Greed, Pride and Wrath

Max was sitting at his desk grading papers when the butler knocked on the door.  Luckily the butler knew by now to not open the door until Max said something.  Last time had been rather embarrassing more for the butler than for Max.

The butler’s voice was muffled behind the closed door, “Sir?”

“Come in.”  Max said.

The butler stepped into the office, “Sir?  A gentleman by the name of Dedric Ormond has come to call on you.  He said to give you this.”  The butler handed over an envelope with Max’s own seal and handwriting.

Max stared at the letter and then jumped to his feet, “I’ll see him right away.”  He brushed past the butler and then stopped, “Er…”

The butler smiled a bit amused, “This way, Sir.”

The house wasn’t overly large.  But there were a few parlors for different purposes and Max always confused them for some reason.  Max stopped in the doorway of the parlor.  Standing with his back to Max was a man a few inches shorter than Max.  His blonde hair was slicked back, but a few strands fell into his green eyes.  He was dressed in loose fitting black wool trousers and a white wool shirt.  He turned and met Max’s eyes.

“Dee!”  Max said as he moved forward.  For a moment they just stood and stared at one another.

“It’s been a while, Havoc.”  Dee grinned.

“It has been.  It’s good to see you.  I was beginning to think…”  Max looked down at his feet, his voice breaking slightly, “…to think that I was the only one left.”

Dee smiled, “I thought I was too.”

They were silent as the maid bustled in with refreshments and even some of the fancy cookies Max liked.  And then they both began to tell the other what they had been doing all these years.  Dee had been away on a few odd jobs off and on throughout the years.

“You know, I asked Clare to marry me about a year after you left.  She said yes and a few days later I found her dead.”  Dee said.

Max was silent for a few moments, “Dee…?  Why didn’t you kill Emma for it?”

Dee shrugged, “Just not my style, you know.”

Max nodded.  Each of the gang had had their own way of doing things.  Max had threaded the line of his own morals.  He killed people for money.  They may have been innocent people, but he hadn’t cared.  He’d helped others though, but he walked a line between life and death, swaying from side to side.  Clare had been the best with sleight of hand.  She would walk through a bar; saying hello to everyone and no one would suspect that she had taken a good portion of their money.  Quin wasn’t exactly good at anything really unless you counted eating up all the food and drink.  He was clumsy and tended to only ever get caught trying to steal anything and he didn’t have the heart to kill anyone.  He was great at distracting people without even trying though.  That had been handy.

And then there was Dee.  Dee was a born leader.  He stayed calm.  He kept people in line.  He wasn’t the type to kill people.  He didn’t have to.  He had Max for that.  At least he did when they were all together.  When the four of them had dropped into the underground society, Dee had been the one to arrange jobs and negotiate payments and the like.  He was the calmest of them all and he could talk people out of even more money than they intended to give in the first place.

Dee’s odd jobs had consisted of helping the Lady and a few other contacts and clients arrange a number of various things.  He was oddly given trust to handle his clients’ money.  He never took anything.  He always talked his employers into giving him more money.  He didn’t need to steal it.  He had come back to Divinity’s Reach after hearing a rumor that Max was back in action.  And now he was here sitting beside Max.

Max introduced Dee to Lena.  She merely smirked when Dee tried his charm on her.  When he mentioned money and how good at handling it he was, he was rewarded with a punch to the arm by Max.  Dee was a very likable guy.  He was the kind of guy a person would just end up talking to about everything.  Over lunch, Dee entertained Lena with embarrassing stories about Max.  These stories lead to stories of the gang growing up.

“Listen, I’ve got to check in at the hospital, but I want you to meet everyone at the Phoenix Lodge tonight.  They’ll love you and you’ll love them.  Oh and you’ve got to meet my twin.”  Max said.

“I have to check in with a few people anyway.  You said it’s in Hoelbrak?”  Dee paused, “You know…I’m not sure there being two of you is a good idea…”

Max laughed.  And the pair parted.

**************************

Max was trudging through the snow toward the lodge when it happened.  There was a scream that ripped through the air.  Birds skittered out of tree tops a little ways from where Max stood.  Max bolted for the trees, heading toward the noise.  Someone was in trouble and probably hurt.  It was far too close to the lodge.  Why was it always so close to the lodge?  Emma…Had Emma hurt someone from the Phoenix on their way to the lodge?

