To Love and Blood

“Morning, just these.” Kat mutters, sliding the bottle of Tylenol over the counter and to the young pimple faced cashier.

Her head is pounding, and her stomach feels like it is dying. After receiving the ‘Straight from a bad 80s movie’ threatening text, Kat had poured herself a glass of whiskey and drowned her sorrows in the bottle. Waking up feeling like a nail was being driven through her skull, Kat cursed her alarm and was tempted to smash it with a hammer.

She had gotten dressed in a comfortable dress suit and thanked the gods that her coffee maker decided to work that morning. Now she is quickly grabbing the much-needed pain reliever and an overly sugary sweet donut with icing that cracks and crumbles as she bites into it, letting the sweet flavors settle on her tongue and hoping that it won’t come back up later.

Adjusting the strap of her brown leather satchel higher on her shoulder, she takes her change from the cashier and sweeps out of the store. Wasting no time, Kat pops the lid of the pill bottle and swallows two large pills, washing them down with the now cold coffee in her hand. She prays that they work quickly.

The first thing Kat notices when she steps into the gallery is that the lights are too bright and should be shot out immediately.

The second, less dramatic, thing she notices is that Steven is looking worse for wear and is hurriedly speaking with the security guard, J.B. Quietly, Kat slinks closer, her eyes scanning Steven and trying to uncover what has changed since she saw him last night.

‘His shoulders are hunched; he's trying to hide but why?’ Kat observes, taking in the tense lines of his back and the way he keeps looking around nervously, ‘His hands are shaking, he's afraid.’ Kat realizes with a start.

“Hey Steven.” Kat approaches him slowly, as if he is a startled deer.

Despite her gentle greeting, Steven still jumps out of his skin.

Steven turns to face her, his face is wide and open, showing his panic to the world despite his efforts to conceal it. A pang of envy strikes at Kat, jealous of how open and unmasked Steven can be to the world.

‘He didn’t sleep.’ Kat notes with a frown, eyes sweeping over the deep bruising shadows below his eyes and the red edges around his brown irises.

“What's wrong?” She asks, stepping closer to Steven and lowering her voice so it is only the two of them, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steven breathes unsteadily, his hands fidgeting in a nervous habit as his eyes continue to dart around and track the movement of the people entering the building, “Yeah, I'm alright.”

“Hey Katalya!” J.B. cuts in, leaning over the security desk to get her attention, “Guess what..”

He trails off as if he is withholding a great secret, a mirthful smile teasing at the edge of his lips.

Kat fights the instinct to roll her eyes, sighing and stepping back from Steven to face the security guard, “What, JB?”

“Steven…” JB cuts off with an amused laugh, and disbelieving shake of his head that sends his chin length brown hair flying, “He thinks he's being followed! Can you imagine? Someone following little Steve?”

“What?” Kat chokes, eyes darting to Steven in a panic.

‘Crap. Crap. Crap. Did he notice me trailing him? How does he know? Fix this, I need to fix this! How?’

Kats thoughts jumble in a mess as she fights to keep her composure as she screams into the internal endless void. Of all the things she had thought of that could go wrong, she hadn't thought of this. A stupid oversight, she knows, but that doesn't change the fact that she needs to fix this and quickly.

She looks at Steven who's blushing and staring at the floor, fingers twisted tightly together and a nervous energy surrounding his whole being. It hurts, to know that she has caused this fear.

“You think you're being stalked?” Kat asks lightly, fighting the nervous tremor in her voice, “Who, uh, who do you think it is?”

Steven glares at JB and looks embarrassed as he gives Kat a false smile, dismissing, “It's probably nothing.”

Would it be better for her job if Steven let this go? Yeah, it would help her immensely. But Kat won't do that to him. She can’t let him think he’s crazy when she knows otherwise.

“No, it's not nothing.” Kat refutes him with a stern look that clearly says not to argue, she watches as more employees walk in and stare at her and Steven with curiosity.

