Chapter 8: This is Life

SERINE'S POV

Serine watched the door to her room as she bit her lip and struggled with the desire to go inside. Not having a choice, she turned away and began walking back to the kitchens. She stepped into the large area and her nose wrinkled at the mix of blood and burnt ham in the air. She quickly deposited the uneaten food in the fridge and scurried out, glad to have not been spotted by Lena.

Back in the hall, Serine paused with no idea what to do. The other members of Isaiah's gang didn't seem to enjoy her company and she couldn't go back into her room. Her fingers pulled at the collar, absently.

"Psychic."

The growl from Marcus caught Serine off guard and she jumped, turning to face him.

"We're going back out," he informed her. "Got a lead on Aragand and you need to pin him down."

"Oh, but—" she began.

"That's an order." He glared down at her smaller frame.

Footsteps stopped them both from continuing and they turned to see Isaiah entering the hall.

"Yes, my orders, Serine," he said, smoothing his jacket. "You'd best get going."

"Yes, sir," she replied meekly. She followed after Marcus as he led the way down the halls to the entrance. She looked around, seeing no one else. "Is it just us?" she asked.

"Yes," Marcus said, as he head out and led the way down the darkened drive.

Serine shivered as a cold breeze ran across her bare arms.

"Aragand is a worthless Mundane, he won't be a problem to deal with." Marcus stepped up to the passenger side of a black SUV and opened it.

Serine climbed inside and Marcus slammed the door the moment her feet were out of the way. He paced around the vehicle and got settled in the driver's seat before tossing Serine a key fob. He slammed the car into gear and whipped out into the road, cutting off another car in the process.

"Unlock yourself," he grunted, when Serine just held the fob. "We'll be on Hubbard Street in a few minutes so start looking."

Serine held the fob up, clicked the button, and the collar popped open, falling into two pieces. Unsure of what to do with them, she tucked the pieces and the fob into the glovebox. Marcus drove well over the speed limit of the city streets, weaving in and out of traffic without using a signal. He waved a hand, impatient for Serine to start searching.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She carefully spread her mind out into the streets and buildings Marcus drove them past. He slowed a bit and began driving more carefully once they entered the Mundane areas. It was early in the evening for the bars and restaurants they passed but it felt so much later. The sky was clouded once more and most of the thoughts from those Serine touched were worries about an impending snowstorm.

As the minutes ticked by, Serine caught a few memories of the man she was looking for. With a raised hand, she indicated directions. Marcus followed carefully, slowing the vehicle even further. The memories Serine watched were not terribly pleasant ones. Brent Aragand seemed to be a mean drunk at best. As the SUV drew closer to his location, regulars at the various bars had more and more recollections of him starting fights, swearing at his current girlfriends, and boasting about having many other women on the sides.

Serine shook her head, not willing to actually touch the mind of the man himself, and withdrew when she'd found his companions instead. "There," she said, indicating a dive bar below the street level.

Marcus pulled up, double parked, and got out without a word to her. He headed down a set of cement steps and disappeared inside. Serine looked around the streets, nervous to be alone, and watched the crowds of mostly drunk people. They were bundled up against the cold weather, walking in either large groups or alone, stumbling along despite the early hour.

Serine watched as one of the loners paused, staring into an alley. She reached out to warn him but before she could, he stepped into the shadows. Serine sighed and pulled her mind back to herself. The man was out of luck, likely to either show up in Lena's kitchen or in the river soon.

Laughter drew Serine's attention away from the unfortunate man and she turned back to the bar. Marcus was leading an inebriated Brent up the stairs. The drunk was falling over himself, leaning heavily on Marcus' arm to get up to road level. Though Marcus was smiling along, Serine recognized the annoyance and desire to punch the man in the face.

Opening the back door to the SUV, Marcus practically threw Brent inside and slammed the door after him. Serine shrunk away from Marcus as he retook the driver's seat and started heading back to the mansion.

"You're a pretty little thing," Brent slurred, attempting to lean over the seats. He failed and almost folded in half on the floor of the SUV.

"Shut up," Marcus barked.

"Whaa, she yours?" Brent asked, swaying as he righted himself once again.

In answer, Marcus took a turn a bit too sharply and Brent was slammed into the door. The drunk groaned and held his head.

"Think I'm gonna be sick," he complained.

"Do that and I will literally eat you," Marcus warned.

"You're weird, man," Brent laughed.

Serine stared at him over the seat back. He was completely oblivious to the situation he was in. Marcus snapped his fingers in her face and she jumped.

"Ignore him," he ordered.

Serine nodded and focused on the road before them. Without having to drive slowly, Marcus was able to get them back to the mansion in moments while still avoiding an accident. Once parked, he hopped out and pulled the drunk and dazed Brent from the car.

"Go on back to the cat," Marcus said to Serine. "Leave the collar where it is."

Serine nodded and gently climbed out of her seat. She walked behind Marcus who charged into the mansion and slipped past the two as soon as possible. She made her way to her room and took a breath before stepping inside.

Rem looked up at her. They'd managed to get into a sitting position, leaning against the side wall, though they'd had to leave the mattress to do so.

Serine bit her lip. "H-how are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Like I got burned, kidnapped, and threatened," Rem replied dryly. "How are you?"

"Feeling apologetic," Serine whispered.

Rem growled, a sound that turned quickly into a sigh. "I want to blame you, I really do, but looking around here," they gestured to the tiny room, "I can't."

Serine took a step forward and paused. "Did anyone feed you yet?"

Rem gestured to an empty plate, licked clean, in the corner.

"Good, that's good." Serine picked up the ointment tube and slowly approached. "You need some more cream."

"Sure," Rem sighed. They leaned forward and turned, giving Serine access to the burns on their back. "So what were you out doing?"

Serine applied the cream quietly for a moment. "What I had to do," she finally said.

"Kidnapping or hurting some random person then," Rem grunted. "I know what the jobs are like."

"Then you should realize there's no escaping from Isaiah," Serine replied, her voice low.

Rem didn't reply.

Serine set the ointment aside and wiped her hands on her pants. She stared at the rat's nest that was Rem's hair and reached up, touching the ends gently. "Let me do something about this," she suggested.

Rem shrugged one shoulder but didn't pull away.

Serine reached beneath the mattress and pulled out a small pick comb she used after showers. She got to work, gently removing the knots and tangles from Rem's hair. "This is how life is, Remmis," she continued. "You seem to know that as well as I do. Do what Isaiah says and you'll have a decent life."

"I don't want to do his bidding," Rem barked. They hissed as a particularly bad knot pulled. "I hate him and don't want to be one of his thugs."

Wincing at the hiss, Serine slowed her hands even more and carefully pried the knot apart. "What's the alternative?" she asked. "Starving on the streets? Running constantly? As long as Isaiah is here, you'll never be able to leave Chicago and you know it."

Rem fell silent. Serine was all too right.