To Love and Blood

“You could be a bit nicer.” Layla says softly, whispering so as not to disturb Kat.

“She lied to me, to us.” Marc huffs, turning to glance at his reflection where Steven is wiping away tears.

Layla sighs and chews her lip as she thinks of how to put what she wants to say.

“And don't say that I'm a hypocrite because I also lied.” Marc says before Layla can say anything, “Those are completely different.”

“Are they?” Layla questions, raising a brow at Marc, “You both lied to me about who you are. It doesn't feel good, does it?”

Marc runs a hand over his face and sighs, leaning back in his seat, “No, it doesn't.”

Layla nods but says nothing more about it. Marc looks in the rearview mirror and sees Kat sleeping soundly, shifting slightly in her sleep. Frowning, Marc sighs again and looks away, catching Stevens' eye. He looks crushed, like his heart has been stomped on.

Unable to hold Steven's gaze, Marc changes topics, picking at the blood on his jacket and poking his finger through one of the holes now adorning it.

“Aw, I really liked this jacket.” Marc complains, reaching into the back seat and grabbing a spare shirt from the bag.

Shucking his ruined shirt and jacket off, Marc stretches his sore muscles and revels at the cool air against his chest.

“The hell did I just wake up to?” Kat mutters from the back seat, eyes trailing unabashedly over Marc and licking her lips unconsciously, obviously still not in her right mind, “I swear you had a shirt on before, wait, is this a dream? Oh gods this is a great dream, please continue.”

Layla snorts and shakes her head as Marc buries his face in his hand, embarrassed. Marc pulls a new shirt on and ignores the disappointed noises coming from the back seat.

“Go back to sleep, Kat,” Layla says, Marc still ignoring Kats presence.

“Mmm, kay.” Kat murmurs, already falling asleep again.

When silence settles in the car again, Layla glances over to Marc. He's looking out the window, brows drawn deep in thought and a slight purse to his frowning lips.

“What?” Marc demands, feeling her eyes on him.

“Don't do this to her, Marc.” Layla says softly, keeping her eyes trained ahead, “You have every right to be angry, you do, but she obviously regrets it. Let her atone, let her make amends.”

Marc makes a thoughtful noise but doesn't say anything else. Layla lets it go, taking whatever wins she can right now. Silence falls in the car once again, only Kats soft breathing and the rumble of the car as noise.

In the quiet, Layla's mind wanders, going back over the events of the night. From docking the boat to having her life saved by Kat, twice. The night is dark and the roads become more and more deserted as they go further from the city and venture into the desert. Stars gleam in the sky and the moon glows brightly as the jeeps headlights cut through the dark.

“What was Harrow talking about?” Layla finally asks, almost fearing the answer.

“What do you mean?”

“He said I had a right to know.” Layla says.

Marc clears his throat and turns his face away as he answers, “I have no idea.”

“I never told anyone why I really moved,” Layla divulges, her voice becoming shaky with a foreboding fear, “but he knew, he saw right through me.”

“He's just trying to mess with you.” Marc says shortly, “He's trying to get inside your mind, don't let him do that.”

Kat keeps her breathing even and quiet as she stares at the back seat, trying to decide if this is the most awkward moment in her life or not. She decides that it probably isn't, but it's definitely a close second. Her head hurts like hell, but when she had woken up a few minutes ago, she was more aware than before and slowly coming to understand just how absolutely screwed she is.

“He's got this idea that he can see the true nature of people or some shit like that.” Marc continues, unaware of the third party involuntarily listening in, “If that were true, I don't think he’d have a bunch of homicidal maniacs as disciples, would he?”

“So it's not true?” Layla asks, hope in her voice, “What he said about you and..”

She trails off, letting Marc fill in the blanks.

“No.” Marc says firmly, “It's not true, he's just trying to divide us. Don't let him get in your head.”

Kats is unable to see Marc's face, but she can hear his voice pitch slightly higher. Her heart sinks as Marc cements himself in another lie. She understands, truly she does, but at the same time she wants to shake him and tell him to tell Layla the truth.

“Every time I learn something new about you, I think, ‘that's it, there can't possibly be any more secrets between us’ and then something else pops up.” Layla sighs, the hurt in her voice audible, “It's like I've not known you at all.”

