ONE
Your first and only priority is the life of your Gatekeeper. If your Gatekeeper falls in battle, your death should follow, right after you have destroyed as many of the enemy as possible.
—The Tenets
I walked into Croft’s and the room became quiet as a hush fell. I was used to that reaction. Especially tonight, when I wore my resting murder face.
I stepped up to the bar and nodded at Croft, who nodded back.
“Where is she?” I asked, taking in the room. I saw her and let my eyes slide past where she sat. She hadn’t changed much.
He motioned with his chin behind me, confirming my thoughts.
“Any news?” Croft asked, concerned.
“Nothing,” I said, still scanning the room. “You?”
“Nothing,” Croft said, shaking his head. “Do you need a hand?”
I gave Croft a long look.
He was solid and, if it came down to it, he was the kind of person you wanted at your back when the dying started. He was also Porter's friend, one of the few.
Port would never forgive me if I managed to get Croft killed. I had a feeling that the path I had to walk to get Port back would involve plenty of death.
“I do, but it can't be you. No offense,” I said. “This is going to be a bloody trail.”
Croft nodded and returned the look. An entire conversation in a glance.
“If it goes sideways and there's no one else to call, you have my number. He's my friend too.”
I nodded.
“Did she come alone?”
“So far.”
I glided over to the table where the lone woman sat.
She was a companion like me. No, not like me. Violence was never her first reaction. This companion was known for being level-headed, diplomatic even.
She glanced in my direction as I approached, but I was certain she’d noticed me the moment I entered Croft's.
I sat opposite her and stared.
There were so few of us left. We avoided gathering in groups these days. The Gatekeepers had ended the companion purge, but that didn't mean some overzealous rookie wouldn't try to take one of us out in an effort to make a name for themselves.
She wore runed gear similar to mine, functional and prepped for combat. In black combat armor under a long trench coat, she was doing a perfect imitation of a dangerous femme badass. She still wore her hair short. Her yellow cat-like eyes locked onto mine.
Furi.
“Bug, what am I doing here? Besides wasting my time?
“He's gone,” I said, struggling with the words. “Port's gone.”
“What do you mean, gone? Did you...?
I gave her a look.
“Did I what?” I asked, resisting the urge to slap some sense into her. “Finish the question.”
“Did you kill him?”
“I would never hurt Port.”
“Every companion says the same thing until they snap and take out their Gatekeeper. Did you end him?”
“I guess I deserve that question,” I admitted with a short sigh. “No, I didn't kill him.”
“With your rep, we all felt it was only a matter of when, not if.”
“Fuck you.”
“You have a funny way of asking for help.”
“I know my reputation... I helped create it,” I said, letting the edge slide into my voice. “The rumors you hear about me are true. All of them.”
I let the words settle between us for a few moments. Furi flexed the muscles of her jaw before speaking.
“You threatening me?”
“I never threaten. You know me better than that.”
“You're blood bonded. Track him.”
“I can't. The bond, it’s jammed up. All I know is he's still alive.”
“So what you're telling me is that you lost your Gatekeeper?”
“Yes,” I said, the single word a stone in the pit of my stomach. “He’s gone.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Furi said. “No one loses their Gatekeeper. He's not a pair of socks you can misplace.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled, making a conscious effort not to rip her throat out.
“I didn't lose him exactly,” I clarified. “He was taken.”
“Taken?” she asked. “Who wants a washed up, retired, Gatekeeper? Are you sure he didn’t just try to escape you?”
“Like you said,” I answered, pushing the image of using Slice on her out of my mind, “we’re bonded. He was taken.”
“Where were you when this taking happened?”
“It's complicated.”
“Complicated?” she scoffed. “Is that code for saying you fucked up?”
“You going to help me or not, Furi?”
“I’m leaning to not,” she said, leaning back and shaking her head. “Right now, you and your Gatekeeper are toxic. He knocked down a building, and not just any building, no, he had to be dramatic about it and knock down the Gatekeeper HQ.”
“I know. I was there.”
“Everyone wants you both dead.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“Then you can understand when my answer is fuck off,” Furi said, clenching a fist. “I won't help you. No companion will. You're on your own…Bug.
She stood and paused.
“Thanks for nothing,” I said, glancing at her. “I hope you never need my help.”
“If I’m ever in shit that deep, trust me, I wouldn’t call you.”
“Always good to know where you stand,” I said. “So much for companion solidarity. I always knew it was BS.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” she said, her voice softer. “You approach any of the other companions with this, their response won't be as polite as mine. You want my advice? Give Porter up and start fresh. Let this go before it gets you killed.”
“You know I can't do that.”
“I know you can’t,” she admitted. “It’s you after all. I had to try.”
“Thanks, but I’m not abandoning him.”
“You want my advice? You walk down this path, it's death.”
I smiled.
“Not mine.”
She shook her head.
“Don't contact me again.”
“I won't, unless you’re part of this,” I said, my voice low and full of the promise of pain. “If I find out you are, you're going to beg me to make it fast, but I won't. You will die slow.”
“Wouldn't expect anything less from you. Goodbye, Freybug.”
I nodded in her direction without looking at her face, my mood considerably darker than when I came in. I hadn't expected her to leap at the opportunity to help me, but, at the very least, she could have pointed me in the right direction.
I cursed under my breath.
I really needed to learn how to use tact. I heard it was useful in moments like these.
Furi walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.
“You sure do know how to make friends,” a voice said from behind me. “I don't know how she didn't jump at the chance to join you, what with that charming personality of yours.”
Corman.
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