Sighing, Kat grabs Steven's hand and pulls him further into the museum. The first day she had been hired, Kat had found a room that was exclusively used to store extra artifacts and is rarely, if ever, used by anyone. This is where Kat leads Steven.

It’s a small room, cramped by the artefacts in it, but it is quiet and has the calming effect that only artefacts untouched by time can have. Pushing Steven in, Kat follows and closes the door softly behind them before turning around and crossing her arms as she leans back on the wall, leveling Steven with a stare.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Kat demands, her concern outweighing her care for tact.

Steven is still avoiding her eyes as he seems to weigh over his words. He seems to be trying to decide whether to tell her the truth or not. Several times he opens his mouth to say something before closing it, at a loss for how to say it or even what to say. Kat waits patiently, observing him as he searches for words and giving him time to collect his thoughts.

Eventually though, he finds his voice.

“This morning, I saw a man. And… God I sound like a nutter, I must be going insane.” Steven trails off, embarrassed to tell her the next part and becoming very focused on the box of ancient text that sits idly on the shelf next to Kats shoulder.

“Hey,” Kat says softly, squeezing his shoulder and giving a reassuring smile, “I'll believe you, no matter what it is.”

Steven blushes and looks away, a touched smile chasing away the nervousness on his face.

“I saw him in my dream. The guy I saw today on the tube, he's the one from my dream.” Steven hurriedly continues as his eyes beg her to believe him, “No seriously, they look exactly the same, they are the same! Please, I know this sounds crazy but-”

“Okay.” Kat cuts in, ducking her head and meeting Steven's eyes from under her lashes.

“Okay?” Steven repeats, staring at her dumbly, “I just told you I'm being followed by a guy I saw in my dreams, and you believe me?”

Kat frowns, brow creasing, “Why wouldn't I?”

She asks it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, the most natural. It's so unfamiliar, this unwavering trust, that Steven lets out a startled laugh that fills the small room. Kat can feel her own smile grow at Steven's surprised laugh. Her face flushes as she suddenly realizes how close they are in the small storage room, if she were to just lean forward a bit….

“Ahem, well, uh it is odd, but I've heard of weirder things.” Kat jokes, ducking her head shyly and staring at where her feet stand toe to toe with Stevens as she hears her heart hammering in her ears and ignores it.

“Really?” Steven asks dubiously, his mouth twisting up with amusement.

“Believe it or not, yeah.” Kat chuckles, shoving her hands in her pockets to resist brushing away the strand of curly hair that flops into Steven's face as he shakes his head fondly. “Seriously though, I'll talk with security and see if they can at least notify me if someone weird comes in.”

“Yeah?” Steven smiles, feeling more relaxed and at ease despite the fluttering in his chest, “Thanks.”

True to her word, after walking with Steven to the gift shop and parting ways, Kat goes directly to the head of securities office and politely requests to be notified if someone weird or someone who seems to be watching Steven come in.

“You know we can't kick out every person who's a bit odd.” The security guard tells her, making her skin crawl with frustration, “Besides, if we did notify you, what good would that do? Are you going to fight everyone who looks at Mr. Grant oddly?”

Kat distinctly wants to punch this man's lights out as he looks pointedly at her arms and up and down her body. Her strength and muscle is hidden underneath, not eye catching like a bodybuilder but unnoticeable until used like that of a ballerina.

“Well I would at least know.” Kat sighs moodily, leaving out the fact that she would, in fact, fight this stalker, “Just… please?”

Kat puts on her most pleading face, a mask she has mastered. She makes her eyes wide and innocent and rolls her shoulders forward to make herself appear small and meek. She has found that, in these situations when she needs a favor and can’t get it in a more ‘fun’ way, that taking on the role of small helpless woman usually grants her the help she wants.

Just as she had hoped, the man's expression becomes sympathetic as he reluctantly agrees to page her if they see anything. Leaving the office, Kat heads to meet her first tour group of the day. It's a smaller group, just two families with young bright-eyed children and two teenagers who roll their eyes at every possible moment. Kat is surprised their eyes don't get stuck like that.

