluctant.
There was a brief silence, Caitlyn pausing as if uncertain how to respond. Then, in the quietest voice, Caitlyn said, “Don’t be sorry.”
It was such a stark contrast to the days in Stillwater, when Vi had no choice but to apologize for every slip, every misstep, every moment she was deemed to be nothing more than a burden. Back then, the guards made her apologize for being a waste of space, for taking up air that could have been used by someone else. The weight of those words had once broken her down, but now, they felt like a distant, hollow echo.
“Okay,” Vi replied softly, her voice rough around the edges as she blinked away the sudden sting behind her eyes.
Vi used to punch the cement walls of her cell until her knuckles bled. The pain would shoot up her arm, but it was nothing compared to the anger that boiled inside her. And in those moments, she could almost hear Vander’s voice in her ear, calling her Violent as the blood rolled down her fingers.
Vi did a lot of things that he would have scolded her for. She acted out until she had to be put down, she started fights, and she bled far more than any human could.
She could hear his voice in her head. She’d play back conversations they’d had, and all the lectures he had given her. She thought of the weight of his disappointment but also the way he’d clap her on the back so hard she’d stumble when he was proud.
Vander had been there for her when no one else was, watching out for her, loving her, raising her like his own. His last request to her was simple: Take care of Powder.
And she failed.
Vi’s throat tightened as the guilt washed over her, thick and suffocating. She longed to apologize to him, to plead for his forgiveness, to feel the familiar strength of his arms pulling her close as she cried. She could still remember how safe she felt in his embrace, how he’d always known exactly what to say to calm her when everything felt like it was falling apart.
She’d thought he might have told her that she could still fulfill his last request. Every lecture about calling Powder a jinx filtered through her mind. She remembered Vander telling her that Powder was her sister and that even if she made mistakes, that didn’t mean they should turn on each other. Even when Vi would call her frustrating and annoying.
“Do you love her?” Vander would ask, his tone quiet but steady.
Vi had never hesitated to answer. Yes, of course she loved her.
“Then nothing else matters,” he would say. “If you love her, you love all of her—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Life can take things from us too soon, Vi. Don’t let your short-term feelings get in the way of that.”
His words had stuck with her, as they always did, even when she fought with Powder. Vi still remembered the nights when, despite the arguments and the distance between them, Powder would crawl into her bed and whisper apologies into her shirt. Even if it wasn’t always her fault, Powder would apologize for things she didn’t even fully understand.
Vi could never bring herself to push her away. She couldn’t. Even when she felt the anger rise, she remembered what Vander had said. Powder was her sister. And that meant everything.
But despite everything, Vi had failed her. She had failed Vander. And now, the guilt of that failure festered inside her, bottled up tight in her chest, until it leaked out in violent bursts—bloody knuckles against cold stone, a release that never seemed to be enough.
Jinx had been too quiet for too long.
There hadn’t been a single sighting of her in weeks. No explosions, no graffiti, not even the usual chaos she’d leave behind. The silence only added to Caitlyn’s frustration. Vi often found her standing in her office, staring at the sprawling board covered in Jinx sightings, as if she could will a confrontation into existence simply by focusing on it.
“She’s been gone too long,” Caitlyn muttered, her gaze flicking over the map, her fingers tapping lightly against the surface. “And when she does come back, it’s going to be worse than before.”
Vi’s eyes lingered on Caitlyn for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The words she wanted to say didn’t feel right, but they came out anyway. “Maybe it’s a good thing,” she said quietly, her voice hesitant. “Maybe she’s just... laying low for once.”
Caitlyn’s eyes snapped toward her, and for a moment, there was a coldness there that Vi didn’t recognize. "You really think she'd stop just because there's no chaos? You know her better than that."
The truth stung more than Vi cared to admit. But the lack of appearances worried her. What if she was hurt? Or worse? Vi’s stomach twisted at the thought.
“She’s my sister,” Vi muttered, feeling the weight of her words like an anchor pulling her down. “But I don’t want to get in your way.”
