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She turned the corner and was out of sight. Max gave a grumpy grunt and reached into the pocket of his worn leather jacket for his smokes. He wasn’t in any hurry to get home. It didn’t even feel like home anymore. It was still pack territory, not his, not really. So, he lit up and started walking.
He could see where Sirene got its name. It was pretty.
Max was particularly enjoying the statues, stopping beside each one and giving them a good stare. Sometimes he’d tilt his head to the side as he surveyed, particularly if it was an abstract sort. Most of the things that his mind made from the nonsense were rude. He was doing this now, not noticing the strange looks he was getting from tourists as he snorted out loud at his vulgar conclusion.
The voice came from behind Max, a figure separating from the crowd and stepping towards him. The man was thin-faced and tall, not matching Max for bulk but making up for it with a straight-backed and looming posture that oozed authority. Long blonde hair fell over his shoulders, and a cloak covered much of his body. What clothing was visible beneath it appeared to be armour-plated. "The Lady Katherine requests your presence. She wishes to extend to you a proposition, and impart to you some important information. It concerns your family."
Most people in the city had heard the name of Lady Katherine before, though those who knew her family name were surprisingly fewer in number. She was a rich and powerful woman, well connected and respected. Some said (but not when they thought anyone else was listening) that she had connections in all the dark places of the city, and that she had both the Church and the Government in her pocket. It was likely that many of these rumours were exaggerated, however. People did like to talk.
"You are to accompany me to her estate."
The man himself might also have been recognisable to those who made it their business to be familiar with those that threatened the supernatural inhabitants of the city. Alistair De Coteaux, or as he was more commonly known, Alistair De Roux, was an Inquisitior with the Evequan Church, and one with a lot of non-human blood on his hands. Many knew him more by reputation than appearance, however, and so it was likely that Max would not know him from looking at him.
The first word from this stranger’s lips had Max on edge. No one called him Maxwell.
He turned, trying to act casual. What he saw had his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. He subdued them and took a small step backwards, trying to get as much of this man in his sight as possible. This man who was so refined was quite the opposite of Max. He even felt a flush rising when he remembered the thoughts he had interrupted with his arrival.
But the stranger’s next words made him forget all about that.
Lady Katherine. The name rang a bell. From what he could gather from his memory; a woman who should want to have nothing to do with him. Yet… Proposition? Important information? His interest was indeed snatched.
It concerns your family.
Max’s expression of mild confusion mixed with curiosity slipped into one of hostility.
By the time the stranger had finished talking, Max was still warring with himself internally. His family. He’d spent most of his life hating the people who came under that umbrella, those people who he had never met, who left his mother with nothing and had never wanted anything to do with her, or him. But then Leandra had passed. He’d found himself searching for them. Whether he was looking for revenge or identity, he still wasn’t sure. This offer…
He would take it. But he would not do so open-mindedly.
From the man’s tone, Max guessed this wasn’t negotiable.
And so he went quietly.
Hi ”
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