It is while she’s explaining the ancient Egyptian fertility rituals that Kats frustration finally snaps. All tour long the two teenagers, friends obviously, had been making rude comments under their breath. Kat thinks she even heard them call her old and ugly at one point.

“Now, if you two in the back would stop snickering to each other for one second, you might learn something!” Kat scolds, rounding on them and leveling them with a piercing glare that one can only develop after years of intimidating people twice her size.

The two thankfully stay quiet the rest of the tour and Kat gets through it without murdering anyone. Cheers. After saying goodbye to the last parent who stayed behind to thank her, Kat begins the walk back to the entryway and, subsequently and not at all on purpose, back to the gift shop.

Her day had been just worse and worse since waking up and Kat only wants a bit of reprieve from her frustrations. It is a problem of hers, her ability to let frustration build up and explode. In her line of work, things go wrong. Scratch that, in her life, things go wrong. And the only thing she can do is grit her teeth and bare it.

Now, she can feel the familiar buzz under her skin that tells her that she needs to find a release, and soon. Her fingers twitch at her sides, longing to feel the familiar weight of her circular blades against her palms.

Kat is just thinking about perhaps getting one of those fruit rolls the gift shop sells that Steven despises so much, when she looks up and realizes that Steven is gone. The counter is manned by someone Kat doesn’t know, and Steven is nowhere nearby. Her heart freezes as Steven's words about a man following him comes to the forefront of her mind.

Flagging down a passing security guard, Kat asks if he has seen Steven or if anybody weird had come in. The security guard shakes his head but tells her he saw Steven heading for the gods and goddess’s exhibit. Thanking him, Kat feels her worry calm a bit. After all, it is perfectly normal for Steven to look at the exhibits and fawn over the relics.

Yeah, no. This isn't normal. Steven is in the exhibit, but he isn't alone. The man, the one Kat had seen last night, is there with him. The man is looking at Steven like he’s an anomaly, Steven is staring back with trepidation and fear. Steven takes steps backwards, but the man just keeps stepping forward, crowding him.

Without a second thought, Kat marches forward, staring daggers at the man as she approaches.

“Hello, may I help you?” She asks, keeping her voice cordial though her face is anything but. Her eyes narrowed and piercing as a blade.

Subtly, Kat slides herself between Steven and the grey-haired man, forcing the man to look at her rather than Steven who shakes with fear behind her.

The man frowns like she's a pesky fly, “No thank you, I was just speaking with Mr. Grant here.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Kat gives a sharp strained smile, taking pleasure in the disgruntled expression on the man's face, “But as you can see, this is a place of business and as such, needs all of its employees at the moment.”

The man lets out a long, suffering sigh and smiles stiffly at her, holding out his hand, “I am terribly sorry for stealing Mr. Grant. I am Arthur Harrow.”

Kat stares at the offered hand for a moment, weighing her options. With a barely there, blink and you'll miss it grimace, Kat takes his hand and shakes it, “I am Katalya Menteuse, if you have any questions I am sure I can answer them for you, and Mr. Grant can resume his work.”

Harrow's hands clutch his cane tighter and for a moment Kat thinks he may whack her with it, but no such impact comes. Instead, Harrow smiles and laughs. He actually laughs! This is getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

Turning her back to Harrow, Kat looks at Steven, raising a brow and silently asking whether this is the guy following him. Steven gulps and nods fervently, eyes darting over her shoulder at Harrow. Kat glances to the doors and sees them closed and guarded by a security guard that is watching the interaction intently. God, how bad can this security team get?

“Ronnie’s in on it.” Steven whispers, following Kats line of sight, “Kat, you should go. I'll be fine here.”

“If you think I'm leaving you with the bloody Manson family, you're sorely mistaken.” Kat murmurs, keeping her voice low and close to Steven's ear.

Turning back to Harrow, Kats voice is hard and firm as she asks, “How did you get in here?”

“It really isn't that hard, the museum is public property after all.”

“Yeah?” Kat cocks her head and gives Harrow a smile full of sharpness and intent, “Then it should be pretty simple for you to get out.”