Caitlyn’s gaze softened, but there was still an unyielding determination in her eyes. “This isn’t about getting in my way, Vi,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “She’s dangerous. She needs to be stopped.”
Vi swallowed hard. She knew Caitlyn was right. Jinx had crossed lines that couldn’t be uncrossed, done things that couldn’t be overlooked. Things that made it hard for Vi to hold onto the sister she once knew. “I know,” Vi replied quietly, her voice tight with the weight of unspoken guilt. “I know she’s done things... unforgivable things.” The words were a bitter pill. “I just don’t know how I feel about her anymore,” she admitted.
Caitlyn didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just looked at Vi, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, she spoke quietly, but with an edge. “You can’t protect her from what she’s done, Vi. We both know she’s not the sister you want her to be anymore.”
“I just... I don’t know if I’m ready to let go,” Vi whispered, more to herself than Caitlyn. "Even if she’s gone... even if she’s not the same... she’s still my sister."
Caitlyn paused, as if considering Vi’s words, but ultimately, she turned back to the board, a grim determination setting in. "And that’s why I’m going after her. Because no one else will."
Vi nodded, though it felt like something was breaking inside her. Caitlyn had her reasons that Vi couldn’t ignore.
She didn’t know how to feel about Jinx anymore.
She didn’t know how to feel about anything anymore.
Vi stood in Caitlyn’s office, watching her pore over the map of the Undercity, her eyes glued to the pins marking Jinx’s last known locations. It had consumed her, and it was wearing her down.
“Cait,” Vi finally said, trying to keep her voice calm despite the frustration bubbling inside her. “You need to take a break. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep going like this.”
Caitlyn didn’t even look up from the map. Her focus was unwavering as her finger traced one of the red lines, following Jinx’s trail. “I can’t stop until she’s found,” Caitlyn replied, her tone steady but cold. “Not when she’s still out there, causing destruction.”
Vi crossed her arms over her chest, her frustration deepening. Jinx hadn’t been sighted in two weeks. “I get it. I really do. But you’re obsessing over this. You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I am thinking clearly,” Caitlyn snapped, finally turning to face her. Her eyes were hard, intense. “I have to find her. For my mother.”
Vi’s jaw clenched. The need for vengeance was consuming Caitlyn, just like the anger had consumed Vi all those years ago.
“Caitlyn,” Vi said, her voice softening, though there was a strain beneath the words. “You can’t keep doing this. You’re pushing yourself too hard. What happens when you’ve worn yourself thin? What then?”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed, and the room seemed to grow colder. A dangerous stillness settled over her as she met Vi’s gaze. “Are you telling me to stop? Is that it, Vi?” Caitlyn’s voice was low, almost menacing. “Are you really saying that you don’t want us to find her?”
The accusation hit Vi like a slap to the face. Her heart started racing, her hands instinctively balling into fists at her sides. She hadn’t expected Caitlyn to accuse her of something like that.
“What?” Vi’s voice cracked with anger, her temper flaring instantly. “You think I don’t want her found? After everything she’s done?”
Caitlyn stood her ground, her expression unreadable but unwavering, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. “I’m asking if you’ve been to the Undercity yourself, looking for her. Have you gone out there? That stab wound you got—why were you down there? Were you looking for her?”
Vi’s blood boiled at the question. She stepped closer, disbelief and fury mixing on her face. “How dare you accuse me of that,” she growled, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles ached. “You think I’d let her hurt anyone else? After everything she’s done?” Her voice rose, the anger spilling out of her. “You really think I want her to get away with what she’s done?”
Caitlyn didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained cold, her voice steady. “Then what is it, Vi? Why do you keep telling me to stop? Do you want to protect her?”
The words felt like a punch to the gut. The truth, raw and painful, surged to the surface, and Vi couldn’t hold it in any longer. “No, Caitlyn,” she spat, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to protect her. But I want you to stop before you lose yourself in this.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the tension between them palpable. Vi’s heart was still racing, her chest tight with a mixture of anger and frustration. Caitlyn’s jaw was clenched, her eyes burning with the same cold determination that had gotten them both this far.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Caitlyn finally said, her voice low and unwavering, the conviction in her words making it clear she wouldn’t back down.
