Vatican

Chapter 17

Luka

I hate to admit it. But I had come to like the boy. I noticed how he had influenced the others around me. Even Katze had softened, which made him less rebellious and easier to instruct. I found myself smiling softly at the mention of him, something I never did, and that alone caught others off guard (including myself). I couldn't decide whether it was a curse or a blessing. Before I could decide, Gustav trudged into my office. I knew by his demeanour it was discuss something we had both been avoiding.

"The ringleader wants him back. No negotiations." I ignored the bad taste in my mouth.

"Pfft, surely there is something he wants," I reply, sounding more pathetic that I intended. Gustav pouts dismissively.

"He said all he is interested in is receiving his goods back. Otherwise, he will take... certain actions," he replies bitterly. I raise an eyebrow. He sighs, crossing his arms in frustration. It caught me off guard at how much the gesture reminded me of Katze.

"Precautions as in going public. He has already decided that if we try to negotiate further or withhold him from them, he will go public," I groan in response. I knew it. I fucking knew it. This was going to bite me in the ass someday. It had to be that fucking adorable lapan. What a fucking ball-ache.

"Personally, I don't care about the repercussions, you shouldn't let him go back there," he states boldly. His eyes looking at me defiantly. Again I wondered where the hell the polite, professional Gustav has gone. I stare at him, too much in shock to respond. I sigh heavily, the war in my mental conscience giving me nausea. How come I find it easier to pass judgements on executions than deal with this? It was messed up.

I growl to myself. This was my life. A career built on blood, sweat and sleepless nights. Pixie society could not afford my reputation being tarnished now. One fluffy lapan could not ruin it for me. "Let them have him, on the agreement that I shall be having his custom again soon," I reply. The look on Gustav's face felt like a punch in the gut. He didn't reply and stood quickly leaving my office. I sat there staring at the door he had just slammed, convincing myself that there were more faeries to play with. I was the Vatican after all.

***

I was rarely wrong in my life and the last time I regretted a decision as badly as this one, it was when I let my childhood pet cat die. Her name was Mula who I let run outside and watched her get smashed by a large truck as if she was a tomato. I cried for days in my room of isolation. I made sure no one knew, and no one except my twin sister cared enough to ask what happened to the cat. It still struck me today and after these events, it only brought back the painful hard slam of regret that I had worked so hard to avoid.

It took a few days to realise the impact it had on the place without my lapan. Gustav was stiff with me, Katze not even bothering to fight me anymore. Others seemed weary and uncaring. Listening if only for the fact that I paid them heavily for their presence. I felt myself lean on the bourbon more and more as I sat alone in my office at night.

It was three full days before I realised that I was avoiding my apartment, knowing that familiar presence was no longer there. I didn't even watch him go, having conveniently booked a meeting out of town for the occasion. I even avoided the bars and escorts that whispered sweet nothings in my ear, the blonde hair making me feel... empty. It became an endless cycle of pointless work. I worked hard to avoid the one thing I missed, in hope that I would forget. But every face, every blonde head I saw reminded me of him.

Drunk one night, I slam a glass hard onto the table having heard his soft laugh in my head. I was truly going mad. It wasn't until weeks later when Gustav's tongue click drew me out of my zombie-like state. "You're a mess," he hisses as I try pouring more drink, too drunk to realise the bottle is empty.