Harrow's face darkens and makes Kats blood run cold, before abruptly clearing and chuckling as if Kat has told the greatest joke. Kat stands firm in her spot and continues to glare at Harrow, resolute to not let him see how off kilter his reaction makes her feel.

“Mate, I don't have your bloody beetle, I swear.” Steven steps around Kat, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

“Oh no, the scarab doesn’t belong to me,” Harrow interrupts with a mocking chuckle, “It belongs to her.” He points to the stone behind him that depicts a goddess with the head of a crocodile and the body of a lion mixed with a hippo, a very confusing combination of animals, “Do you know Ammit?”

Kat wants to shake Steven and ask how the hell he got mixed up with this guy. But instead, she just rolls her eyes and glares at Harrow from behind Steven's shoulder, ready to pounce on him if he tries anything.

“Do I know Ammit?” Steven dumbly repeats, “Not personally, no.”

This time, Kat actually does facepalm. Stevens' dorkiness is endearing but not helpful right now.

“Scary crocodile lady, basically the world's first boogeyman.” Kat supplies, narrowing her eyes at Harrow.

“She was only the bogeyman for evil doers.” Harrow corrects her, giving Kat a sympathetic smile that ranckles her.

“Right.” Steven nods slowly, taking Harrow's attention again.

“She grew weary of having to wait for sinners to commit their crimes before punishing them,” Harrow continues, speaking like a preacher to a congregation, “Would you wait to weed a garden till after the roses are dead?”

“I wouldn't do that.” Steven agrees cautiously, sharing a glance with Kat, whose lips are pursed in thought as she tries to work out where Harrow is going with this.

“The justice of Ammit surveys the whole of our lives.” Harrow says, leaning over his cane, his pale eyes glinting in the artificial light of the museum, “Past, present, and future.”

“Oh god.” Kat groans as she gets a lurking suspicion as to where this is going.

She has never met another avatar before and doesn’t want to now. She knows they exist; Bastet had been clear that there are other gods and other avatars in the world. She had also been clear that not all of the gods and goddesses out there are nice, nor all avatars. She had explained that avatars and gods can be evil and do evil together.

“She knows what we've done and what we will do.” Harrow continues, a knowing smile directed at Kat.

A chill crawls up her spine, god knows Ammit has plenty to judge when it comes to her.

“Consider this,” Harrow turns back to Steven, “Had Ammit been free, she would have prevented Hitler and all the destruction he wrought.”

“That hardly makes her special, pretty sure most people would want to prevent that.” Kat mutters under her breath.

“Nero,” Harrow continues, louder and giving Kat an admonishing glare that she matches and throws right back, “The Armenian genocide, pol pot.”

“Not nice people.” Steven agrees, still lost.

“But she was betrayed.” Harrow's voice drops and becomes vengeful as his eyes become distant.

Kats head snaps up, her curiosity peaked, “By who?”

“By indolent fellow gods.” Harrow says darkly, face shadowed by anger before clearing easily, “By even her own avatar.”

Kats stiffens at the mention of avatars before forcing herself to relax. Her gaze lands on Steven's confused face, his brows mashed together as a deep frown appears on his lips.

“Avatars, blue people. Love that film." Steven gives a wavering smile, backing away.

“By avatar what is mean is-”

“You mean the anime?” Steven interrupts, his habit of rambling when nervous taking full effect.

“Steven?” Kat pats his shoulder to get his attention.

Steven turns to Kat, his brown eyes blown wide with fear that makes Kats heart stop beating in her chest. Sympathy colors the sigh she releases, she knows how fear digs its claws in and clutches at your heart until your breath is nothing but cold.

“Steven, stop.” Kat tells him, holding his gaze and squeezing his arm comfortingly.

Steven turns back to Harrow, his hands shaking as his voice trembles, “Are you going to kill me?”

Above them the lights crackle and flicker for a moment before resuming their normal light. Kat looks to the corner of the exhibit, there, as she had predicted, stands Bastet. Her slitted golden pupils narrowed and glaring at the grey-haired man, her lips curled into a snarl that Kat unconsciously echos on her own face.