Vi’s hands shook, but she didn’t back down either. “Then do it the right way. Not this... this obsession. You’re going to burn yourself out, Cait.”
But Caitlyn didn’t acknowledge the concern. She simply turned back to the map, her eyes hard again as if the conversation was over. The finality of her actions was unmistakable.
Vi stood there for a long moment, feeling the space between them grow, feeling the trust they’d once shared slip away like sand through her fingers. There was nothing more to say. Nothing more she could do.
With a frustrated glance, Vi turned and stormed out of the office.
She needed to punch something.
It was something like a cycle.
Caitlyn would throw herself into the hunt, eyes wild and obsessive, pushing herself to the brink. Vi would watch it happen, the subtle shift in Caitlyn's demeanor, the way she would ignore her own exhaustion in favor of one more lead, one more night spent trying to catch Jinx. Vi would try to intervene, her voice strained with frustration, telling Caitlyn to slow down, to rest, to take a break before she lost herself completely. But Caitlyn would bristle, her temper flaring, and they'd argue.
They’d spiral, and Vi, weary of the back-and-forth, would eventually walk away. Her steps heavy with resentment, her mind racing, replaying every word spoken and every word left unsaid.
And then, silence. A thick, suffocating silence that filled the space they once shared so easily. Neither of them would speak for hours. Caitlyn would retreat to her office, the map of Jinx’s movements ever-present before her, and Vi would shut herself away, the weight of their words still heavy on her chest.
But neither of them could stay angry for long.
The hours would stretch on, the distance between them growing wider with each passing minute. Eventually, one of them—usually Caitlyn, though Vi would never admit how much she secretly waited for it—would reach out. No grand gestures, no dramatic apologies. Just something small, a quiet action. Caitlyn would slip into their bed after what felt like a lifetime of silence, her touch tentative, almost afraid.
Vi would feel the mattress shift beneath her, a soft breath at her back, and then, the whisper: “I’m sorry.”
It was always soft as if Caitlyn feared Vi’s anger might flare up again if the words weren’t just right. But Vi would never stay distant. She would roll over, always unable to resist. Their eyes would meet in the dim light, Caitlyn’s expression tight with regret, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.
Without a word, Vi would pull Caitlyn closer, her arms wrapping around her like they were the only thing left that made sense. There would be no more anger in that moment, just the quiet comfort of familiarity.
It happened over and over, the same cycle. The quiet of Jinx’s absence gnawed at Caitlyn, feeding her paranoia, and Vi felt like she was trapped in an endless loop.
Then, one day, their fight reached a breaking point. With voices raised, the door swung open unexpectedly. Tobias stepped into the room, his face a mixture of concern and surprise.
Vi’s stomach dropped. She had hoped their arguments would stay private, just between her and Caitlyn.
“Is everything alright here?” Tobias’s voice was low, commanding, the kind of tone that only came with authority.
A wave of panic swept over Vi. She hadn’t expected him to step in, to cut through the tension. Despite his apology for the past, Vi still couldn’t shake the memory of how Tobias had once accused her of taking advantage of Caitlyn, of being a bad influence on her.
Caitlyn didn’t even blink. She stared at Vi, her gaze daring her to say something else. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though the bite in her voice had vanished.
Instinctively, Vi made a retort, and Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed, snapping back at her with words that stung deeper than Vi cared to admit.
Then Tobias stepped forward, his voice quiet but full of authority. “Enough.”
Vi flinched. It was the first time Tobias had ever raised his voice in such a way, the first time he’d addressed them like that. She was surprised to see it aimed at Caitlyn, too.
Caitlyn stiffened, taken aback. Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction, her expression wary, her lips pressed into a tight line. The room seemed to freeze, the tension hanging thick in the air.
