“You’re going away again?” Enora asked, a film of water glossing over her lilac eyes threatened to spill over.
Greg hesitated. So this was why the queen asked him to tell Enora. Having this conversation was harder than he thought. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to see each other a little less, but only for the next three months. I’ll still pick you up from school on Fridays and we can go to the pond or the park on Saturdays. After three months, everything will be back to normal. And I’ll pick you three times a week again, as usual.”
Enora’s gaze lowered. Then, a sniffle escaped her, sending a crack into her uncle’s heart as he hoisted her into his arms. “I’ll still be here, Enora. This isn’t like the one with your Aunt Pelly where I disappeared completely for two weeks. I’ll meet you two days every week and I’ll call everyday.”
“You pwomise?”
“I promise.”
She sniffled again, her arms around his neck tightened. After some time, she asked, “Are you going to see Ugly Deli?”
“No, Enora. She’s gone. For good.”
He spared her the details of how - after the mavericks had gotten everything from Izabella - he ordered his people to burn the body, with the monarchy’s seal of approval, of course. Izabella then stayed in a mason jar of ash in his office desk drawer. And everytime he thought about her ashes, he couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He felt like he was lying to Enora about never seeing his former mate again. He was technically still seeing her, though in a different form.
Two months after the cremation, he and his animal decided it was time to let go completely. They brought the jar to the same street Enora asked for a potty break with the teddy bear and he threw it into the same bin, swiftly turning away before he got second thoughts.
Coaxing her now, he said, “This is purely for work, I promise.”
“Can I come with you, Uncle Gweg?”
That warranted a big, fat, undebatable NO. He was infiltrating a circle that almost put her in danger. There was no way he’d bring her, even if she begged. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t do that. Maybe… When you’re older, you can come with me to these things. But not now, not this time.”
After a quiet moment, she asked sadly, “Is it because I’m too short?”
Not wanting to tell her the dangers that she’d be exposed to, he clicked his tongue and fibbed, “Yes, that’s exactly it. When you’re as tall as…” He had to give her something which seemed reachable in the near future - though it realistically wasn’t - and settled with, “…your mother, I’ll take you. It’ll be easier for you to see and touch everything then.”
“Mm-kay,” she murmured, resigned.
Setting her on her feet, Enora threw one last crumb into the pond, which fell nowhere near the ducks as it floated a short throw away, a further testament of her sorrow.
“I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t shoot anyone while I’m gone, okay? We might not get to go anywhere on weekends if any of your teachers called your mother.”
“He starteard it,” she complained, albeit meekly, kicking a pebble nearby, which fell into the water and created a ripple.
It was about a classmate who pulled her ponytail before she got out her birthday crossbow - which should not have been in her bag to begin with - and shot the rubber bullet at the guy’s nape. A perfect shot. It left no mark or injury but the boy cried and whined for fifteen minutes, so the teacher had to call Lucy.
Enora’s weapon was confiscated by her mother for three full days, which surprised the pup. She thought she’d lose it for a week or longer. As it turns out, her parents placed part of the blame on the one who pulled her hair.
Greg thought the confiscation was a little excessive. Enora acted in self-defense… sort of. It was good to start defending oneself at a young age. “You could always tell Aunty Hailey, you know? Say your head hurts after the basta— after your classmate pulled your hair.”
“Will she give me a cwossbow?”
“I doubt it. You could try asking.” He then made a mental note to tell Hailey to make sure there weren’t any crossbows within Enora’s reach in kindergarten, and to watch this pup during her daily archery playtimes in case Enora got the idea to use those instead.