He remembered what Varyl had said the night before.  Max refused to kill Emma while she was unconscious even though she had killed someone he loved and threatened the Phoenix.  Max was determined to kill her himself.  He hadn’t gotten the chance to kill his teacher, but he was going to kill Emma.  Dread sank in.  If she had hurt someone from the Phoenix, it would be his fault and everyone would see it as that.  It was his fault.  Because he felt that everyone deserved a chance to survive even if they had hurt someone he cared about.

He came to stop in a clearing.  A dark haired man held Dee up in the air, his hand stuck through Dee’s chest.  The man laughed wickedly and Max knew right away who it was.

“Greed…”  Max growled.

Greed stopped laughing.  He smirked and Dee fell to the ground in a heap.  A pool of blood quickly spread out from under Dee as Greed turned to Max.  His arms were covered in Dee’s blood.  His shirt soaked even more with blood.  Dee had never been the fighter that Max was.  He could fight, but he wasn’t as strong and he didn’t have the agility that the others of the gang had.

“So Havoc has returned.  How wonderful it is to see you for myself!”  Greed’s blazing red eyes bore into Max as he moved forward.  He spared Dee a glance, “Oops, looks like I’ve broken another toy.”  He sighed.  He grinned at max, “Maybe you can do something for him, Havoc?  I would like to play with him some more.”

Max growled, but moved to Dee.  He knelt down to assess the damage.  See looked up at him and managed a small smile on his blood covered lips.  It wasn’t good.  There were too many wounds.  Dee’s arm was broken.  A leg was broken.  His ribs were crushed.  His other hand was missing completely and there was the hole in his chest just below the heart but above the stomach.

Max swallowed, “It’s…not so bad, Dee.  I can fix it.”

Dee tried to laugh, “You’re…a…terrible…liar.”

Max tried to smile, but couldn’t.  He didn’t say anything.  He scooped Dee carefully into his arms as he sent healing through him, concentrating on threading the wounds back together.  There was so much damage that his magic couldn’t focus on one single wound.  It spread and spread, trying to stitch flesh together.

Max’s eyes shot open in surprise.  His healing had found something he couldn’t heal, not quickly anyway.  Organs, body parts, limbs took weeks, even months and years to heal and it couldn’t be done on the spot.  There were certain parts that were impossible to heal—the heart, the brain, the lungs and stomach.

Dee was missing quite a few organs.  Max swallowed again.  His magic was useless once more, but he had to try.  So he closed his eyes and poured all of his energy, his healing into Dee.  But nothing worked.  He might have been able to save Dee if he had been able to get him to the hospital quickly, if he had been able to secure what Dee was missing.

Dee shivered, his eyes trying to close.  He couldn’t move his arms, so he laid his head on Max’s shoulder, “She’s waiting on me, Havoc.  Clare’s waiting for me.”  His eyes fluttered.

“She’ll have to wait a bit longer.  I…I can save you, Dee.  Please just hold on.”  Max said.

Dee’s lips turned up in a smile and his voice grew soft, “I’ll…tell her you said hello…”

Max shook Dee gently, tear running down his cheeks, “Dee?  Dee?  Come on wake up, Dee.  Wake up…” He buried his face in Dee’s blood soaked blonde hair.  Behind him, Greed cackled.

There have been several times in Max’s life where he had lost control of his magic.  But this time topped them all.  He stood slowly, his head down.  The flames licked at his fingertips.  Flames rippled through his hair.  When he took a step toward Greed the very earth churned and rumbled, shook and echoed his anger.  The snow fluttering from the sky went still, freezing in midair and lightning joined the fire around his hands.

It was the first time in Max’s life that he took a life without giving the person a chance to fight back.  And he felt nothing but the churning rage and the aching pain that ripped through his body.

The Family We Never Had

Haven't posted in awhile, but still writing!  Here's something for you to enjoy!
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Max was drinking way too much lately. He knew that just by the look on Lena’s face. But going back to his old life hadn’t been easy. He’d spent too much time as a healer, helping people, preventing death rather than taking lives. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kill. He could kill without hesitation, especially if he was pissed. And he was really pissed lately.

He was angry because of the people who had tried to take his wife from him. He was angry because he had inadvertently harmed both Vi and Sefah in his selfishness to save Lena, to help give her more time. He was angry that he, a very skilled magical and non-magical healer had been unable to do nothing but sit and watch her slowly die. He was angry because he was willing to go so far as to die with her. He didn’t want a life with Lena even if it was stupid to take his own life. He didn’t feel he could do it all without her at his side.