“Enough,” Tobias repeated, his gaze shifting between them, unyielding. “This… this isn’t how we’re going to handle things. Not anymore.”
Vi swallowed hard, her throat tight with something she couldn’t name. The words were still there, ready to lash out, but she stayed quiet. Tobias had never been so forceful before, and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit. It was a far cry from the grief-stricken man she had to pull from his stupor.
Caitlyn opened her mouth, probably to argue, but Tobias raised a hand to silence her. There was no malice in the motion, just a calm, undeniable weight to it.
"I’ve been watching this for days," Tobias said, his voice quieter now, but still firm. "The two of you, pushing each other to breaking points." His eyes softened, but the edge was still there. "I understand the frustration, I do. I understand why you’re doing this, both of you. But you’re not listening to each other anymore. You’re hurting each other."
Vi wanted to argue but she couldn’t. He was right. They’d been hurting each other for weeks maybe. The tension had built up until it felt like there was no room to breathe between them.
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t speak. She seemed to be holding herself together with sheer will.
"I’m not saying you don’t have reasons to be angry," Tobias continued, his voice softening but still unwavering. "But this... this isn’t helping anyone." He stepped forward, his gaze moving between them both. "You’re both drowning in your own frustration, and I can see it. And it’s tearing you apart."
Vi knew he was right, but hearing him say it out loud made something inside her twist. She wasn’t just angry with Caitlyn anymore—she was angry at herself, for letting it go on this long. For not knowing how to fix it.
“I’ve seen both of you suffer,” Tobias said quietly, his tone gentler. “And I’m not going to sit here and watch you destroy each other over something neither of you can control.” He paused, his gaze shifting to Caitlyn. For the first time, his eyes softened even more. “Caitlyn, you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You’re too close to the edge.”
Caitlyn stiffened at his words but said nothing. Her fists clenched, and her gaze dropped to the floor. For a long moment, they stood there, caught in the suffocating tension neither of them seemed to know how to break.
"I know what you’re both going through," Tobias added. "But you need each other. You can’t keep going like this."
Vi shifted uncomfortably. Tobias’s tone reminded her so much of Vander.
Tobias exhaled slowly, as though steeling himself for something, before speaking again, quieter but with the weight of finality in his words.
“You need to step back for a while,” he said. “All of you. Take a breath. Stop pushing. Let things settle, and figure out what’s really at the heart of this. Right now, you’re just chasing shadows.”
Vi stared at the floor, her heart heavy.
“Do you understand?” Tobias’s voice was soft but still firm.
Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she looked at Vi, her eyes searching, her expression tired. After what felt like an eternity, she finally nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. "I understand," she said, her voice quiet.
Tobias gave them both one last look before stepping back, his expression softening with a kind of reluctant empathy. "I’m not asking you to forgive each other overnight," he said. "But I’m asking you to listen. To really listen." He glanced at Caitlyn and then Vi. "And to give each other space to breathe."
Vi opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Tobias raised a hand. "No more arguing for tonight. Just... take a break. We’ll talk tomorrow."
And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving them both in the tense quiet.
Part of Vi thought he’d turn on her. She thought he would pin everything on her, so when he didn’t, she was left prepared for another fight that didn’t happen.
Caitlyn shifted uncomfortably, her hands moving to tug at the hem of her sleeve, as if she could physically hold herself together that way. The silence between them was suffocating before Caitlyn sighed.
"I know I’ve been pushing. I know I’ve been—" she paused, swallowing as if the next words were too heavy, "—too much."
Vi wanted to tell her she wasn’t too much, that Caitlyn was just trying to find her footing, but somehow the words still wouldn’t come. Instead, she took a deep breath, her fists unconsciously clenching at her sides. “I don’t want to keep fighting,” Vi said, the words coming out rough. "I just... don’t know how to help you when you push me away."
Caitlyn flinched. With her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I’m sorry, Vi. For everything. For the way I’ve been... for everything you’ve been trying to carry for me." Her eyes flickered to the floor, and then back up at Vi. "I know you’re carrying a lot, too."