“You haven't.” Marc agrees quietly, sadly, “You don't.”

Layla nods, accepting this answer.

“Does she?” Layla questions, nodding back to where Kat lays.

Marc looks back at Kat, watching the rise and fall of her chest that acts as calming waves. Her chestnut hair is splayed over the seat in a curly mess, her arms hugging herself even in sleep.

Kat fights to keep her breathing even as she waits for Marc's answer.

“No.” Marc finally sighs, turning back to face forward and closing his eyes as he leans his head back on the seat, “No, she doesn't.”

Kat waits another few minutes filled with silence before groaning and pretending to stretch and yawn. Rolling over to face the front but not sitting up, Kat meets Layla's eyes in the rearview mirror and gives her a small smile which Layla returns. She notices that Marc is staring at his reflection and talking quietly under his breath.

Kat hopes that Steven will at least let her try and explain, though there's really not much to explain. Maybe it will help that she's not an assassin anymore, or maybe it won't help at all.

The car is silent until Layla pulls off the road and onto the sandy desert. The wheels kick up sand behind them and they drive until they cannot see the road behind them anymore. Kat finally sits up with a groan and holds a hand to her head as she adjusts to the dull pain behind her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Layla asks, turning back to face Kat as Marc opens his door and stomps around to the trunk.

“Like I got hit by a baseball bat and then run over by a semi and then hit with a brick.” Kat replies dryly, pressing her lips in a grimace.

“Ouch.” Layla cringes, getting out of the car and opening the back door for Kat as she shuffles out.

Stretching her sore back, Kat takes the time to look around. It's dark but the light of the jeep's headlights paired with the light of the moon creates enough light for her to see the sand dunes rising around them, as if kissing the sky with their crest. It's a clear night, perfect for seeing the twinkling stars.

Kat stands back and watches as Marc lays the paper pieces on the hood of the jeep and begins trying to put them together. Layla begins to help Marc but neither of them can make any sense of this puzzle.

Looking over her shoulder, Layla sees Kat standing unsurely nearby and waves her over. Hesitantly, Kat walks over and looks over Marc's shoulder to see the papers, taking care to not get too close.

Marc stiffens at Kat's presence but stays silent, frowning down at the fragments with frustration. He and Layla shuffle the pieces around again but there's still no pattern they can see. Marc gives a groan and pushes off of the hood to stomp around.

Kat takes this opportunity to arrange the fragments herself, but she has no better luck. They need Steven. Kat doesn't want Steven to come out. She knows that Steven is a bloody genius with this stuff, but at the same time, she's afraid of actually having to see his reaction to the revelation of her past job.

“Marc, we need Steven.” Layla calls insistently as Marc shakes his head roughly against the idea, “He understands all of this, I really think it's worth giving him a shot.”

“He won't return the body.” Marc argues, crossing his arms and scowling at the sand.

“Marc, we don't have time.” Layla cries angrily, “Just let go.”

Marc scoffs and kicks at the sand. Taking a chance, Kat cautiously walks over to Marc, as if approaching a wild animal. She keeps her hands out to show that she's no harm, but still Marc stills as she approaches.

“Marc, I will get Steven to return the body okay?” Kat says softly, “I promise.”

Marc gives a low, mocking, laugh, “And why should I trust your promises?”

“Fine!” Kat yells, throwing her hands into the air, “Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I'm a horrible person, a monster.” Kat gives a derisive snort and turns on Marc, pointing a finger at him, “But I never, ever, broke my promises.”

“Fine.” Marc relents, sighing as he closes his eyes and whispers to himself, “Alright, you're in.”

Kat watches, entranced as Marc's head throws back and his eyes roll back into his head before coming back. His eyes are different now, more vulnerable, and his entire demeanor has changed all in an instant. It's a beautiful sight to Kat.

“Cheers, thanks a lot.” Steven says to, well, himself.

Kat can't help the smile on her face at hearing Stevens' distinctly British accent again. Her smile falls as Steven notices her and his eyes become pained.

“Steven I-” Kat begins, not knowing really what she's going to say next.