Among the boiling anger there was grief. He only ever thought he’d feel like this if Lena had died. It was why he was drinking, to drown out the old memories that prickled through his mind day after day, hour after hour. He hadn’t really thought of his gang as family, not until he met Lena and the Phoenix. That’s when he realized that the kids he had banded up with had been like brothers and sisters to him. It hurt to know that they were killed because of him, because he had left them, abandoned them.

Quin had been killed by Pyrs, an old enemy of the gang. Clare had been killed by Emma, his old flame who accused Clare of keeping Max all to herself. Emma had thought that he and Clare were in a relationship. That wasn’t the case of course. Max saw Clare as his little sister and she thought of him as an older brother.

And then there was Dee. Where was he? Max had sent a letter, but he had not been given a reply. Max had used their old way of contacting. A message would be taken to the orphanage where the owner would hand it off to a kid who would then hand it off to a street kid. The street kid would then be able to find Dee. It might have taken a few days to get to him, but no one would have been able to open the letter, so even if it went astray it didn’t hurt anything.

But Dee had to know he was back with all the rumors circulating. Hell, most of the people involved in the underground society knew he had killed Pyrs. But still there was no sign of Dee.

On top of everything, Vi had announced she had a…a mate and she loved him. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want her to be happy. He wanted her to be very very happy for a long time and be able to spend her life making happy memories. But he didn’t feel she was ready for this. He uncle was still out there and if he was involved in her master keeping hold of her, then by now he would know that Vi was free. But who was he to stand in her way?

Maybe he was paranoid and acting rather insane, but he didn’t trust Harid one bit. He just had a very bad vibe about the man.

He sighed and set the bottle of rum down on the kitchen counter. He needed sleep and think about his next move. Emma had caught him unaware once. She would do it again soon as she could. She was just as injured as he was, but it wouldn’t stop either of them from attacking the other when the chance arrived.

He climbed back into bed and soon found himself drifting off into dreams full of memories.
 ___________________________

“Quin! Give it back!” A little girl with light brown hair and brown eyes cried as she reached for the tattered old teddy bear a boy with short gray hair and green eyes was holding out of reach.

“Nuh uh! It’s mine now, Clare and I’m gonna burn him!” Quin said.

“Don’t burn him, Quin!” Clare exclaimed as she grabbed hold of the teddy bear’s legs.

The teddy bear had seen much better days. It was old and torn in some places. One eye was missing and the cloth looked so thin that it might burst into flames in the middle of the hot summer. But it somehow stayed together.

A blonde haired boy with green eyes and much older, much taller than the other two stalked over and smacked Quin on the back of his head, “Just give the damned bear back would you? I’m tired of hearing her scream.”

“Ow…” Quin said, rubbing the back of his head. The jolt had caused him to let go of the bear and now Clare hugged it close to her, glaring at him.

They weren’t clean children. Of course there weren’t many clean children on the streets, but they were at least cleaner than some. Dirt clung to them and their tattered clothing. Their hair looked like it had never seen a brush, though even Clare’s was kept short.

Another boy came running down the street, carrying a satchel over one shoulder. He had black hair streaked with red. His skin was slightly browned. His eyes stood out the most. They were a brilliant shade of sapphire that seemed to almost glow in any lighting. He was shorter than the other boys, but taller than the girl. He looked much older than all but the blonde boy.

He looked over his shoulder where some guards were chasing after him. He hopped onto a nearby wagon and jump to catch the rail of a merchants stall, swinging himself up to a window ledge. From there he found small hand and foot holds on the side of the building, scaling up to another ledge. He didn’t stop as he ran along the top of the roof and leapt to another, climbing downward and leaping to another window ledge.

The guards sighed and turned down an alley expecting to catch the boy on the other side of the line of homes. But the boy had slipped through an open window. He climbed down the stairs of the house not caring if people were home or not. On his way through the kitchen he grabbed what visible food he could find—a hunk of cheese, some apples and another half loaf of bread. He darted out of the house and climbed back up another, leaping from ledge to ledge, swinging himself to others.

Eventually he dropped down by the other kids and handed over the bags of good, glancing over the crumbled ruins of a house to see if the guards were still following them. Clare cheered and wrapped her arms around the boy while Dee inspected the haul.

