Snippet #1958510

In the process of running after Beauregard, Amaryllis noted the presence of a familiar elderly man wading through the crowds with eyebrows furrowed. She quickly dashed towards him, not bothering any longer to pretend she was just a maid. With expert coordination she leapt, weaved, and darted through the crowd. She nearly crashed into him, but at the last moment he sidestepped, grabbed her by the arm, and spun her around efficiently to face him.

“Where is the bomb?” Kallen asked, grey eyes inspecting the room closely. “I might be able to help keep it from blowing the roof off this place.”

“You know how to…? Nevermind. I don’t know,” she admitted quickly. “Try over by the Christmas tree. A man by the name of Geoffrey should be over there looking for it. Tell him the redhead sent you to help.”

He gazed at her for a couple of moments, a frown upon his lips, before nodding. “Be careful,” he said gently and after pressing a kiss to her forehead, the gentleman headed towards the Christmas tree.

Amara turned her attention back to the staircase where she realized she was missing the party. Beauregard practically had Peter dangling over the edge of the banister at this point and she was standing there as if her world wasn’t about to end. Blinking into action, the redhead scurried back through the chaos and bounded up the stairs two by two, her bare feet making nearly no noise upon the steps.

“I guess I overestimated your ability, Peter,” she called as she finally reached the top.

With stunning speed, the redhead twisted 360 degrees, in the process producing the two knifes she’d had sheathed at her thigh. Both held delicately in her right hand, she whipped around and threw both weapons at Beauregard; one surged towards his shoulder, the other towards his thigh. Immediately after, she shot forward with another knife in hand, this time going straight for his neck.

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Downstairs, Kallen struggled through the chaos of the party. Guests were beginning to pour out onto the patio, which was making the process of reaching the tree quite a lot harder. But he made it eventually and once there he hurried over to help pick through the gifts.

“I’m going to guess your name is Geoffrey?” he asked the blonde man who was already tearing through the gifts. He carefully began picking through the lighter gifts, unable to handle the larger ones. “I’ve been sent by the redhead to assist you if need be. I have prior knowledge to diffusing a bomb.”