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The Marshal and his cronies - were they actually Biddies? How old was that guy? - fled off into the woods and Nicte let out a small, relieved exhale.
Only to see Scylla immediately violate their ceasefire and go right back to that fucking bird. She started calling out that Same.Exact.Seed that she’d been unsuccessfully trying to use for probably the entire time Nicte had been unconscious, it hadn’t worked then, sure as shit wasn't gonna work now. This wasn’t just useless, it would put the Marshal hot on their trail again and negate their short lived victory.
Nicte walked over, crouched next to her errant maybe-still-a-Spree-member, and placed one finger against her lips in the universal symbol for please shut the fuck up.
Outraged blue eyes glared at her. Oh to be young again and so fucking in love. With her other hand, Nicte scooped up the fucking bird corpse and tried her very best not to roll her eyes at all this nonsense.
Let’s go . She silently mouthed, then took her finger away from Ramshorn’s lips and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Nicte stood up and walked away, traveling in the opposite direction of the Marshal’s merry chase.
“Wait, I’m so-”
Nicte spun on her heel and glared her best ‘freeze bad guys in their tracks’ glare, and put a finger to her own lips. Then she turned and increased her pace, tucking the baby bird carcass in next to her coat like some morbid game of football.
Ramshorn would stay in the barn and get her ass caught, or she would follow and keep trying the same shit on the feathered bag of bones and organs Nicte was running off with. She was betting on the latter, and the sound of angry footsteps trailing after her was enough to confirm it. Yep, young and in love, but apparently still a member of the Spree, and with at least one little self preservation instinct left.
Nicte could work with that.
=====
When they had walked for an hour and had crossed through two Cession neighborhoods, some farmland, and a highway, Nicte finally spoke.
“You get one question.”
“Fine,” Scylla huffed, throwing one more of her occasional glances towards the bundle in Nicte’s arms, “where are we going?”
“Off to see a friend...hopefully..." Nicte’s head was on a swivel, scanning for cars parked in out of the way places, they were going to need to hijack one to get where they were going.
A farmer’s pickup truck had looked promising earlier, but then she caught the telltale glint of canine eyes through the distant open windows. She considered Pushing the dog out of the car, but even the smallest bit of Work was as dangerous as shouting, ‘two fugitives, hey everybody, two fugitives here, right in your yard!’ into the night. They’d find something, eventually. Until then they would travel on foot, more or less towards their destination.
A little after two in the morning, or at least that’s what the clock in the car said after she’d hotwired it, and they had a serviceable sedan with half a tank of gas and no one the wiser.
Ramshorn took shotgun and Nicte handed her the bird carcass as a reward for actually listening for once before she put the car in drive and headed towards a different highway. A few decades in and out of the Cession, more in than out, she supposed, was enough time for her to be able to find their destination from even this remote corner of Cession nowhere.
Nicte had helped build the place, after all.
=====
They drove south for the better part of a day. Nicte had even let Scylla try her Seed a few more times before she’d choose a highway, following some mysterious route only she knew. There was nothing on the other end of those small deathcap attempts, just the reaching up of a fruiting body and then…nothing.
She finally gave up the crow after they stopped for gas. Besides…it was starting to decay and lose its potency.
About an hour after that, Nicte declared the car had stopped smelling like dead bird and pulled over at a roadside vendor for sofke stew and blue dumplings. Scylla scraped the final dregs out of her paper cup with a dumpling when something sweet tickled her nose. She looked up to Nicte presenting her with half a small roast pumpkin, surface glistening with sugar.
“Here, Ramshorn, you should try this.” Scylla accepted the red and white checked paper tray, plastic fork stuck upright into the deep orange flesh.
She did, and it was delicious. Suspiciously so.
“Good job following orders and not getting us caught today.”
Ah, apology pumpkin, and Nicte had left off the ‘for once’ after following orders, so she was…trying. And Scylla had been a little…unreasonable earlier, an apology was probably warranted.
She said a simple, “thanks,” instead, and finished the pumpkin.