“You’re back Max! I missed you!” Clare said.

Max grinned and patted her head, “I missed you too Clare. I got us some apples. I know you like those.”

“Apples!? Can I have one, Dee?” She cried and looked to the blonde boy who handed her an apple.


“Remember we have to share all of this until we can get more. Guards’ll be lookin’ for Havoc now.” Dee said.


“Hang on…” Max said as he climbed up a broken wall, “Looks like I didn’t lose em. Stay here.”

“Havoc…you’re not gonna…” Dee started to say, but he was cut off by the sudden shouts of ‘Fire!’ He sighed, "Why did I even bother asking. Of course you're gonna set something on fire..."

“So…we should run now.” Max said as he grabbed Clare’s arm and ran off down an alley.

Later that night the four of them sat around a small fire Max had built. It was a good thing he had figured out how to use his fire magic early on. They passed pieces of bread and cheese around, only eating what they needed so they could reserve the rest for later. Food usually had to last for a week or more.

Quin sat by Clare and punched her in the arm several times, “Here ugly!” He handed her a piece of bread.

Clare made a face, “I’m not ugly! You’re ugly!”

“Nuh uh! You’re ugly! Your face looks like a horse’s ass!” Quin said and yanked on her hair.

Clare started to cry, “I’m not ugly!”

Max punched Quin rather hard in the arm, causing the boy to fall backward off the rotten log he’d been sitting on, “Stop picking on her!” Max looked up just in time to see Clare running to go hide. She was crying and hugging her teddy bear tight to her. He growled, kicking Quin and went after her, “Clare!”

Clare pulled her legs up to her chest in a corner, tears streaming down her face. Max came over and sat down next to her, holding out his arms. She fell into them and started crying more.

“I’m never gonna be pretty like those fancy laaaaaddiess!” She sobbed.

Max patted her back, “What’do you wanna look like them for?”

“Because their sooo preeetty. And the one in the maaarket…had a pretty…butterfly in her haaaair.” She wailed.

“You’re pretty just like you are, Clare. Don’t you listen to Quin. He’s just being mean.”

“No he’s not. He’s right. I’m uuuuglly!”


Max huffed. He stared at the ground unsure of what else to say when he spotted something on the ground. He pondered and then let Clare go. He snatched up a small piece of wood and a discarded hair pin. Clare made a sound when he let go and then looked up to him.

“What’re you doing, Max?” She asked.

He picked up a rubber band from the ground and began twisting the pieces together. When he was finished he held up the hair pin. The wood had been transformed into a crooked butterfly and fastened to the pin with the rubber band, tied tightly so it wouldn’t break.

“Here.” He said and kneeled down to slide it into her hair, “Now you’re even prettier than all those ladies.”

Clare touched the butterfly carefully and then beamed. She tackled Max in a hug and laughed,“Thank you Havoc! It’s so pretty!”


______________________________________

Max curled into himself while he slept. Clare had been wearing the hair pin when he last saw her. It had lasted longer than it should have. It was still intact ten years after he’d made it. As he wondered if she had been wearing it when Emma killed her tears streamed down his face and he couldn’t help the audible sob that ripped from deep down.

He would never see her smiling face again; never see her bright eyes and her bubbly laugh that always made him smile.

When We Forget

I had a dream last night that lit up a flame.  I'm not sure why it did.  It had nothing to do with things that are going on in my life right now.  There is some truth, some part of my life in this story, so you could say it's a bit close to me, but it is not the story of my life.  There's only a fragment in there.

I don't normally write in first person, but this one sorta...wrote itself in first person you could say.  I also don't normally write in anything but a fantasy realm, so this was different for me.

I don't want to say more about it right now, but enjoy something that came from a dream!  I might write more of this later.

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It was a warm day when my brother and I went to see our dad.  It was somewhere between summer and fall when the leaves begin to cover the ground, but the air is far too hot to be rolling into fall.  It had been a very long time since either of us had seen our father.  Our mother remarried when we were very young and we moved far away from him.  But that doesn’t matter, because we’re here to see him now.

We sat on the porch in silence looking out through the half screened porch.  I ran my fingers idly down the lower, wooden part of the wall.  The wood was aged and dark, a mix of black, gray and a greenish brown.  The screen of the upper wall was widely knit together.  It was gray, but so covered in rust it was hard to believe it was made from metals.