The following week, Greg and thirty mavericks trooped into the hunters’ headquarters. Each type of hunter would have ten mavericks breathing down their necks in the coming months, who would rotate at month’s end. Greg himself would turn up in any department at any time he deemed fit. Bless his cousin-in-law…fine, and cousin - for materializing this big-shot request he made. The archers, chameleons and octopuses crammed in the welcome lounge to greet them. Valor’s idea was to start with an introduction session “to break the ice”. A gust of frustrated exhale left Greg when he replied, “I break necks and limbs, sometimes ribs, but never ice.” Taking one step closer, towering over Valor who swallowed and tried not to squirm, Greg declared, “I’m not here to make friends, Valor. My people and I have memorized every face, name and background of every hunter months before today. If you and your people have not conveyed the thirty-one names and faces here to memory, I’d recommend you step
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” The orange-hair huntress, Hazel Robinson, whispered to Sushmita.Hazel was deputy chief with a personality that was in direct contrast from her superior. She was the approachable one, the friendly one, the one you’d want at a party because she’d light up the room.Sushmita, on the other hand, would just dim everything down - at least, that was how she felt.It was surprising to them both that Sushmita was appointed chief when Hazel was already deputy under their former chief, Zasper Zavier. Sushmita tried to change the defense ministry’s minds but they saw no merit in “she’d already been deputy for years”, so the position went to Sushmita, who the ministry knew would handle the publicity and mediation with the kingdom well enough that they themselves would remain alive at the end of things.Hazel and Abbott had been under close scrutiny when their respective chief and deputy had been found to be involved in the conspiracy. It took several weeks before they were c
Greg was reading Sush’s profile. The first part, he already knew: only child; orphaned at age ten; stayed with maternal relatives until a few days shy of her eighteen birthday before the last of them - her uncle, passed on. After high school, she took up mechanical engineering with a full scholarship in her first year, partial scholarship in subsequent years while taking up jobs at restaurants, malls and two-day events that pay a lot. She graduated with a Second Class (Upper) Division and secured a job at a moderately reputable company but quit two years later and joined the hunters. Here was what he didn’t know: she took multiple courses in hacking; her parents were what they called Liabilities - non-hunters. Both died in road accidents, albeit separate ones. It was rare for a hunter to be born out of two Liabilities, but history did prove this was possible. In the midst of working, he heard a shriek, followed by a crash and an overdramatic, “Ouch! Ooooh! Help!” coming from somewher
Sushmita made her way to the lunch lounge that was built exclusively for the chameleons while the octopuses and archers spent their lunch hour on a separate floor. The chameleons’ lounge had posh furniture and high-tier lighting, floors that shone and air-conditioners that were all fully functional. Sushmita breezed past the food stations and chameleons queuing to form a millipede, heading straight to the VIP section where the salt and pepper hair of her boss came into view. Patterson was there, too. As expected. The Chief Chameleon sat leaned back with one leg over the other, an arm casually resting on the empty chair next to him, chatting with Valor with the confident, easy smile that gave him such a big boost in climbing up the ranks. Sushmita wasn’t sure whether it was the pattering of her sneakers or her radiating anno
Exiting the elevator, Sush drew in a greedy lungful of air. She loved the smell of the trenches, which she wasn’t sure whether was odd. Even before she was chief, her senses loved it here. She didn’t like the politics, the gossip, the need to please the higher-ups, but the work? God, she loved the work. She especially loved inventing things and tweaking inventions, drawing immense satisfaction from bringing her imagination to life, running tests, finding solutions to problems, improving designs and modifying structures. This was her place, her escape. Sure, there were bad days but even those days had good stuff in it.It was sad that she’d have to leave once she’d avenged her mother. It was the main reason she stayed, she felt - to linger around long enough to be entrusted with every piece of information within the headquarters. Deep down, she knew she’d love to stay forever if she could. But she couldn’t have it both ways. It wouldn’t be wise or feasible to stay by the end of her pl
Sushmita reached her one-bedroom apartment after midnight. Lying in bed and staring into the darkness that jeeringly matched her life, she kept telling her body to go to sleep. But it couldn’t. Her energy levels would normally be wiped out by now and she may not even remember her head touching the pillow or whether she pulled up the blankets. But tonight, she even had the mental and physical strength to charge her phone.Yes, she knew it wasn’t good for the battery. No, she didn’t care.Her brain was still buzzing, nerves still firing. From Delilah to Valor to Catrine Carter to Monica Upshaw and… to Greg. Why Greg? She delved deeper into that.Unlike the catastrophe of a person she’d imagined, he actually seemed… decent. Not a choice of word she’d go for from the little she knew about him before today, especially not after the way he ended Logan Larson. She should be terrified from witnessing the kill, but she actually felt envious that Greg was granted permission to do something she
“Did you know he threw the iced latte right down the sink?” Hazel whispered like a flood just swept away an entire village.“Really? I didn’t think someone like him would drain a cup before throwing it into the trash. Ow! Haze!” Sush flinched when her deputy struck her arm with a thick ring folder.Sulking in her chair and tucking the folder back under her tablet on her lap, Hazel said, “You’re usually funny when you’re mean, but not this time.”Rubbing away the sensation from the blow, Sush said, “Maybe the duke’s just here to work, Haze. How about you give him a pass? It’s not like you don’t have other offers. And pull up B-12 for me, please.”
At lunch, Hazel asked Sush about why she had to get Greg bagels and coffee. Sush lied eloquently on the spot, saying that she lost a bet against the duke about his age, to which Hazel reprimanded, “How could you not know that? Everyone knows it’s a hundred and ninety! Five years older than the king! Last I checked, you’re thirty-five, so aren’t you supposed to have the memory of a thirty-five-year-old?” “Unlike you, my brain cells are limited and I have to be selective about what I store in them. His age seemed too trivial to warrant a space in my mental archive.” The truth was she knew. Like Greg, she’d memorized his and the mavericks’ profiles and faces before they showed up, down to the most trivial detail of their ages. “So… he just happened to tell you he took coffee?” Suspicion crawled onto Hazel’s face. “Nope. He just said whoever lost the bet would buy the other bagels and coffee.” “You two sure are getting along,” Hazel remarked, not even trying to hide her indignation. H