DIVISION 52 - BOOK II

CHAPTER XLII

M A K A Y L A 

The first thing I was aware of was the colour of the sheets. Dark sheets. The next was the distinct smell of male cologne. I opened my eyes and winced at the stark light coming through the curtains. They were usually closed.

I pushed myself upright and took in the same clothes I wore from last night. I smelled like a god damn bar. I scanned the alien room. Matching furniture and holo frames of foreign locations–strange weapons mounted on the walls that looked at least two centuries old.

"Good you're up." A deep voice grunted.

"Art?" I rasped.

He smirked at my chaotic look. He lounged on a sofa like he had slept there all night...

"What the hell am I doing in your room..?"

He snorted and rolled onto his feet. He pushed his hair back and took a swig of something in that towering form before crossing his arms and watching me.

"You fell unconscious. I wasn't at liberty to leave you there."

"I–what?" I got out strangled.

"Believe me, Xavier. I had different plans in mind for my night... But it was quite an amusing one either way."

I shook my head and tried to drown out the screeching pushing its way past my ears into my frontal lobe. "Just–remind me."

He drank deeply from what I assumed was water before levelling my stare.

"You dragged me to the Crypt against my will." He drawled, "–I was rather concerned for your state of being in the confines of our base so I agreed." I raised my eyebrows remembering a faint comm before the alcohol. "–what happened after–I am not sure you would like reminding of..."  

But he didn't need to spell it out. It slapped me hard in the chest.

In fact I had slapped her hard.

Alex appearing in the Crypt refusing to leave my side. Insisting that I could insult her any way I liked. My sharp and stabbing feelings of inadequacy and insecurity before yet another Sector 1 royal–her face when she had ripped herself away from me–

"What the hell did I do?" I murmured.

Art seemed marginally uncomfortable. I watched his dark eyes closely as my eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room.

"Xavier, I think it's best you let Proximo track her down–"

"You mean she's gone?" I demanded, my voice breaking at the end. "How long? Where?"

He shook his head and dropped into a crouch before the bed. "Trust me it's best you leave him to reason with her."

"Where is she?" I pressed, raising out of the sheets despite the spinning in my head.

"She took a stealth jet–he doesn't know yet."

I flopped back down and pushed my palms into my eyes.

"Makayla... She is the Division's leader. There is no where she will go for too long." He reasoned. But it fell flat on me.

"She doesn't even care about that–she cared about me." I mumbled. Not even sure if that was present tense at the current state.

He tilted his head appraising me and my lost expression.

"I got the same impression." He noted. "I never thought rulers got so... involved."