Vi didn’t know what to do with the anger in her so she stamped it down and simply nodded. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. "I don’t know what I want, either." She let out a breath, one that felt like it came from deep inside her. "I guess I just... want to stop being so angry. Want things to... just go back to being simple again. But I don’t think they ever will, will they?"
Vi’s chest tightened at the question. For a moment, she just stared at Caitlyn, unsure how to answer. Things would never go back to the way they were. They were both changed, shaped by the grief and the loss. There was no undoing it, no reversing the pain they’d both carried for so long. Vi had barely begun to understand Caitlyn before everything fell apart.
“I don’t know,” Vi murmured.
Caitlyn’s shoulders slumped, and she reached up to rub at her face before glancing at the tangle of pins on the map.
“What am I doing?” she breathed, more to herself than Vi.
Vi shuffled forward, closing the distance between them. It was hard to stay angry when the other person wasn’t. Her mind drifted to her past with Powder and the way their fights always ended, always in some form of reconciliation.
“I… care about you, Cupcake,” Vi said quietly. “I just want to help.”
Caitlyn stared at the floor, her breath hitching. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Vi finally dared to wrap her arms around Caitlyn from behind so that their eyes didn’t have to meet. “You’re grieving.”
“I feel very out of control of my life,” Caitlyn mumbled. After a moment, she leaned her weight back, pressing against Vi. “I’m sorry that I’m so angry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for being angry,” Vi told her. “We’ve been through a lot of shit. We’re both allowed to be angry. But we can’t keep holding it against each other. We’re not enemies.”
Caitlyn took a deep breath, tipping her head back to rest on Vi’s shoulder. Vi pressed their cheeks together.
They both focused on just breathing for a moment. The anger drained and left Vi feeling empty and hollow.
“You’re very important to me,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice small but steady. Her hand reached up, lightly touching Vi’s wrist, as if she was trying to anchor herself to the moment, to Vi. “Thank you for staying.”
Vi wished she could fold Caitlyn up into a little ball and tuck her away in her chest to protect her. She wanted to be able to keep safe the only thing she had left.
Instead, Vi pressed her nose against the soft curve of Caitlyn’s shoulder and, in the quiet space between them, she finally let the words that had been locked away for so long slip free. “I love you, Cupcake.”
There was a sharp stillness, a breath held. Caitlyn stiffened in her grip, and for a split second, panic gripped Vi’s heart. She didn’t know how to take it back, didn’t know how to undo what she’d just said.
Without warning, Caitlyn twisted to face her, her hands resting on Vi’s shoulders as she searched her face.
“Tell me again,” Caitlyn demanded, her voice quiet but full of urgency.
Vi took a shaky breath before obeying. “I love you.”
“Do you mean that?” Caitlyn asked.
“I do.”
“Even though I’m too much?” Caitlyn pushed softly.
“You’re never too much for me,” Vi replied.
Caitlyn’s hands trailed up Vi’s neck to cradle her face. She leaned forward to press their foreheads together and Vi felt the tension leave her body at the action.
“I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you,” Caitlyn whispered. “I love you, too.”
It had been so long since someone had told that to her. Vi felt her eyes sting.
As if sensing what she needed, Caitlyn repeated herself. “I love you, my sweet darling.”
Vi reached up to hook her fingers around Caitlyn’s wrists, holding her steady as she took a moment to just breathe.
It was hard, but Caitlyn eventually settled back a little, allowing herself to rest when Vi insisted it was time to stop for the night. In those moments, when Caitlyn started to pull away, Vi could usually put a stop to any arguments with a simple reminder: “I’m yours.” It was a gentle truth that calmed them both, a shared acknowledgment that no matter what, they were on the same side.
Jinx had been quiet for months. The usual trail of destruction that followed her seemed to have vanished. There were sightings, sure, but no bloodshed. No explosions. Vi still couldn’t quite understand the shift, but she was secretly relieved by it. Jinx was alive, she knew that for sure, but it was as if she’d just disappeared from the chaos. Vi didn’t know why, but it gave her a moment of peace she hadn’t expected.