“I do not mind if you kill this one.” Bastets rich voice echoes through Kats skull and she has to bite back a chuckle.

“It's maddening, isn't it?” Harrow draws Kats attention back to him, a knowing smirk on his face as he looks between Steven and Kat, “The voice in your head? Relentless, forever unsatisfied. No matter how hard you try to please, it devours you until there's nothing but a hollow shell. And the more you ask for help the more you sound like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Speaking from personal experience?” Kat asks, taunting.

Her fear for Steven does not dim her tendency to become unbearably sarcastic when frustrated. Her mouth has gotten her shot, stabbed, and a myriad of other painful situations. Yet even after all this, she never stops.

“I am trying to help you.” Harrow implores to Steven, ignoring Kat entirely.

“I saw you kill that woman in the alps.” Steven shakes his head, shrinking in on himself.

“I only told her what millions more will soon learn.”

“Yeah, you definitely don't sound like a bond villain.” Kat remarks dryly, crossing her arms to hide how her fingers curl and uncurl in her fists.

In a flash, Harrow grabs Steven's arms and places his cane between them, holding Steven in a tight grip..

“Hey!” Kat shouts, grabbing for Steven's arm but is too late as Harrow's cane starts to move and the security guard, Ronnie, grabs Kat and holds her back.

Kat writhes and struggles as she watches Harrow hold Steven's arms in place and watch his cane rocking back and forth between them. Before she has time to even begin a pattern of moves to get out of the hold, Harrow takes in a sharp breath as his scale tattoo turns a deep brown on his skin.

Harrow steps back and regards Steven with a pitying look, “There is chaos in you.”

A tenseness hangs in the air, thick and unmoving as a boulder. Harrow stares a steven who shakes in his grasp.

“Well you're just delightful.” Kat says sarcastically, breaking the tense mood, “I bet you're so fun at parties.”

Harrow looks at Steven, trying to understand him, trying to see something in him beneath the surface. He then looks at Kat, something akin to disappointment in his gaze. It pins Kat, those pale icy eyes that hold the threat of harm in them and she stops struggling and freezes.

“Release them.”

At Harrow's order, Ronnie drops Kat as she curses roughly and stumbles forward. Steven instinctively steps forward to catch her and stop her from falling to the ground, his arms coming to rest around her waist easily. Unconsciously, Kat relaxes into Steven's hold for a moment, savoring the comforting feeling of his arms around her, before clearing her throat and stepping back.

“Hey! Get back here and answer some questions!” Kat calls after Harrow, who ignores her and exits the exhibit with Ronnie trailing behind him, giving Steven and Kat a warning glare to not follow.

“What the bloody hell just happened?” Steven asks no one in particular, staring at the door where Harrow had left, before turning his questioning gaze to kat.

“I have no idea.” Kat breathes, trying, and failing, to understand.

So the man from Stevens' dream is real, he’s stalking Steven, and possibly herself. The man is a cult leader and a weirdo who has some kind of creepy dedication to Ammit. The one good thing is that Harrow seems to not want to harm Steven, but Kat has no doubt he will if Steven doesn’t give him this scarab he speaks of. She can't just leave Steven to fend off Harrow by himself, she won’t let him get hurt if she can do anything about it. Damn her bleeding heart.

‘Screw it.’ Kat decides, her mind finally made up as she throws caution to the wind, ‘It's my last job anyways, so what if I retire before finishing it?’

The threatening text looms in her mind like a fog rolling in and promising destruction. Kat hopes it was just some idiot who’s more bark than bite, she had dealt with plenty of those. But the threat still shook her despite how she tries to convince herself it didn't.

Giving up on trying to convince herself to follow through and kill Steven is easy, simple, natural. Convincing herself she isn't making a mistake though, that is harder. It’s easy to not kill someone, harder to be content with the fact that she has failed.

“Oi! Stevie!” Donna's shrill voice echoes across the exhibit, making both Steven and Kat jump, “You're still on inventory tonight.”

