Page 81 of Descent

“You’re making shit up.”

“It’s called being vulnerable with each other.” Her hand rests against my cheek, guiding my eyes to hers.

“That’s a dangerous word for people like us.”

“Yeah I suppose so. For people in our line of work. But we’re not just in our line of work anymore are we? We’re fighting for our lives now. For our minds.”

“You’re right. Sorry,” I shake my head, looking around.

“Oh my goddess,” Circe backs off a step, looking stunned.

“What?” I say, panicking just a bit. What did I do?

“You’ve never said that word to me before.” She presses her palm to her chest, swooning. “Everyone, he actually apologized to me!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I growl, heading off down the bustling street. Any direction is as good as another.

“And you’re back.”

We wander the streets for a few hours, exploring. I keep waiting for something to jump out at me. Not exactly a great plan.

We agreed what we needed to do first was to track down some hint of my family’s past in New York. Then track downDom Vipera. Then we can beat some answers out of him before we decide whether we want to obey our orders and kill him.

It follows that we stick more or less to our mission in New York. And it goes without saying that we cannot, under any circumstances, answer a call from Ananke. Still working on how we’re going to pull that off.

At some point in our trek, I feel a nostalgic aura settle over me. Like I’m walking through a memory. Maybe it’s just the sense of the city. Food vendors and shouting New Yorkers. It definitely feels a certain way. Kinda like home.

“What just happened?” Circe grabs my arm.

“Nothing.”

“Your whole posture changed when we passed that bar back there.”

“I don’t know. Reminded me of something. Nights in the city, maybe?”

“You know, before you and I started working together, I went to Greece. Went off mission. Seeing the coast, the culture…it shook a few things loose. Didn’t really know what I was doing at the time, just following a hunch.” Circe offers, pointing me back toward the entrance to the bar.

“You being positive and constructive is almost as unbearable as?—”

“As your face?”

“I was going to say your whole contentious personality, actually,” I grumble, soaking up every second of our bickering.

“Dick.”

“Cunt.”

“Buy me a drink? I have an idea.” She pulls me along behind her.

The first round burns down my throat. The second goes down smoother. By our fourth shot, I’m grinning like my dumb shit brother.

“You know, I saw him in Russia. Ciro. I think that’s why he stopped talking to me.” I’m not slurring. Mostly.

“What?” Circe giggles, waving for another round.

“Even if it wasn’t really him. It’s like…thinking he might be alive messed up my brain.”

“Uh, messed it upmore?!” Circe hands me another shot glass.

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