Lost in their Past

Chapter 30:- Charm Noir

Kalos was her first thought.

"How do you know that?" Charlus questioned.

"I am half Kalosian," she answered, "look at the design, it is kalosian, I am damn sure."

Charlus sighed as he glared at the eleven wires that lay in front of them, "Why would Kalosians tape our room when it is the unknowns we're after?"

Jitters passed down her spine, "I'm afraid to know the answer."

The trip to the Hotel Étoile was as pleasant as it could have been. There were more things to be worried about other than pretending to be married to her once mortal enemy. Grace didn't do good with cliffs or valleys, she had too many memories and not all of them were pleasant. Unfortunately for her, the hotel overlooked the entire valley of Joliet County, it was one of the steepest ones to exist, currently the only thing on her to-do list was not to hurl herself over the endless cliff.

Their assignment was to find a strange species of unknown discovered by Delia and Spencer.

But only if it were that simple.

Grace sat still as she rethought the whole scenario, if it was what she thought it was, she was done for, her memories of Kalos weren't exactly happy.

Charlus was pacing the room nervously like a mad man, his new disguise included a layer of thick blond hair which made him look like a young Steven Stone in a black parka. "Wait..." he stopped in his tracks, "h-how did you know the room was taped?"

"My phone glitched for two seconds when we entered," she answered, "it never glitches,"

"So?"

She groaned, "There was some electromagnetic interference, dumbass, it was a thought which came true."

Charlus sighed as he sank on the bed, "We have to get the list of guest out of the lobby, I think we should—"

She threw a flash drive towards him, "I did it when you asked for a refill," she said as she got up, "the data is jumbled, security here is a joke, bring your laptop."

It had been two decades since he'd met Grace, Charlus had forgotten about how quickly she worked. He caught hold of the flash drive that she had thrown towards him, a thumbnail size drive in the shape of the letter S.

"What does 'S' mean?" He inquired as he inserted the drive in his laptop.

"Don't know," she answered while climbing beside him, "run a program sorting the guests by their date of arrival, everyone within the past month."

Charlus stared at her for a moment, "Okay," he answered, "Get the printer, I'll run the program."

She grunted her teeth as she took the laptop away from him, "You get the printer," she said as she leaned back against the head frame of the queen bed, "I'll make the program... be a dear and make a cup of coffee for me as well."

Before he could have the chance to retaliate, Grace flashed him a smile along with a wink, it wasn't much but in her world, it was equivalent to ripping his clothes off. It must've worked because Charlus was gone in no time, his attempt at hiding the redness crawling on his cheek was as poor as it could get.

Grace never regretted her denial of proper education, instead of wasting her time to do something as menial as calculating an area of a circle, she learned the things which mattered the most... life-saving skills. Grace was very young when she was introduced to the harsh life of a spy, but unlike others she liked it, it gave her life a meaning, something which never happened back home.

"Here," Charlus said while handing her a cup of coffee, "black... as your soul."

She snickered while taking a sip, "It is done."

"What is?"

"The program,"

"That soon?" He exclaimed with bedazzlement in his voice, "God, you're quick."

Grace playfully hit his head as she collected the prints that came out of the portable printer, she took half of what seemed to be a hundred pages and gave the rest to Charlus. "Incinerate the drive and the hard copy after you're done, separate Orreians," she said, "...and Kalosians." She added, earning a glare from her partner.

The queen size bed was littered with pages and markers, Grace only saw it as a piece of trash but she knew that they were worth more than a treasure trove. As she separated the list of possible suspects, she couldn't help but notice the subtle signs her partner was dropping, coughing in every two seconds.

"What?!" She cried out.

He looked startled, "Nothing," He said with a sigh followed by another cough.

Her patience was running out, before she could bury his face in the three-inch wall, she took a deep breath. "Tell me, or else I swear to God I will rip apart your–"

"Ah!" Charlus stopped in mid-air, "I don't even want to hear the end of the sentence... fine! I'll tell you, it's just that..." he flashed his puppy dog eyes.

"Just... what?!"

"Weren't you a little sad when Mark was declared dead? I mean he was your boyfriend."

Grief was something Grace never got used to, of course, she used to deal with it in her crazy impossible way but jumping out of an aircraft wasn't an option, at least not this time.

For her, grief was like climbing a rope, if the rope extended till infinity and was covered in thorns. She had heard people say that talking helped, but their garbage advice had never worked, after all, she didn't have anyone to talk to.

She had once feeling for Mark before their relationship went stale. He was a nice person, certainly not bad-looking and he was a good father to Serena but the heart wants what it wants and Mark Jorum certainly wasn't one of them.

Grace crumbled the thought and threw towards the back of her head as she had for a thousand times before, forgetting before it ate you inside-out.

"I think I found them," Charlus said in a shaky voice.

"The Kalosians?" She replied in a questionable voice, "are you sure?"

He squealed with a nervous undertone, "Positive," he answered, "we have bigger problems now."

"What rubbish are you talking about?" She snatched the print away from his.

As soon as her glance fell on the piece of paper, she instantly regretted her previous words. "What the—" she cursed, "–this can't be–"

Charlus nodded sympathetically, "He's under an alias as Charm Noir."

"Charm... it's a synonym for Grace," she sighed, "and Noir... it means Black in kalosian."

Charlus nodded, "His real name is—"

"Alain Van Black," she said before he could finish, "my nephew."