The air buzzed in that way that places full of heat usually do.  Outside the ground was mostly barren, consisting of white hot sand that covered nearly everything.  There were patches of brown and yellow leaves that looked as if they had fallen many many years before.  Patches of bare trees with fragments of the same brown and yellow leaves granted some relief from the sun that bore down.

After what felt like hours of sitting in silence, I turned to my brother and asked, “Should we go see him now?”

He took a minute to reply as he studied the wooden floor of the porch.  He nodded slowly and stood, offering me his arm, “Yeah, I think it’s time.”

I slipped my arm through his and we strolled from the porch and into the barren heat.  I was glad that I had brought the floppy straw hat I wore.  It helped block out some of the heat, but not all of it.  My brother wore a simple black fedora.  I used to make fun of him about it, but it really looked quite dashing on him.

The leaves stirred as we made our way across the sand.  In the distance I could see where our father rested.  We were so young when we last saw him that neither of us really could remember what he looked like.  Even two years older than me, my brother couldn’t describe him.

We stopped in front of a short black iron gate that was rusted with the many years and the little amount of rain that it had seen in its lifetime.  My brother opened the gate for me and I stepped through, waiting just to the side for him.  my hand slipped into his and we approached slowly, both knowing that we were about to come face to face with the truth.

Tall brown grass had covered most of the clearing.  Stones that were once shaped into all sorts of forms scattered across the clearing worn down with time.  We approached a newer stone and paused there.  My hand slipped out of my brothers and I knelt down, brushing dirt to read the inscription.

“So this is where he is.”  I said.

I settled on the aged grass, my hands folded in my lap.  My brother simply stood with his hand resting on the headstone, his head bowed and his other hand stuffed into his pocket

“That seems to be the case.” He said.

“I wish I had known him better before he died.”

“I do too.”

On EQ2 Decorating

It starts with a simple floor, a single tile
It grows and grows and grows some more
Inch by inch, day by day, piece by piece
The walls are raised and raised some more

The ceiling is set, the windows carved in place
Each piece arranged with love and care
And then arranged once more

A vision has come to life in this simple home
It grew and grew and grew some more
Through the hearts and minds of a decorating crew

Now it’s finished and ready to share
But oh no, it’s not quite through
For the ceiling is too high, the walls too short

It must be rebuilt and rebuilt some more
Through and through, wall by wall, piece by piece
A decorator’s work is never finished
But in the end it is great
For a paradise we create

Return to the Shadows

So, I am still writing.  I just keep forgetting to write up an update.  I'm managing around 2 pages every other day or so.  It's not a page a day really, but I am writing.  I'm trying to get more focused on it, but of course there's always some distraction.  I just need to try and focus instead of being lazy!  These pages aren't going to write themselves.

Anyway, here's a piece I wrote today!  Enjoy!

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Blackened pillars adorned with shimmering silver blades rose up into the air, anchoring the high black glass stained ceiling to the blackened marble floor.  Several more shimmering silver blades adorned the floor in various spots.  A soft blue light glistened from silver blade shaped sconces on the walls and some of the pillars.  It was not dark in the room, but the way the light bounced from blade to blade gave off a feeling of standing in pure darkness.

At a first glance it seemed there was no one in the room, but all along the room stood groups of men and women.  They were dressed in blacks, grays and green and browns.  It was the colors of the night, the colors of those who did not wish to be seen.  They murmured soft to one another.  Money or items exchanged hands.  Whispers of information were exchanged.  Even laughter murmured through the room.

The soft thumping followed by a distinctive click of boots quieted the room.  Head’s turned to see who was entering.  Here only someone who wished to be heard would make so much noise.  Every noise, every conversation stopped as eyes fell upon the cloaked figure that had entered.  No one moved, but the shock was clear in every expressions.

It wasn’t the distinctive clicking or thumping of his boots that gave his identity away.  It wasn’t the way he carried himself into the room.  Nor was it the way his black cloak fell over the right shoulder, leaving his left arm exposed.  No, they didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. 

It was the scar that gave away the man’s identity.  It wrapped around his left arm from palm to shoulder.  They adorned each wave of the whip-like scar were runes following every curve of the scar.  The runes shone with a bright blue and orange that appeared as if living flames were flickering up his arm.  No one had ever been able to discover the magic that was used to create the runes.  Nor had they been able to determine exactly what the runes did.  But this was how they knew him.

