Alcohol & Economics - Something Dangerous - Part 11

Deceit pushed open the door, exhausted. It didn’t matter what civilization she dealt with, nor the time period or culture. Politics were worse than small children trying to explain something they didn’t know the mechanics or name of, with only a limited vocabulary and stick figure drawings. Today had been filled with whining over the dragons’ migrations (that happened ‘at the same time every fucking year’) and the sudden increase of human military-grade weaponry showing up on the Black Market. She’d have to investigate that one herself on her next trip through the supposedly illegal marketplace. Not even a drink at Gehanna’s Pub had helped her state, which was a feat in itself. Waiting for her inside the door was Etna, looking particularly pale and nervous.

“What now?” Deceit all but whispered, her voice nearly failing from the last several hours of aggravation. Her patience was running rather thin as well, but she didn’t have the energy, much less the will, to lash out at her already overworked housekeeper.

“You have a visitor waiting for you in the Upper Library. He’s been here for two hours already, and instructed me to give you this when you arrived.” She brought her niece up to date quietly, which was very unusual for Etna. Deceit didn’t ask, and instead accepted the small drawstring bag she offered.

“You’re taking orders from strangers now?” Etna assumed her niece was being rhetorical with a light tone and handed her a water bottle instead of an answer before withdrawing to the kitchen.

Deceit made her way through the near silent halls with ease, not bothering to investigate her newest possession or fumble around in the dark for light switches. She’d grown up within the confines of the estate, often finding new ways to escape it and her mother’s harsh parenting, refusing to return for months at a time. Over the past decade, it had become more of a home and much more recently her base of operations- out from beneath the watchful eyes of the High Court she was an unwilling part of. The mass majority were idiots afraid of what they didn’t understand, and Deceit would be damned if they were going to gang up on her over her personal affairs that were, quite frankly, none of their damned business.

Lost in her inner ramblings, she had made it as far as the White Room on autopilot. The circular room was one of many scattered across the house, but the only one in such a dreaded color. Her mother had decided on it, of course, citing something about innocence and modernization. Deceit sighed and dropped her bag on the staircase- the mess of canvas growled in response to harsh treatment. She ignored it, busying herself with picking up stray toys and small blocks. Damon had fallen asleep watching and reenacting old war cartoons again, from what she could tell. Deceit draped a throw over the sleeping werewolf and shut the television off before collecting her battered, growling bag and continuing her trek to the library. She’d have to get a system for his room, she decided. Damon was in the White Room far more than anywhere else, and that could prove troublesome if the Council found out. Housing an untreated werewolf was just a little bit illegal, after all.

“Welcome back, Miss Deceit.” Athena welcomed with a battered tome in hand. The supposed visitor that had been waiting for her was nowhere to be seen. “Is there anything you require?”

“No, thank you, Athena; you may have the rest of the night to yourself.” Athena bowed in response, irking Deceit a bit. She understood that Athena was once in charge of guarding and maintain Heaven’s library, and Heaven was notorious for being ridiculously polite. But this whole bowing thing was getting out of hand. She’d save it for another time, however, as there was a visitor that had somehow bypassed a handful of her security spells and Deceit was determined to rip him to shreds over it.

After dumping her (still growling) bag on her pristine desk, she wandered down the rows of books, shelving any volumes left in the walkway. Upon making her way to the farthest corner of the library, she was rewarded with her mystery guest- sitting in a corner chair (her favorite one, to be precise) with a copy of the human Aristophanes’ Lysistrata in hand. She had half a mind to push him out of the open balcony to their left for the way he bent the already battered pages. Instead, she kept her temper in check and began shutting up the balcony for the night, more to get rid of the temptation to maim the dirty blonde stranger than anything else. She was ignoring his existence, of course, but that would only work for so long. Deceit made quick work of the balcony before moving on to the windows, shutting the entire line of them with ease. The stranger, however, seemed to know of her internal struggle to avoid maiming and or killing him on the spot, and closed the book with a small smile she would deny ever seeing.

“Welcome home, Deceit.” It had taken Osiris weeks to gain information about Lucifer’s familial ties, all under the pretense of something dangerous occurring. He was insanely proud of the fact he could still recall the information.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house.” Deceit was tired and most certainly not in the mood for this guy’s smug tone. Her frosty demand didn’t seem to faze him, however.

“Your housekeeper let me in.” It looked like she was going to have to have a conversation with Etna in the near future about her lack of screening guests. What in the world was that chaos dæmon thinking anyway, letting such a shady individual into her home. ‘Wait, no. That’s kind of what she does.’

“You didn’t answer the first part of my question.”

“It wasn’t a question, now was it?”

“Look, I’m not playing games with you right now. It’s going to be dawn soon and I have things to do. Leave your card and get out.” Oh, manners were definitely not one of her strong points when tired. She stifled a yawn as the silence between the two extended.

“Very well, I will come calling tomorrow, mind you. Try not to make me wait so long.” He gave her a smile before vanishing. Deceit didn’t move for a few moments, anger diluting her sleepiness.

“That son of a bitch took my book with him!” She growled, moving the chair back to where it was supposed to be. Deceit would get him for breaking past all her fucking security spells, and taking her book, and ‘…Fucking warping out of my library. Really, he couldn’t have used a more conventional method, like a door?”

“Fuck it, I’ll deal with him in the morning.” Deceit could not, however, shake the feeling that she knew him. Perhaps she met him somewhere, a (very) long time ago? Pushing those thoughts aside, she shuffled up a hidden staircase after doubling back for her bag. Ditching her business attire for more comfortable sleepwear, she popped a couple of sleep aids Merci would kill her for, and buried herself in a comforter. Sleep came quickly after that.