Page 92 of Katya and the Young God

Somehow,he’s already out of the bed when she wakes up, and she had rolled over to the warm side of the bed, leaving her off kilter.

Out the front window, she can see him, walking slow, his hands moving in small gestures, and she’s seen enough people lay runes on the ground that she can recognize it when she sees it.

He’s laying protection, of some sort. Securities, on top of whatever is already baked into the place by the Organization.

The sun is shining, and most of the snow is already melting off, and there are small rivulets of water running in between pine needles around her yard, and Stepan is bounding around the yard, joyfully pouncing in puddles as Pieter lays his magic.

Katya tugs her pajamas close to her at the sight, because somehow this is her life, before she abruptly turns and starts making coffee instead of dealing with it.

15

K( 5:22 PM): Still out of contact? I might need a teleport to save a child goddess sometime soon.

* * *

The next weekpasses in a haze of planning, of weighing what to do. Of checking satellite pictures of the area. Of building highly illegal rune bombs and storing them as carefully as possible, reminding Katya too much of Afghanistan. Of rebuilding her bullet collection, both normal and copper, and testing and polishing all her weapons until she’s satisfied. Of hiding the cabin, step by step, through a strange number of magical layers that she only begins to understand, so they can get Selene there and actually have her be safe.

Of checking stitches and being jealous of healing speeds, of analyzing blueprints, of tossing out ideas, of allowing herself to touch him when she wants, to lean against him.

And he marvels at it, openly so, pulling her to lean against him as much as possible, like he’s the one that can’t get enough of the contact. And he gives it openly, like he’s afraid that at any moment it’s going to be snatched away.

That at any moment she might start to not trust him again, that at any moment something will happen, put them on opposite sides again.

Katya doesn’t quite know what to do with this newfound trust, but she relishes in the touches, in the pressure. In the feeling of leaning against someone and having them wrap his arms around her without even a thought.

She doesn’t hear from Aimes, and it itches underneath her skin.

* * *

It’s four days later,and she’s sketching out a possible guns-out full-power military style takedown of the area, when her phone buzzes.

MIRI (2:41 PM): NT just got found receipt. Beatriz will be in Northern Colorado tomorrow morning for a “facility check.”

Katya shows the text to Pieter, whose expression doesn’t change but for his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

K (2:42 PM): Copy that. Thanks.

“So we go in tonight?” Pieter asks, his voice rasping. “We go in tonight, see what we can do, and get her out.”

Katya breathes out, once, twice, even. “Let's see what we can do.”

She makes a quick call to Miri, who promises her Archdemon boyfriend at nightfall, then Katya climbs to her feet.

Pieter stays sitting, staring at the blueprints, and there’s a hard look on his face, one Katya doesn’t like one bit.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, his voice firm, like he expects her to argue. Like he expects her to leave behind a useful source of information, not to mention someone who, despite his protestations, has at least some magical ability, some extra senses, and some extra firepower.

“Obviously.”

He blinks at her, like he’s expecting an argument.

“You’re healing up nicely, and you know your way around,” she says, when it’s clear he needs more information. “I don’t know how to transport her if she’s unconscious, or panicked, or any number of medical conditions. Or if I have to perform first aid. Come on, you’re useful.”

He hesitates for a split second, before he pushes himself up as well. Wordlessly, they get dressed for a hostile infiltration, with the most insane amount of weaponry Katya can fit on her body without straining her shoulder.

She bullies him into eating a meal, and he in turn makes sure she doesn’t pace the entire time, pulling her onto the couch when she’s all but vibrating with restless energy.

He tucks his face against her neck, where she’s sure that the end of her hair must tickle his nose, wrapping his arms around her in such a blatantly affectionate move that it leaves a warm pit in the middle of her stomach.

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