Maximus pushed back the hood of his cloak, shifting his gaze around the room.  The streaks that ran through his blackened hair were brighter, more red than normal.  His eyes were the same dazzling; deep blue that seemed to glow in the darkness.

He said nothing as he began to continue his stride to the door at the other side of the room.  No one stopped him and no one spoke until he had disappeared behind the large marble doors.  And then the whispers began.  Fear swept across the room.  This was bad.  And there was only one thing on everyone’s mind.

Havoc had returned.

**********************************

“So you’ve returned, have you?” said a woman’s voice from the shadows.

“It would seem I have.”  Max said.

“Why?” She asked.

It was hard to determine just where the woman stood as her voice seemed to come from every corner of the room.  He instinctively glanced around, searching for her.

“Why does anyone ever return to a past life?”

“I thought you had given it all up.”

“You can’t run from the past for forever.”  He said.

“No, you can’t.”  She said.

Silence fell.  The shadows of the room loomed over the pair.  It was a while until Max broke the silence.

“You helped me get that scholarship, didn’t you?”  He asked.

“Of course.”  She replied.

“Why?”

“Because I knew you’d make something of yourself one day.  And I was right.”

“I suppose I ought to thank you.”  He said.

She laughed, “Perhaps it should be I to thank you.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“You were my best informant on the street.  And you were my best Blade.  It was the least I could do when I found out what you desired most.”

“And what might that be?”

“Magic.  How is Teacher?”  She asked.

“Dead.”  He said.

“A pity, but a relief for you.  Now you don’t have to keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for him to find you.”

“I have other enemies.”

“Others, yes, but none who would dare openly challenge you, Havoc.”  She said.

He shook his head, “There will always be one who will want my head on a platter, Lady.”

“We live such interesting lives, always waiting for that dagger to pierce through our back.”

“Aye, but we’ll not let it keep us from living.”

“You need something, don’t you, Havoc?”  She asked.

“Is it that obvious?”  He asked.

“No, but I know you and I have heard rumors…doctor, healer, Priory’s best, professor and…noble.”   Her smirk came through her words.

He sighed, “Never thought I’d make it that far.  I only ever wanted to not have to wonder where my next meal would be.”

“And now you’ll never have to.”

“So it seems.”

“And someone is threatening to take that away, aren’t they?”  She asked.

“How did you know?”  He asked.

“You know I hear many things.  A lot of information reaches my ears.”

He nodded, “That’s true.  Yes, someone or several someone’s seek to take my happiness away, though it is not aimed at me.”

“Your…”  There was a pause, “…Wife?”

Maximus was quiet for a moment.  It was no use hiding anything from Lady, she always knew somehow.

“Yes.  I nearly lost her…”

“And nearly lost yourself.”

“How did you know?”  He asked.

“Havoc…I know you better than anyone else.  You never really attached to any other women.  You never had anything until I landed you that scholarship.  Even here you didn’t have much.  It was just a job for you.  And now you have a better life and a wife who loves you.”  She said.

“You’ve really been spying on me way too much.  Do you still have a crush on me?”  He smirked.

“What woman doesn’t?  You are…yummy.”

“And off limits now.”

She sighed pitifully, “That’s too bad.  I wouldn’t have minded another night with you.”

He chuckled and then turned more serious, “Where is he?”

She shrugged, “Dead.”

He sighed, “When?”

“A year after you left.  Someone didn’t want him to get out of his line of work.”

“He always knew how to find the worst trouble.”  Max sighed again.

“Yes and you couldn’t keep saving him.”  She said.

“Yes.  That’s all behind us now.  I have something more important.”

“Yes?”

“What do you know of a group that calls themselves the Six?”

She smiled, “Mmm.  I think you’ll have to ask Pyrs.”

“Pyrs?”  Max scowled.

“Yes,” She said, “Pyrs.  Your old pal.  Did I mention he’s the one who killed Quin?”

Max scowled, “Where is he?”

“There is an old oak tree in the Hills.  You might find something interesting there.”

“Thank you.”  Max started to turn, but a hand touched his shoulder, lips brushed against his ear.

“Be careful Havoc, I don’t want to lose you now I have you back.  Even if it’s not in the way I had hoped.”  She whispered and then drew back into the shadows.

He didn’t look back as he left the Black Halls.  There was work to be done.