The sun was starting to set when Nicte exited a highway that ran into the forest, driving back roads that would never have shown up on any map. It was another hour and a half of this until Nicte abruptly turned off the narrow dirt road and into what looked like a copse of trees. Scylla briefly panicked when she thought they might crash, then the limbs opened up into an even narrower lane, hemmed in with sturdy trunks on both sides.
It eventually ended in a clearing, and Nicte parked the car before pulling the wires to cut the engine. “We’re here,” she announced, then got out and started looking around like something was about to pounce on her. All Scylla registered was the rushing of a nearby creek.
“Should we have called ahead?”
“And give her time to set even more traps?” Nicte shot back, still only half paying attention to Scylla herself. What were they up against here, would a Pushed bear maul them or something? This was a maybe friend of Nicte’s, and Nicte could only possibly have had very powerful Spree agents as friends for the past few decades. And if the ‘maybe’ part meant this person was more enemy than friend…?
The path started just beyond the creek. Wide, stone paved steps were cut into a low hillside, a tiered garden bracketing the sides. Nicte started up the steps and she followed. Flowers and herbs spilled out of various half barrels and planters, bursts of color despite the gathering dark as Scylla passed them. At the top of the steps stood a good sized house, single story with large windows and a warm glow coming from somewhere inside.
Erratic movement as the flapping of wings jarred Scylla's peripheral vision, too small to be an evening's murmuration of starlings.
Suddenly Scylla was turned around and back at the car. Had she forgotten something?
Nicte seemed to be in a similar situation, she was crouched down by the creek, pawing through the grass in search of…
What had they been doing again?
Nicte stood up, shook her head, and looked at Scylla by the car. "Got you too, huh?" She paused and stared hard at the house up the hill again. Her lips started moving and she let out a quiet Seed. Chittering squeaks filled the air and the swooping bats dispersed on their nightly hunt. "Guess that wasn't all just for me. You ready to head up, Ramshorn?"
"Who is this person again?" Scylla asked.
Nicte didn't answer and instead just pulled out her lighter. “Almost forgot.” she said, before flaming her face back to the one Scylla had first encountered during the prison break.
They ascended the steps again, this time without interruption, and then Nicte sketched a quick unlocking gesture on the doorknob before entering the house without even knocking. Scylla followed after, a little stunned by this move and a lot more worried. If this person could utilize bats well enough to derail Nicte Batan for a few minutes, what else could she do?
The answer was cook, apparently.
The face Nicte had been using for the past month was busy in the kitchen, an array of ingredients and mise en place bowls spread out across a sturdy looking island. The stranger wielded a very large and sharp looking chef's knife, edges shining dangerously in the light. It was currently chopping up vegetables instead of stabbed through Nicte, but Scylla had the feeling that could change in an instant.
"Hello, Louise."
"You got a lot of nerve, Nic. You fucking mind not showing up unannounced while wearing my stolen face on my own damn property?"
At the edge of the island, Scylla caught a fluffy tail frantically wagging against the hardwood floor. Impatient whining filled the kitchen while Nicte and whoever Louise was intensely looked at one another and tried to do…what, exactly?
Nicte broke the silence first. "Wait, your property?"
"Yep, is now. I get Sally and this place and you get me dealing with whatever hornets' nest you're about to drop on me instead of me letting my little friends kill you outright and send your little friend driving away like I should have."
A low whine and then Louise turned her attention downwards, piece of celery in hand. "Sal, shake…other paw…wait for it…good girl!"
Scylla could hear crunching and excited whining, but only saw that tail going a mile a minute as it peeked out from the wooden cabinets.
"I did like those bats outside, by the way, nice touch." Nicte commented. "Almost had me…for a minute."
"Hmmm," a thin smile as Louise straightened and continued chopping vegetables. "They roost nearby and are handy when it's just me alone here with Sally...which is How We Like It, by the way."
Clearly Sally had other ideas, the golden retriever had snuck around the island and was currently whining at Nicte's feet and sitting very prettily. The dog was looking up at one of the most wanted humans on earth with intense expectation, excited wiggles vibrating through her furry body.
"You're friend's looking at me like I'm a ghost, which means they've seen my face a lot lately. Care to explain that?"