“Yeah. Thanks Donna.” Steven says loudly back, sarcasm tinging his voice as dread presents clear as day on his face.

Kats gaze lingers on where Harrow had left, a twisting feeling in her gut, “Hey, could you uh, I don't know, call me when you're done with inventory?”

Kat looks down at her shoes and fights away the heat in her cheeks. She knows how it sounds, but she’s just worried for his safety, that’s all.

“Yeah, okay.” Steven agrees, a soft smile on his face, quickly warming her heart, “inventory can go pretty late, are you sure? I wouldn't want to wake you.”

Kat snorts a laugh, “Don't worry, you won't. I don't sleep much.”

She doesn’t add that the reason for her lack of sleep is her nightly activities of hunting wrong doers at night. Or that the reason she even has those nightly activities is the large humanoid cat that follows her everywhere she goes and provides unhelpful comments.

Looking at her watch, Kat sadly realizes that the next tour group is due to arrive soon, “I have to go, but remember to call me.” Kat turns to leave before a thought comes to her, “And maybe just… run immediately if that Harrow bloke shows up again.”

“Right.” Steven says, rubbing the back of his neck, “And… Thank you, for helping with that.”

Kat waves off his thanks, saying easily, “No problem, I only did what anyone would.”

“I uh, I don't have your number.” Steven calls to her, his fingers fumbling as he hastily pulls out his phone.

“Oh right,” Kat laughs at herself and gives an embarrassed smile, walking back over to steven.

Pulling her receipt from that morning from her pocket, Kat plucks the pen from Steven's front pocket and writes down her cell number.

“Here.” She holds out the paper for him and puts the pen back in his pocket.

With a quick goodbye and a promise to visit the shop before she heads home, Kat heads off to find the next tour group.

For the rest of her shift, Kat pushes everything from her mind and loses herself in her work. Her hands move in large gestures as she explains different myths and legends in a storybook manner. Her eyes twinkle with mirth and mischief as she tells a myth similar to a modern-day ghost story, watching the children's eyes grow wide and gasp at the tense moments, completely enraptured by the story.

From his spot behind the gift shop counter, Steven watches her as well. His eyes following her as she walks through the gallery with the school children trailing after her like ducklings. This job suits her. She clearly finds enjoyment in teaching the children and her touch for the theatrical adds a magical spark to her tours.

Though Steven wants to be a guide himself, he has to admit that Kat is especially adept at it. The way her eyes sparkle as she grins, the way her face is open and honest when it’s usually guarded, it all makes his heart beat faster in his chest. Steven feels like a schoolboy again, a blushing mess whenever Kats eyes catch his. His eyes keep catching on the receipt where her number is scrawled in a messy handwriting. Beside the digits is a small cartoonish heart. It probably means nothing, Steven convinces himself, or at least tries to.

Like she had promised, Kat stops by the shop and says a quick goodbye to Steven. After that, she walks out of the gallery and into the busy streets. The streetlights have lit and bless the darkness with its glow, chasing away the shadows. She takes time to wander through the park and breath on her way home. Her flat’s boring and drab and cramped, she needs to take the time to be in the wide-open air and smell the breeze.

By the time she reaches her flat, it is late into the night and there has still been no call from Steven. As the minutes tick by, her worry grows. Harrow's visit had set her on edge. If he is willing to show himself and corner Steven in broad daylight and public, he clearly wasn't worried about being challenged or needing any subtlety. Which, in turn, means he will do anything he wants no matter the space he is in. It is dangerous when one thinks like that. They become more dangerous.

The fact that Steven is alone, at night, with no one there to help, makes him a perfect target right now.

Before she can think twice, Kat turns on her heel and marches back to the gallery. On her way she ducks into an ally and ditches her satchel, promising to come back for it later and hoping she won't forget where she hid it.

“Bastet!” Kat calls into the sky, sure she looks insane to anyone glancing down the alley.

The goddess appears on the fire escape above her with a whoosh of wind, her purple robes billowing in the breeze as she pins Kat with a smug smile, “You're going back for that man?”

