Reckless

Chapter 10 Part 1

Present Day

Character POV: Roxanne

I have a voicemail from Analize, telling me to expect her. My heart thunders in my chest at the thought of being in the same room as my superior since the war where I stopped her from killing Ariadne and allowed her greatest enemy to slip away. I pace the living room of my apartment, my mind racing. Analize surely is going to know that I kept the truth about Ariadne being back from her. She's going to know that I've been shielding Ariadne from my own leader for centuries, and that despite that fact, Ariadne now is trying to torment me into submission, trying to punish me for choosing the witches over her so many centuries ago.

There's a knock at my door, dragging my attention back to the moment, and I feel my heart thundering in my chest. Normally, I'd pop something, drink a little, and then proceed with the tasks at hand, but if Analize smells it on my breath, this is only going to get worse. She'll accuse me of letting things get this bad because I'm off the wagon. I wring my hands all the way to the door, feeling like I can't breathe as I slowly undo the chain on the door, turn the tab for lock, and slowly open the door.

Analize stands there in front of me in a crisp white suit with a ruffled shirt underneath the suit jacket, only the top button undone. She pushes past me, bumping into my shoulder and forcing her way into my home without even a word of greeting. Her deep blood red hair is piled high on her head, some strands hanging down and brushing her cheeks. it makes her look like a classy woman, younger than she has a right to look after being so many centuries old. Her red eyes scan the space, but she keeps her mouth closed as I shut the door and lock it up again. With my back to her, I close my eyes and take a deep breath to still my nerves before opening my eyes again and slowly turning around to face Analize.

One eyebrow is arched in a sort of dominant challenge, daring me to say something to explain myself. Instead, I just incline my head to her in a gesture of respect and void my gaze, allowing silence to reign. Analize makes a grunting sound of approval as she walks around my living room, heels clicking on the floor. Finally, after what seems like forever, she stops in front of a picture of David on the mantel of the fireplace, picks it up, and murmurs to me, "So, I suppose that that dead body was indeed the work of Ariadne after all. Your theory about the 'rogue rookie' as you put it so eloquently has turned out to be absolute horse shit." She turns around then, putting the picture frame back in place. Her eyes are full of anger, but she says nothing more as I continue to stand there, waiting for whatever she's going to say next.

Slowly, she walks over to me, heels clicking on the floor. She stops just a few feet in front of me, and I feel myself freeze in place, bracing myself for whatever is to come. There's a rustling, the sound of some sort of paper, and then I look up to see Analize holding out an envelope yellowed with age with a delicate cursive scrawled across it. I reach out and take the letter from her as she crosses her arms over her frame and watches me closely. I turn the envelope over in my hand, reaching into its already open seam and pulling out the letter itself.

The paper is rough, yellowed with age, but it has the perfumed smell of Ariadne lingering on the page. When I look at the letter itself, I recognize the handwriting as Ariadne's. The date written in the right hand corner is today's date. This is a new letter, and it isn't addressed to me, it's addressed to Analize directly.

Drusilla,

Roxanne does nothing without your permission, as per the terms of the peace agreement. In order to speak with me, she needs your permission. I have her boyfriend, David, with me as I'm writing this. The only way he walks out of here is if I get to meet with Roxanne alone and face-to-face at the place where it all began. Give her permission, let us meet within the binds of the peace agreement, and her boyfriend's blood won't be on your hands. I promise all we'll do is talk, and she'll walk out in the same condition as she walked in.