"What's wrong, Ramshorn, you starting to believe all the stuff those kids were spouting at the paper plant? Every face has gotta come from somewhere." Nicte was talking to Scylla, but her attention was currently across the kitchen and hands were entirely focused on the large mass of golden fluff trying her best to either knock the Spree leader down to better lick her, or physically fuse with her.
"And that one you're doing goddess knows what with is mine, so stop giving me that smirk like you think it's gonna get you somewhere, Batan."
"Oh Louise, I'm wounded. Oof!" Nicte stood up from her crouch, holding her side like she'd been stabbed and the dog reared back, placing her paws against her to frantically lick anyplace she could reach and find the injury. She finally settled after Nicte's, "I'm fine, girl," as she scratched behind Sally's ears.
Louise sighed, "Some things never do change, do they?" She stopped chopping and set the knife down with cold precision. It almost made Scylla wish she'd stabbed it point first into her cutting board instead, and released the violence instead of taking it with her. She rounded the countertop and came face to face with Nicte.
"What the fuck do you want, Nicte? I know you didn't come all this way because you missed my home cooking."
"I need a favor." Nicte said quietly.
"No shit. And my answer is get the fuck out." Louise crossed her arms, and stared Nicte down, light eyes ablaze with…something.
"Does it help if it's not for me?" Nicte asked.
"Sure it ain't." Louise said, unconvinced. "Since Nicte Batan is known so well for her charity work . "
"Fine. Did you want to go raise an army of scattered Spree cells after what happened to our leadership in Brussels?"
"And you think you can? You only survived that attack because you were too busy hiding out in the woods being obsessed with Sarah Alder to bother meeting up in Europe."
"Lou, we've been over this, the testing centers-"
Louise huffed, unimpressed. "Were a threat you could have either delegated to another cell, or infiltrated and turned to your advantage, like we’d talked about, a dozen times or more. But instead you needed to brood out in the fucking woods in your cabin and spy on your ex while trying to remote murder her, creepy much? Except oops! didn't you get captured and almost executed instead?"
Scylla decided right then and there that she liked this woman.
“Fine, point made,” Nicte, the Nicte who made unsettling direct eye contact all the time to freak people out, instead looked down at the dog still circling and wagging under her touch, “not the very best of my strategic thinking just then.”
“Apology accepted.” Louise said, and then moved so fast that Scylla barely had a chance to cry out a warning before Nicte was hit with-
A hug…
“Thanks,” Nicte said, a bit muffled from the embrace, “I think you scared Ramshorn over there.”
“Must not’ve taken her to meet very many of your friends then.” Louise said, releasing her and taking a step back. She looked at Scylla, then Nicte, then the rustic chandeliers that adorned the ceiling, and then let out a long suffering sigh. “I’ll probably regret this later, so tell me now before I regain my good sense. What is it that needs to happen?”
“Ramshorn,” Nicte said, and it had the edge of command and a little bit of entreaty. “You mind stepping out for a bit? The less you know, the safer you are.”
“Not a problem,” Scylla said, and let herself out the way they’d come in, leaving the two enigmatic Spree leaders - because she had no doubt that’s what Louise was, or at least had been - to talk it out.
She didn’t have to wait long, no more than ten minutes passed and then the door opened and Nicte walked out. She was wearing Louise’s face again, and nodded to Scylla while adjusting the white cuffs at the wrists of her dark coat.
“C’mon, Baby Spree, there’s no reason to stay here any longer. The past is the past and we have work to do.”
"She's not going to help us, then?" Scylla asked.
"Nah, not that one, she's too busy thinking about herself for that."
Scylla kept quiet after that, what could she have said? Their last remaining ally had backed out, and their voices were being tracked. They got in the car and drove off, leaving the hidden forest home behind them.
=====
Inside the house someone sat in the kitchen, absentmindedly stroking soft golden ears in the silent house.
"You really think you can do this, don't you?"
"Lou, I gotta try. Or else what use has this been, what use has any of it been?"
"Fine…what do I need to know?"
"That you're taking care of two of the three most wanted fugitives in America right now, once you find them, which I'm betting you will, since the Marshal's been tracking our voices, and Scylla Ramshorn, that kid outside, is in love with the missing third."