“Don't be obtuse, it doesn't suit you.” Kat grounds out, impatient and already the adrenaline has set buzzing in her veins, “Give me the suit.”

“So bossy, a simple please costs nothing.” Bastet says with a haughty sniff but does as Kat askes anyways.

The warm glow settles on her skin as the fabric appears over her. Her pupils slit, and her fangs emerge. The cool bands around her arms make her skin erupt with goosebumps. Her hair is pulled back and her halo of blades becomes a weight on her head.

Catching the last rung on the fire escape ladder, Kat swings herself up and climbs to the roof, taking off for the gallery as the cool night air blows across her face. The stars above shine brightly but she is too hurried to bother noticing their beauty on this night.

Since there are no nearby buildings near the gallery, Kat has to climb down to the street and run into the shadows of the tall pillars that mask the entrance. Pressing herself tightly to the stone, Kat looks for an easy way in. She knows where all the cameras are, she knows she won't be able to avoid them all. Running to the side of the building, Kat pulls two small metal items from the pocket of her tactical suit and inserts them into the lock of the employee entrance. It takes a minute for her to find the lock's sweet spot, but when she does, it takes only a few seconds to unlock the door.

Slipping in, Kat keeps to the shadows as she creeps to the gift shop. She hopes to see Steven there, completely fine and bored as he does inventory, and to be able to laugh at her silliness and go home. But she doesn’t. The gift shop is abandoned, the lights which should have been on when any employees are still here, are off.

For a moment, Kat allows herself to hope that Steven had gone home and simply forgot to call her, but that hope vanishes as she spies Steven's bag leaning against the counter, abandoned and forgotten.

‘Okay. Breath, keep looking.’ She reminds herself, taking a slow breath and opening her eyes as her focus returns.

She goes further into the gallery, into the exhibits. They are all intact, unharmed relics bathed in their display lights. There's barely a sign of anyone being there, except for the hastily replaced pot on the display in the middle of the hall. It should have been in the exact middle with a painting of a hawk facing outwards. Instead it is to the left and has been tilted so the hawk faces away.

Kat can practically see Steven knocking the pot over and putting it back in a hurry while he looks around to make sure no one noticed.

“Bastet?” Kat whispers into the dark, walking into another exhibit with still no sign of Steven, “Any help here?”

“Mmm, now you want my help.” Bastet responds penuatly.

Kat is going to strangle her.

“Can we do this another time?” Kat asks tiredly, dragging a hand over her face, “Please, just help me find Steven?”

“Why do you need to find him so bad?”

“I can't explain it but,” Kat worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “I just have this feeling that he needs help.”

Apparently taking sympathy on her avatar, Bastet relents and tells her, “I believe there is a jackal in the mens bathroom.”

“What!?” Kat shouts, turning on the goddess with irritation, “You couldn't have told me this earlier?”

“I thought you would find out soon enough.” The goddess shrugs nonchalantly.

With a huff, Kat takes off running to the bathrooms. Sure enough, as she gets closer she can hear the crack of glass and shattering tiles. The howling yelp of a jackal almost drowned out by the rush of water from the broken pipes.

Wasting no time, Kat bursts through the door, blades in hand and ready to protect Steven.

‘Well that's new’ Kat thinks mutely, pausing in the doorway as shock overtakes her.

Before her, the bathroom is a mess, completely wrecked as lights flicker violently above. A stranger stands in a white cape and wrapped in ancient wrappings that configure around his body and face. In the center of his chest is a crescent moon containing a golden blade. The man holds the jackal roughly by the throat, his other hand buried with a blade deep in the jackal's abdomen.

The bathroom is a mess of water and shattered glass. Broken mirrors line the equally broken sinks, pipes had been ripped from the walls and a thin sheet of water covers everything, reflecting Kats confused face back at her.

Kat stares at the man in white. The man stares back with his glowing white eyes. Both are too shocked by the other's appearance to do anything but stare. Until Kat notices the distinct lack of someone.