“Lets, uh, the um, the puzzle.” Steven stumbles awkwardly over his words, edging back to where Layla stands by the jeep, watching with wide eyes.

“Right.” Kat sighs, letting Steven skirt around the subject and follows him over.

Dragging her feet in the sand, Kat follows Steven. From the corner of her eye Kat can see Layla giving her a pitying look, one that she ignores. She doesn't need any pity, she doesn't deserve it.

Stevens' eyes become lit with excitement as he grabs the papers and walks away from the jeep to flop down in the sand and spread the papers out. Kat carefully sits nearby with Layla standing behind her, giving him space to work.

Steven murmurs to himself as he begins arranging the papers in an order. Looking over at Layla and Kat, Steven explains his process.

“Egyptians invented modern navigation.” He explains excitedly, taping two pieces together, “There’s not a lot of landmarks in the desert, so they came up with a way to get around using the sun and the stars.” He looks over at Kat, a grin on his face that leaves Kat breathless, “Bloody genius, innit?”

“Yeah.” Kat breaths, watching Steven work with fascination.

“Et voila!” Steven announces, holding up the papers he had taped into a star shape.

“Your pronunciation really needs some work.” Kat teases, easily falling back into their banter.

Steven smiles before it falls and he gets the pained look on his face again, quietly saying, “Yeah, guess so.”

“I'm not one anymore.” Kat rushes out, her words blurring together as she speaks quickly in case she never gets another chance, pushing to words out like expelling poison from her lungs, “An assassin, I mean. I was one, I did terrible things Steven, and I'm not excusing those, but I'm not an assassin anymore. I quit.”

Steven stares at her open mouthed, mirroring his goldfish Gus, clearing his throat and meekly asking, “Why did you quit?”

Kat swallows and can't hold Stevens' searching gaze. She closes her eyes and reminds herself that lying now would only hurt Steven more. Only the truth from now on. But wouldn't it also hurt Steven if he knew that he was the target of her last mission?

Kat settles for a part of the truth, “Most of my targets were bad people. But this one, well he was the shining sun of humanity. I couldn't go through with it, so I quit.”

“I didn't know assassins had consciousness.” Steven mutters before cringing and apologizing, “Sorry.”

“It's okay,.” Kat gives him a sad, understanding smile, “You have every right to be angry, actually I'd be worried if you weren't.”

Steven nods and regards Kat carefully. Kat shifts under his searching gaze but forces herself to hold his eyes and let him see her. It's uncomfortable to keep the mask off, to not paste on a smile and call it all good. But part of not lying is showing Steven her true self, her true feelings. So she lets him see the pain, the sadness, the harsh years that hang heavy on her mind. She lets him see it all in her face, her eyes, her body.

Stevens brows furrow and he bites the inside of his cheek as he absorbs it all, the truth Kat is bearing. Satisfied by whatever he sees, Steven gives Kat a tentative smile, small and unsure but an olive branch nonetheless.

“I'm sorry.” Kat finally says, her eyes glassy with unshed tears as she stares back into Stevens deep brown doe-like eyes, “Truly, I'm so sorry.”

Steven nods, accepting Kats apology. Standing up, he holds a hand out to Kat, which she takes, and helps her to her feet.

“What happened to your head? Are you okay?” Steven asks worriedly, fingers straying to brush featherlight touches just above where Marc had pressed a bandage over her stitches.

“Got hit with a baton, I'm fine.”

Layla scoffs, “She's not fine, she could barely walk on her own.”

“Oh dear.” Steven exclaims, brows creasing with worry.

“I'm fine.” Kat repeats, giving Steven a reassuring smile, “Just a horrible headache.”

Steven grimaces sympathetically and barely notices as his fingers brush back a strand of hair that had fallen in Kats face, Kat notices though. She sucks in a breath and feels the heat rush to her cheeks as Steven continues to stare at her, as if entranced by whatever he sees in her face.

“Ahem.” Layla clears her throat pointedly, causing Steven and Kat to jump away from each other, unaware that they had even been that close in the first place, “What do we do with that?”

Layla nods to the taped together pieces held in Stevens hand. Bringing the paper up to his face, Steven examines it closely, but has no answer.

“Light, we need a light.” Kat says, an excited smile lighting up her face as this is something she actually knows, “Hold on a sec.”

