Taking Light {Sequel: "For Love of Evil"}

-3-

Lyra sat at the kitchen island, watching Roman stand in front of the open fridge, drinking the reddish pink goo from the glass vase.

He sat down across from Lyra, licking his lips as he stared her way. Lyra smiled, sliding a piece of paper to Roman as she took a sip of coffee.

"What's this?" Roman asked, looking down at the feminine handwriting.

"That's where Peter is." Lyra said, watching Roman's face twist in annoyance. He stood from the stool, sighing softly before crossing his arms. He pursed his lips, looking to the floor beneath his feet.

"Why are you so hellbent on finding Peter, hm? Is that what you've been doing with your time?" Roman spat, stepping toward Lyra on the other side of the island.

Lyra kept her eyes away from Roman's, staring down at the handle of her mug. "I'm a woman, Roman. Give me a name and internet, and I'll make the FBI look like amateurs... it's in our nature."

"Look at me." Roman spoke softly, bracing his palms on the marble top, pushing his weight into his arms.

"I'm getting weak, Roman. Weaker than I've ever been in my life, and you're taking advantage of that." Lyra admitted, knowing the moment she had made it to the top of the staircase, Roman had used his trick on her.

Roman felt something, guilt perhaps. Or possibly embarrassment because Lyra had found out. He was only guilty because he had gotten caught.

"Your mom just died... Shelley is still missing, and all you've been doing is tracking down Peter. That says a lot about your priorities." Roman snapped.

"We need Peter... to help find Shelley. And my mom's dead, for all I know, I won't even be allowed to go to her funeral. That is why you didn't wanna tell me, isn't it?" Lyra pressed, trying to understand why Roman had tried keeping it from her.

Roman pushed off the island, staring down at Lyra who refused to glance in his line of sight. It was disheartening, which in turn, made him angry. "Fine. You wanna run to Peter, I'm not stopping you." Roman growled, turning on his heels.

Lyra watched as Roman stormed out of sight, hearing the sound of car keys in his hand. The front door slammed shut - she knew that Roman had left.

Lyra finished her coffee, walking over to the sink to rinse the mug. She sighed heavily, wondering how anyone made it in the world solely on trust.

Everyone lied about everything. Sometimes, they lied without even realizing it. Lyra didn't have to read Roman's mind to know that he was lying to himself - he liked that Lyra was incapable of reading his mind or feeling his emotions. He also liked that he could control her now. It had always been a power struggle with Roman, and now he was finally winning.

Lyra snatched the paper on the island, putting on her jacket and tossing the purse strap over her shoulder.

She made her way to the door, grabbing the keys in the bowl, holding her breath as she thought of Roman. She exhaled slowly, reminding herself that though she loved Roman, she needed to find Peter for the greater good.
-
Lyra had parked next to the sidewalk, staring across the street at "Templar's Towing And Repairs." She had been sitting in the same spot for nearly an hour - watching mechanics come in and out of the open building; some toying in the junkyard. A bell rang, watching as a dozen workers flooded off the property.

Lyra sat up in the seat, looking for a man with long dark hair and a scruffy beard. Most of the men fit the description, but one in particular stood out from the crowd - Peter Rumancek.

He climbed into a beat up tow truck, one that looked to be in need of a new paint job. Lyra smiled at the sight of him; wearing a grease stained jumpsuit.

She turned on the car, waiting for Peter to make it to the road before she began following him.

Her heart raced, going over the scripted speech she had planned to say to him, but it suddenly didn't sound right. She stayed on his tail, finding it odd that he was turning off onto obscure roads that kept leading to the main road.

Peter turned into an alley, slamming on his brakes and killing the engine. Lyra sighed heavily, tossing the planned speech in her head. She watched as Peter got out of the truck, slamming the door as he made his way to the G Wagon.

Lyra rolled down the window, seeing through the windshield that Peter was irritated; his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

Peter's face fell when approaching the driver's side, seeing Lyra sitting behind the wheel with a timid smile.

A moment of silence lingered; Peter stared blankly at Lyra trying to process reality.

"You- you're alive?" Peter smirked with a slight scoff. "Shit." He laughed weakly.

"You're really hard to find." Lyra said with a wide smile.

"I, ah... how? I mean... we checked pulses and shit. Your throat-"

Lyra moved her hair away from her neck, revealing to Peter the faded scar that was barely there. "I'd love to explain it to you. How 'bout we go the diner and talk about it?" Lyra swallowed, hoping Peter would oblige.

Peter scratched the nape of his neck, trailing his hand to the scruff on his chin as if contemplating the suggestion.

"Yeah... yeah, why not, right?... sure." Peter patted the hood of Lyra's car, trailing back to the tow truck.

Lyra pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile as she turned the key over in the ignition, backing out onto the stretch of road.