Surging forward in a flash, Kat catches the man off guard and kicks his feet from under him while pushing him back against the wall and pinning him there. The man moves to fight back before the cool metal of Kats blade settles against his throat and he, smartly, decides to stay still.

“Where is Steven?” Kat hisses, her voice low and dark with the promise of violence. Her face has become a mask of anger and deadly intent, the slits of her pupils dark and fathomless as they pin the man with their gaze.

The man doesn't answer, his body goes rigid under kats grip. Somehow the mask he wears with its glowing white eyes are able to convey his shock, widening before narrowing at her.

“Where,” Kat grabs the fabric of his hood and pulls his head to look up at her, “Is Steven Grant?”

“Why do you want to know?”

The man's voice is rough, a distinct Chicago accent shining through his words.

“What did you do to him?” Kat growls, fangs appearing in her sneer.

The man's lack of answers does not bode well for Steven and panic is starting to set in.

“Nothing.” The man insists, sounding more annoyed with the situation than afraid that Kat was currently holding a blade to his neck, “Steven's fine, he's safe.”

“Show me.” Kat demands, she isn’t going to take this man's words for it.

The man scoffs, and Kat is sure he rolled his eyes under that mask, “I can’t.”

“The hell you mean you ‘can't’?”

“I mean I can't!”

They are both shouting by now. Each frustrated with the other.

“I am going to ask you one more time.” Kat growls, her voice soft yet sharp with anger as she presses the blade further against his throat and leans in close until her face is inches from his, “And you should think very carefully about how you answer.”

The man makes a weak attempt to pull back as Kat brings her lips close to his ear.

“Where. Is. Steven?”

The silence is heavy, tense and thick. The only sound is the trickle of water and the splash of it hitting the tile flooring. The buzz of the flickering lights overhead are loud in this quietness.

“He went home.” The man finally says.

“Is he safe? Was he hurt?” Kats voice becomes more worried than angered, her grip relaxing slightly.

“He's fine.” The man answers shortly.

Kat lets out a sigh of relief. In her relief, the blade edges away from the man's throat and he takes the opportunity.

Leaping up, the man reverses their position so Kat is backed against the wall instead. She lets out a hiss of pain as her back hits the wall roughly, her shock at the change of positions making her brain stall for a moment. His masked eyes glare at her as he pulls a crescent blade from his chest and shoves it into the wall behind her, pinning her arm underneath. He does the same to the other arm and stands back to admire his work.

“Don't follow me.” He warns, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I wasn't really planning to.” Kat spits, vexed that he had managed to subdue her.

With a short nod of satisfaction, the man turns and walks out of the bathroom, his cape sweeping in an arc behind him. Kat stares after him as she struggles against the crescent blades. It is a tricky maneuver to unpin herself, pull against them and she will be cut. The crescents are small and she can’t just slip her arms out. Since both arms are pinned, she can’t use her other hand to free one arm.

God she is going to kill that guy if she ever sees him again!

After a half hour of trying to free herself, Kat finally gets out with only a few cuts to the tender flesh of her biceps. Stumbling through the door, Kat exits the gallery and takes care to avoid showing her face on any cameras.

The minute she gets out into the open night air, she pulls out her phone and dials Stevens number.

It rings once, twice, three times before she gives up on Steven answering. For some reason, she believes the masked man when he had said Steven is safe. Something in his voice had made her worry settle, that scares kat. She’s the type of person to worry until she sees concrete proof not too. This man's words are not concrete proof. And yet, she had believed them so easily, is she getting too relaxed?

‘Stupid masked man, making me doubt myself.’ She thinks darkly, walking back to her flat.

Her glower and her stiff gait prevents any drunk from trying to talk to her, thankfully. Her thoughts are a mess of masked men, sweet Steven, and the bloody weirdo cult leader that is Aurther Harrow.

Flopping into bed, Kat doesn't even bother getting undressed. Her muscles are sore, her mind is tired, and she just wants sleep. Thankfully, sleep comes quickly to her that night, and before she knows it, the world fades to darkness and her thoughts peeter out into nothing.