Kat runs off to the trunk of the jeep, popping it open and digging through the back for a flashlight.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Layla says to Steven, a conspiratorial smile on her lips, “When are you going to make a move, loverboy?”

“I-uh, um, what?” Steven chokes, his eyes widening with panic and his cheeks flushing dramatically.

Layla laughs and winks at Steven as Kat runs back over, her prize held up in triumph as she flicks the flashlight on.

“Map, please.” Kat requests, holding out her hand for it.

Unable to form any words at the moment, Steven silently passes Kat the map and watches with wonder as she shines the flash light through the back of the paper, making small pinpricks of light pop out from the dark colored paper.

“Aha!” Kat cheers, announcing, “We have our constellation.”

“Brilliant.” Steven breaths, his face much closer than Kat had thought as his breath fans over her blushing cheek.

“So we should be able to triangulate the stars into coordinates right?” Layla asks, pulling out her ipad and beginning to scan the constellation.

“Well um, actually, it's not that simple.” Steven reveals with an embarrassed smile.

“Why?” Kat questions, her brows pulling together as a small pout forms on her lips.

Steven stares at her, his eyes darting down to her lips before coughing and answering, in a slightly hoarse voice, “Senfu marked that tomb, like, 2,000 years ago and the stars drift over time. Not much as far as stars go, but it could mean the difference between us searching miles away from where we’re supposed to be looking.”

Kats face falls as she nods, noting, “Not good then.”

“No, not good.” Steven agrees, “Unless we know exactly what the sky looked like on that date, then we're buggered.”

“I remember that night.” An old mythic voice says, his bird bone face appearing behind Steven, who jumps away and moves behind Kat, “I remember every night.”

“And will that memory help us or are you just sharing with the class?” Kat queries, quirking a brow at the old god.

“I pity Bastet for having such a disrespectful avatar.” Konshue hums. Kat is sure that if he had eyes, the god would be rolling them.

“And I pity Marc and Steven for having such an uppity arrogant god.” Kat bites back scathingly.

They glare at each other for a minute, or at least Kat thinks he's glaring, it's hard to tell with the empty eye sockets, of tense silence before Konshue dismisses her with a shake of his boney head and turns back to Steven and Layla.

“I can turn back the night sky.” Konshue tells them, his voice despaired and grave, “But it will come at a cost and I cannot do it alone.”

Kat smiles as a warm rush of air blows over her face and a steady rumble of a purr echoes in her mind as a silky black tail wraps around her shoulders comfortingly.

“I will lend my power as well.” Bastets low voice announces, her eyes glowing a golden yellow and her lips pulling back and showing her gleaming sharp fangs.

A chuckle spills from Kats lips as Steven screams and jumps back, scrambling away on the sand, his eyes wide and mouth falling open as he unabashedly stares at the goddess. Layla has a similar reaction, though with much less screaming.

Kats chuckles become full blown giggles that wrack her body with their joyous sound. She sometimes forgets that a 12 foot tall goddess with fangs and sharp glinting claws can be a bit intimidating. She has grown so used to Bastets presence that she doesn't even flinch when the goddess appears, but seeing Stevens' reaction reminds her much of her first meeting.

Kat is pulled out of her memories as Steven makes a whimpering sound as Bastet leans over him with a scowl.

“You have hurt my avatar.” Bastet growls at Steven, yellow eyes narrowed as Steven shakes in his skin and leans as far away as he can.

“Bastet, that's enough.” Kat sighs, rolling her eyes at the goddesses protectiveness, “I hurt him.”

Stevens gaze flits to Kat, a sadness in them. Kat holds his gaze before lowering her eyes to the ground and shaking her head.

“Hmm.” Bastet hums discontentedly, standing back to her full height and resting a clawed hand on Kats shoulder and continuing to glare at Steven who gulps, “Be warned Steven grant and Marc spector.”

“She's joking.” Kat hurriedly assures, pausing and wincing, “Mostly.”

“Right, that's not terrifying at all.” Steven whispers to himself, drawing a chuckle from Layla and Kat.

“Steven,” Konshue speaks, drawing their attention to him, he seems almost…sad, “when the gods imprison me, tell Marc to free me.”

