Luxurious Anarchy (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 23: Come With Me Now

"Viktor!"

Pain

"Viktor, what did you do!?"

He opened one eye. Well, tried to open both, but Viktor found himself unable to open his left eye. The scent of copper in the air, the taste of iron on his tongue... he frowned. Smacking his lips, he swallowed as the doors to his apartment rattled.

Something was wrong. Right?

"Viktor, open this door right now, or I swear I'll break it down!"

Viktor tried to sit up, roll out of his bed. Weakly, he groaned as he flopped onto the unforgiving hardwood floor. No, not his bed, the couch. Why was he on the couch?

"Jayce, do you not have a key?"

Ah, Mel's voice, most excellent. She was a clever one, maybe she could explain to Viktor why the room was spinning.

There was a muted click of a key working the lock, and then the vision rattling boom of the door being thrown open.

"Viktor, answer me coward, why did you sell- Oh gods, Victor!"

All of a sudden, Viktor found himself being cradled by strong arms. A soft gasp came from where he surmised the front door might be, then the swift snap of said door being ushered closed.

"Ah Jayce," he mumbled, and frowned at the way his words sounded slurred. "Pardon me, I'll go put tea on." Though, rather than rise from where he was, Viktor found himself just sort of drifting off, like he was going back to sleep.

"Viktor, Viktor focus," light slaps to his cheeks brought some clarity back to Viktor's eye, and he blinked again, looking up into the concerned face of Jayce and Mel.

"You two really do make a lovely couple," he whispered, and Jayce flushed.

"Viktor, focus, please. What happened? Did Bolbok do this?"

The name brought memories of the night before rushing back, of hurried denials, carefully controlled punches, and something oh so very vital being ripped away.

Eye wide, Viktor tried to sit up, looking around for his armor, the fragments of arcane power that he'd taken for granted.

There, on the floor, the two thin plates of black metal, his greaves. Shakily, he raised his hand, and pointed.

While Jayce just stared dumbly, Mel snapped up the two segments of armor and passed them to Viktor. He snorted, the laugh of a weak man, but even just holding the rune etched plate gave him some strength. Of course it did, the armor wanted to be worn.

"Jayce, a little help, please?"

He held out one of the greaves, and Jayce took it from him, marveling at the acid-etched metal. "So this is what you wore that reacted to the sensor, crap! Viktor, the magic sensor, why did you give it to Bolbok?! Why didn't you dispose of it?"

Even as he asked his questions, Jayce worked to roll up one of Viktor's trouser legs, strapping the greave on with brisk, economical motions. As the buckles snapped into place, Viktor felt the power flood his system, his connection to the Hexcore restored more fully.

Coughing, he sat up, and set about putting on the other greave. "Jayce, I had taken it apart, but when I had a figurative gun to my head... or maybe it was a literal gun, my memory of last night is hazy. As for giving it to Bolbok, well, how agreeable do you think I was, given the state you found me in?"
"There is a rather hefty purse of coin sitting on your dining room table, next to a signed bill of sale, Viktor."

Jayce looked over at Mel, fury in his eyes, but Viktor quickly slapped one hand over his best friend's mouth. "Mel, as cold as I may seem somedays, even at my most apathetic and bitter, I would not turn mercenary when it comes to helping the Council demonize a new selection of souls."