Life had settled into a rhythm. Vi had gotten used to the quiet that had once felt so foreign to her. The hostility with Tobias had melted away, and she couldn’t help but feel surprised at how different he was. He’d found a way to integrate himself into their lives with surprising ease, even showing a gentleness toward Vi that Vi hadn’t thought him capable of. For a while, Tobias had been a reminder of all the things she’d hated, the loss, the blame, but now he was part of their circle. A change that Vi hadn’t expected, but one she welcomed.
Still, Vi felt the simmering rage deep within her, the anger she’d carried for so many years, now left without a real target. Her body had become accustomed to the adrenaline and the fighting. The old wounds on her knuckles had finally healed, the scabs falling away, and yet there was still a hollow ache left behind. It wasn’t the same.
But despite it all, despite the quiet and the restlessness that sometimes followed her like a shadow, Vi couldn’t deny that she was content. She wasn’t used to that feeling. It felt almost like a luxury, like something she had no right to experience, but there it was.
Her favorite days were probably the weekend when Caitlyn didn’t work. It had taken Tobias intervening to finally get Caitlyn to stop working around the clock. Vi could see almost instantly the weight lifted off of Caitlyn’s shoulders. She spent the first few days off barely even leaving the bed, catching up on all the sleep she had pushed past in favor of the hunt.
Vi loved those weekends. But it was the quiet moments in the library that became her sanctuary. The two of them, tucked away from the world, Caitlyn buried in books while Vi lazily sprawled on the couch beside her. There were no distractions, just the soft rustle of pages turning and the warmth of Caitlyn’s presence. Vi would rest her chin on Caitlyn’s shoulder from behind, their bodies pressed together in a way that made everything feel peaceful. When Caitlyn finished a page, Vi would tap her fingers against Caitlyn’s stomach, her way of asking for the next one.
Sometimes, Caitlyn would indulge Vi’s fascination with fantasy books. They would share their thoughts as they read, Vi muttering her opinions into Caitlyn’s ear, laughing at the stories, at themselves. Caitlyn would swat her leg with a smile, and Vi’s heart would swell with something soft and vulnerable. In those stolen moments, things felt perfect. It was a contentment Vi didn’t know how to hold on to, but she wished she could.
And then one day, as they sat in the library together, the calm was interrupted. Tobias entered, his eyes landing on them.
“Caitlyn,” he said. “There’s a little girl looking for you in the foyer. The Sheriff.”
Caitlyn straightened up. Vi huffed but moved her limbs to let Caitlyn free, reaching out to take the book from her.
“Don’t continue without me,” Caitlyn said sternly, the words softened by the kiss she pressed to Vi’s cheek.
“Wouldn’t dare peek,” Vi promised with a grin. She watched Caitlyn leave, settling back in her spot, content to wait for however long it took, hoping that Caitlyn didn’t get called into work.
When Caitlyn reappeared, there was an odd look on her face, and before Vi could ask what was wrong, Caitlyn said, “The little girl is looking for you.”
“Me?” Vi sat up. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know.” Caitlyn looked a little frustrated. “She doesn’t talk. But she knows that you’re here and is looking for you.”
Vi frowned and set the book aside as she pushed herself to her feet. “Okay. Where is she?”
Caitlyn took her to the kitchen where the little girl was waiting. The girl had been perched on a stool but clambered down when she saw Vi. She was a small thing, with a large miner's hat wobbling on her head and wide golden eyes.
“Hey,” Vi greeted a little awkwardly, unsure of why she was needed. “Caitlyn said you’re looking for me?”
The little girl didn’t respond with words. Instead, she simply extended her small hand, holding out a rolled-up piece of paper. Vi hesitated, then reached for it, her frown deepening as she took it from the girl.
Unrolling the paper, her heart sank.
It was a wanted poster. And there, in bright colors, was the familiar twisted face of Jinx.