Patient B-2

Chapter Eight: Idalia

I noticed them immediately, two figures whose lives I've irreparably altered, as Avalyn would say. I had always assumed they would come after me eventually, but I never expected them to find me this quickly. Then again, Avalyn managed to track me down in just six months, but she's always been exceptionally intelligent, unlike the others.

All I craved was routine, and instead, I gained a pest. Despite my initial irritation, she's become somewhat welcomed. I don't mind her as much now. I've always been adept at covering my tracks; it's how I managed to evade that dreadful man for two centuries, as well as any member of WWA who crossed my path. However, my longing for a semblance of normalcy led me into a precarious situation.

This is different though; the unexpected presence of the girl and the loverboy has ignited a simmering anger within me. Yet, judging by their oblivious demeanor, it seems they're unaware of my presence here.

Leave it to fate to completely fuck me.

Before I can even lightly tap a perfectly manicured finger on Avalyn's delicate shoulder, Cierien's gaze fixates on her as though she's a specter emerging from the shadows. And, in a way, she is. When Avalyn first confided in me, revealing her past and her intentions, I was flooded with a peculiar mix of emotions. Initially, I balked at the thought of additional complications; forming partnerships had always seemed like an unnecessary burden. Yet, when Avalyn divulged her readiness to confront every last member of WWA, a surge of exhilaration coursed through me.

There's a profound complexity to Avalyn, something profoundly askew beneath her composed exterior. She shares my affinity for danger, perhaps even a penchant for violence, though she conceals it with greater finesse. It's as if she and I are kindred spirits, drawn to the allure of chaos and conflict. She recognizes the beauty in the darkness, just as I do. However, her appreciation is quieter, more restrained, a subtle undercurrent beneath her calm demeanor. That's precisely why our partnership flourishes. We complement each other's strengths, our shared thirst for adrenaline and our unspoken understanding forging an unbreakable bond.

Alright, so she's more than welcomed.

Avalyn's acute awareness doesn't falter; she quickly senses the unwelcome intrusion of Cierien Cardwell. Yet, in typical fashion, she maintains her poised exterior, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve that belies any hint of unease. With practiced finesse, she regards him as though he were nothing more than a passing stranger, effortlessly masking any flicker of recognition. It's a skill I meticulously imparted to her, teaching her how to navigate through turbulent waters with unwavering serenity. And in this moment, as I witness her poised demeanor, I can't help but swell with pride, much like a mother marveling at her child's accomplishments.

Her fingers close around my wrists like a vice, and within moments, we find ourselves at the forefront of the store. "Cierien," she begins, but I interject before she can utter another word.

"Oh, I saw that," I giggle, unable to contain my amusement, my hand instinctively rising to cover my smile. "Cierien? Who's he? You've never heard of him." My words spill forth with a playful nonchalance.

She pinches me, sending a jolt of discomfort through me, swiftly extinguishing the bubbling joy that had momentarily consumed me. Reacting impulsively, I return the gesture with a scowl etching itself onto my features, the once-present smile fading into a stern expression. "Do that again," I urge, my voice carrying a hint of warning as I narrow my eyes at her.

"Cut it out. We need to leave. Now."

I roll my eyes, tugging her closer to me. "You head to the apartment. I'll lead them in the opposite direction."

"And that would work, how?" she questions, her gaze darting nervously around us, searching for any signs of them.

"We have the same hair color. I doubt he fully registered that it was you. I don't know if you know this..." I lower my voice to a whisper, mimicking her anxious glances and cautiously scanning our surroundings for any prying eyes. "But you're supposed to be dead."