Steven gulps and nods, following obediently as Konshue begins walking away, up a nearby sand dune. Layla and Kat exchange a glance before both hurrying after them. The sand of the dune is thick and well, sandy. It draws Kats feet in and fights against her every step.

Arriving at the top of the dune, Layla points her ipad camera at the sky and waits while Steven gets into position at Konshues side. Kat stands beside him in case he needs her help, he gives her a small nod of thanks which Kat takes as a good sign, a small step in gaining back his trust.

Taking a breath, Steven lets his suit encase him in its soft cloth. Beside him, Kat makes a choking sound as she watches and immediately turns away to hide the flush of her cheeks. She's not sure she will ever get used to seeing Steven in that crisp white suit and vest, to make it even worse, his face is uncovered and she is able to see his beautiful brown eyes and curly hair.

“Katalya, suit up and put your hand on Steven Grant's shoulder,” Bastet instructs calmly, “I will push my strength through you.”

Kat nods and lets the warmth flow over her, but it feels different. Opening her eyes, Kat examines the cloth adorning her and groans. Long rich purple silk flows over her arms, a simple dress with a low v-neck and tied at the waist by golden thread is on her. Small golden detailing is stitched in the skirt and the long loose shawl attached to the back of her dress.

“The ceremonial robes? Really?” Kat groans, tilting her head back to look at the goddess who smiles innocently back.

“I think they look quite nice.” Steven says, taking in Kats appearance with wide eyes and a blush, “You, you look nice. Ah, um, beautiful I mean.”

“Thanks.” Kat replies, ducking her head and playing with the fabric hanging from her arms, “So do you.”

Konshue and Bastet look at each other and sigh, waiting for their avatars to stop awkwardly flirting and actually do the task at hand.

“Steven,” konshue interrupts them, “do as I do.”

He raises his bony hands to the sky twinking with stars, a massive power surging through him and the sky itself. Below him, Steven hesitantly does the same as Kat rests her hand on his shoulder and feels Bastets own power run through her. Through her veins, her bones, the sinews and tendons, until it presses through her skin and into Steven. The heady rush of so much unabbidioned power passing through her feels like energy itself, like the earth and the sky and everything in between.

“Like this?” Steven asks Konshue, feeling a power that is distinctly Kats running through him and out into the sky above.

The sky above them turns faster and faster, hues of black and purple and blue blurring together as stars streak across the sky brightly and the moon and sun comes and goes in turns. Kat watches in wonder, the shining of stars twinkling in kind in her eyes.

The earth shakes and rumbles as a startled slightly hysterical laugh falls from Kats lips. The gleefulness of a child returning to her soul as she feels the infinity of the universe in and around her. It’s like there is only her and Steven and Marc in this world, hanging onto each other as the sky spins around them dizzyingly.

It is power, pure and unfiltered. It is hands clawing at wrists as the water spins in her head, hands that clasp at firm wrists and wrench them away. It is sucking down air and its sweet honeysuckle taste as she rises from the floods. It is the strength to push herself away and stand. It is deep brown eyes seeing her without fear, it is the earth rising up to meet the sky in brushes of leaves and lips, kisses exchanged silently between sky and sea.

It is all this and more as Kat feels so small in her body and too big to contain. Her bones are nonexistent, her blood is no longer rushing and her heart beats its steady pace as the only things she is aware of. Her skin feels warm and stretched as power wants to escape, not be contained by her form. Kat is sure if she were to scream only pure power would come out as a roar for the world to hear.

She is the lioness she has watched from afar, the tigress who bares her teeth and snarls unabbiddion, she is the street cat who claws for freedom and steals for life.

And then it's gone. The warmth leaves and replaces itself with empty vastness inside. Cold seeps into her bones despite the warm temperature of the night. Everything is dark and spinning, faster and faster, around and around. Kat can feel every grain of sand beneath her, steady and firm against her unsteady feet.

Kat gasps in air as she blinks herself awake, gulping it down like water after a million years in the desert. Her body feels like jelly and her headache is splitting. Beside her, Layla is pushing at something, but Kat can't care right now. Because the sky is still above her, back in its rightful place, and it is so beautiful.

