Rise of the Night/Run of Night

Lyla was having a dizzying day, to say the least.

Two weeks ago she had seen her childhood friend Shadowstep for the first time in six years, against her protector's orders. Congo had been very clear that she was to observe only and make no contact with her friend. Confirm he was doing what little details he had passed their way and nothing more.

It hadn't been the first time he had asked her to trail Shadow. But this time, she hadn't been able to help herself. She talked to him. Then she kissed him and fled like a coward.

Congo didn't know. Or if he did, he didn't bring it up. But the whisperings of the catacombs left them all concerned. A coup in the works against the princesses. And their only reliable way of getting the information to them was Shadow.

Their visit today was cut short by the sudden arrival of the council's lackies and a shove into an empty closet. When they emerged, Shadow was angrier than she'd ever seen him. He had punched a concrete wall and bloodied his fist bad enough that she'd had to bandage it.

It scared her a little. She knew Shadow to be calm, quiet, level headed. She couldn't recall a time when she had heard him yell like that. Let alone injure himself. But the real surprise had been as he caught her arm as she, Congo, and Shiva had been leaving.

"Come to my house tonight," he'd whispered, a certain desperation in his voice. "I need to talk to you again."

She'd nodded curtly, her mouth slightly slack in surprise. What the hell was going on that would cause him to go from chastising her for coming to see him to practically begging her to return? She had to know and that was the end of it.

Once they had returned to the catacombs, it didn't take much to slip away again. Everyone in the Diamond Dongs was used to Lyla coming and going as she pleased. Constant reporting wasn’t her style and generally interfered with her job within the group. And Shadow’s words had been for her ears only, so no one else would know where she was going. It would be safer that way.

At least that had been what she’d told herself. Now she stood in his apartment, as she had for over an hour now, pacing. She’d gone through most of the home at this point. A general sweep when she had first scoped it out 3 weeks ago, the detail work done now. It was an old habit and one she hoped Shadow could once again forgive her for. It helped her feel less like they had six years apart to contend with.

Giving up on guessing when he’d finally make it back, she’d made herself comfortable on his bed and decided to at least get some rest. She drifted out into a light sleep, the kind she used on long surveillance missions. Just enough to benefit from but not so deep as to leave her vulnerable. Without fail, she heard him trudging down the hall again, keys already jangling in his hand. She sat up, suddenly not sure where she would want him to find her.

The couch? Too casual. Pacing? Pathetic. She could stay right here, perched on top of his comforter. Would that be too forward? She bit her lip but by then it was too late. He’d opened the front door and stepped inside. She was beginning to stand when he stepped into the bedroom doorway. For a moment they both froze and stared.

She could feel the heat building in her cheeks and wished desperately that she could hide it. Luckily, he broke the silence first.

“Why’re you in my... nevermind,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Please, don’t get up.” He walked towards her as she resettled herself on the edge of the bed, poised for flight if need be.

“What did you need to talk about?” she asked, her voice softer than she meant it. The tone was too private, she knew, but it was too late. She just looked at him, her eyes big and intent in her focus. Focusing helped. Now if only she knew what he wanted...