"Vocal tracked by the Marshal himself? That is one big ole heap of trouble, Nic. And you got yourself involved in this how, exactly?"
"That lovesick kid put Work into a flock of crows and windstruck us out of the bus en route to DC."
Louise's eyes widened at that. "Really? That's impressive, have you been working with her?"
"Not strictly speaking," Nicte sighed. "She kept the three most wanted idiots - with no sense of self preservation, I might add - alive while I was throwing most everything I had at them." Nicte said. "Must have picked up the bat Work and used it on birds."
"So what you're saying is that this kid outside is good enough that she got your ass caught and shipped off to The General herself?" Louise let out a low whistle of appreciation.
"It was a team effort on their part." Nicte grumbled. "They've got this Knower, Craven, tallish redhead. Lou, you should've seen it, she Saw right through my sympathetic mole link and found me at the other end."
"That's a first."
"And it better be the last. That one…she knows too much, you gotta steer clear of her once you find them or else she'll figure out the whole thing."
"You like her." Louise punched Nicte in the shoulder at the realization. "Really, Nic, baby Army fugitives?"
Nicte kept her eyes down, no use in letting anyone else read her like a damn book. "She's the one that stood up to Alder at my execution, that got her to step down. Shouted Rite of Proxy to a hangar filled with the whole ass Army and the President, too. I couldn't just…walk away and let them all get killed."
"Walking away is usually your strong suit," Louise mused, "maybe you have changed."
"I'm trying, and it may be too little, too late because of the Camarilla, but if we don't set aside our differences then it's total genocide and our vocal cords ripped out for stolen tech. You've seen the reports, Lou, haven't you? The last conflict we had, the fuckers were using Windstrikes! Who knows what they'll come up with next. It has to end."
"You're set on doing this, then."
It wasn't a question.
"I promised Petra I'd protect them with everything I've got, and you're the whole damn package when it comes to 'everything.'"
Louise snickered. "That I am, and you've always had that soft spot for dear old Baby Bells."
" General Baby Bells, for now, at least."
"Fine," Louise decided. "Gimme your lighter, coat, and undershirt, I've got work to do and so do you."
Nicte shrugged out of her coat, unbuttoning brusquely before handing over the objects in question.
Louise added layer after layer of transformation, no lighter required. Until Nicte was looking at a passable version of herself with a stolen face.
"If anything happens to Sally while she's with you, there is no corner of this green earth that you will be able to run to where I won't find you."
"I'll die first before that happens, you'll be less of a pain in my ass in that way."
"Good, as long as we're in agreement." Louise said, and then wrapped Nicte up in a hug. "Don't do anything stupid, y'hear me?"
"Loud and clear." Nicte returned the embrace before letting her go. "Don't go getting yourself killed, either."
"For the Army? You know me better than that, Nic."
"You'd be surprised, these kids have a way of growing on you."
"I can see that." Louise said, eyes appraising. "You look good, Nic." She said finally. "Enjoy the gumbo."
"You mean the gumbo that's not yet made?" Nicte teased.
Louise let out a rare smile and Nicte couldn't quite remember why Sarah Alder's plans had been so important to her. "I'm sure you remember how it goes."
She did. She always would. "Thank you, for this."
"A 'thank you' and an almost apology out of Nicte Batan?" She said, light eyes dancing with mirth. "Now I really have to meet that Knower of yours..."
Then Nicte watched Louise walk out the door of the house they'd built together, the house they'd never wanted to leave.
Until one day, not too long ago, when Nicte had, and did.
"Well, girl." Nicte said, her voice tight as she stayed crouched on the floor. "Guess it's just you and me now." A large, fluffy skull burrowed into her chest, and Nicte blinked away the sheen of gathering tears.
She stood, looked towards the kitchen, at the neat bowls arrayed with freshly chopped ingredients. This place had been home, once.
Nicte impatiently swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand when her vision abruptly blurred, she was not crying, not here and not now, "Let's finish dinner, girl, and then…" Nicte took a breath, she could do this, had to do this, or all of witchkind was finished. "Then we'll go change the world…again."