The Blood Queen

Killshot

Vicrul disappeared as soon as he saw you into the townhome, as he always did, off gathering intelligence from the many spies he employed to keep an eye on things in the Underworld and beyond - at least that's what he said. Ever since he'd admitted that he lied to you, regardless of the reason, there was something in the back of your mind that made you uneasy. You poured yourself a large glass of wine, stepping out through heavily curtained, spotless glass double doors onto the balcony. The air was stuffy as usual, bright, flickering lights out in the distance.

You looked around to the dark windows of the surrounding apartments, knowing full well that Vicrul had bought out the entire block. Tipping the contents of your glass from side to side, you wondered if you should feel lonely, if Poe's offer should have been like a saving grace. Here you were, with only Vicrul for company, with no memory of what life had been like before, of who you had been, who you had known. Your fingers reached absentmindedly to your collar as your supposed given name drifted around your head; who was she before the accident? A blur of red and black, glowing orange eyes, a tall, dark figure with a blank face being ripped from your arms, an anguished voice screaming your name.

The collar tightened on your neck, your vision flashing in and out of darkness. No, you thought desperately, not now. Flashes of lightning broke through the void, all-consuming now, each one sending zap of pain through your body, crackling down every nerve. Someone screamed, a raw sound that echoed through your aching head.

One more flash of bright, white light, and you were gripping the iron rails of your balcony, gasping for air, the ghost of pain tingling through your body. Your wine had spilled over the floor like blood, shards of broken glass sitting among the mess. You steadied yourself, rubbing at your neck, and sighed, leaning over to gather the pieces.

"You alright?" You froze, ears perking as Vicrul joined you on the balcony.

"Accident." You held up a handful of red-stained shards, turning to face him. "Clumsy me." Vicrul raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Leave it." His gaze swept over you, lingering on your neck. "Let's talk." You sighed, following him through the glass doors back into your kitchen. The lights were dim, your corked bottle of wine and two glasses sitting in the middle of table. Anxiety swirled in your gut, but you took your place at the table, across from him, pouring your own wine, then his. You drank deeply, sighing as glass clinked against wood.

"You're trembling." Vicrul said, catching your hand before you could pull it back.

"Cut the bullshit." He smirked, but gripped you tighter. "Tell me what I want to know."

"You and I had been together awhile before we were hired to take on the First Order. I don't even remember who it was now that talked us into it. We were so desperate for cash that we would take any job that came our way." You took a deep breath, hanging on his every word, trying to spark a memory. Nothing.

"We had nothing." Vicrul continued, a muscle in his jaw clenching. You envied the fact that he remembered. "And the Resistance was offering a lot of money."

"And the Resistance just happened to forget that they asked us for help way back when?" You wondered aloud, a spark running through your veins when you met Vicrul's eyes. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

"We weren't then what we are now. The Blood Queen didn't exist. It was just..." He looked beyond you, lost in a time you couldn't join. You drained your glass, pouring another. "It was just us." He sipped at his glass, his lips pink and plump around the rim. "We were recruited, and we spied. We reported to some low-level, but there was a problem." You widened your eyes, urging him on. "We pretended to be interested in joining the First Order as soldiers, but you caught the eye of General Armitage Hux." You couldn't help but laugh aloud.