The moon, shining its beaming rays, caresses her skin with its light and the wind tussles her hair around her face as she sits and stares at the sky she has always known but never seen.

“Kat!”

Someone is shaking her. Kat frowns as she turns to see Layla's worried face, when did Layla get over here?

“Kat, answer me!” Layla demands, more insistently, “Come on, Steven’s already unconscious, I can't have you going limp on me too.”

Few words make it through Kats power drunk brain, the ones that do are Steven, unconscious, already.

“I'm here.” Kat finally answers, licking her dry lips and clearing her throat a few times, shaking off the lingering idleness of her mind, “I’m with you, show me Steven.”

Layla scoffs fondly, shaking her head and teasing, “You're really living up to the whole ‘cat’ motif.”

“What do you mean?” Kat asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

She runs her hands over her head and is relieved to feel no extra ears, then she looks behind her and sees no tail.

“Your eyes,” Layla says, gesturing at Kat's eyes, “they're literally glowing and your pupils are slits.”

“Glowing?” Kat asks, gasping as Layla holds up her tablet to show her, “Oh gods…”

Her eyes are indeed glowing. A bright golden yellow shine like car headlights, her pupils dark and slitted as the only separation from the golden glow. Her eyes look more powerful, more wisened and aged.

Her eyes aren't the only thing glowing, Kat notices as she trails her fingers over her cheeks and forehead where hieroglyphs shimmer a glittering gold under her skin. These seem more faded and are fading more as Kat looks at them, her eyes are also dimming. Kat is extremely glad that they aren't a permanent side effect, otherwise she and Bastet would need to have some words.

“What happened?” Kat asks slowly, unsure of whether she wants to hear the answer or not.

“You started glowing and floating,” Layla begins, her voice awed and as if she can't believe herself either, “This golden light started wrapping around you and Steven and you looked insane!”

“Thanks.” Kat mumbles dryly.

“No like, insanely powerful!” Layla corrects, “And Steven was able to turn back the sky. I got the coordinates but then Steven passed out and you went MIA mentally.”

Kat winces at Layla's words and mutters an apology that Layla easily waves off. Layla helps Kat to her feet and leads her over to where Steven lays unconscious in the sand. Dropping to her knees, Kat pokes at Steven's face and frowns as he does not stir.

He looks peaceful, reminding Kat of those classic renaissance paintings. His curly dark hair is messy around his head and stark against the pale grains of sand cushioning his head. His face is relaxed and smooth of the worry lines that often crease his face.

“He will wake up, right?” Kat asks, letting her hand smooth back his hair from his forehead and her thumb rubbing gently as his cheek where she cups his face affectionately.

“Yes, but I don't know when.” Layla answers, watching Kats gentle, caring, ministrations.

Kat nods, letting her fingers trace his face for a moment longer, allowing herself this one indulgence, before pulling away and settling her hands in her lap. A clawed hand rests on her shoulder and Kat cranes her head back to look up at Bastets weakened form. The goddesses bright eyes dulled from their full power and her body sagging with exhaustion.

“Konshue has been imprisoned in stone, little one.” Bastet informs her sadly, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly as she delivers more bad news, “I must leave you for awhile, my strength dwindles in this form.”

“What? No!” Kat tugs at Bastets hand, begging her, “We just got started, please, you need to stay!”

Bastet looks down at her avatar sadly, kneeling down to be face to face with her and holding her face in her clawed hands, sighing.

“You will be fine without me,” Bastet assures her, “and I will not be gone forever, only until I am back to my full strength.”

“And how long will that be?” Kat questions hesitantly, frowning up at the goddess.

Bastet gives Kat a small smile before answering, “It could be hours to weeks, these things must take their time naturally.”

Kat groans and puffs out a frustrated breath, “Great, you abandoning us right when we need your help.”

“I'm not abandoning you, Katalya.” Bastet insists, her image fading slowly, “I will come back, I promise.”

As Kat watches, Bastet fades away. Kats arms grasp at nothing but air and she feels wet tears slip down her cheeks. She has never been separated from Bastet in such a way, she always knew she had Bastets protection. But now, literally right before she goes into battle, Bastet has left and taken with her the goddesses protection. Kat has the worst luck.