Part 8: Ablaze

Present day:

Through the foliage and glass partition, you could see inside the restaurant.

The lanterns outside and chandeliers from inside, converged on the Mehar, stalking over to Tushar.

"Samael, you ought to know better," she said grinning, but her eyes shone with a touch of range.

"I'm not Samael anymore, I'm Balthazar. I know you won't believe me-

He was cut short by the waiter from earlier, who tapped on Mehar's shoulder.

She turned to look at him; instead, she was met with a bowl of brown powder and a thin apple slice decorating it. He gave her a smile that crinkled the ends of his eyes and slowly turned to walk away. It was bold, and theatrical and got the message across, no problem. 

"Arsenic," Tushar echoed her thoughts.

Seeing how the man was walking calmly out of the room and away from people, it was safer to assume he didn't want a scene, and neither did she.

So with one last glare at a very confused Tushar, she took to following the man.

By the time they got to the door, she had sent Sarfaraz a message asking him to come and keep an eye on Tushar.

Through the glass door, she could see the stranger take off. In a stride, she was outside and in pursuit.

Mehar's heels clacked against the cobblestones and her hair was auburn in the moonlight.

The slit of her dress, carefully sewn to allow her to move, let the train of the dress dance in the wind, as they made their way down to the garage.

Mehar hadn't failed to notice how the man in front of her had taken a path where there were no CCTV cameras.

That morning a couple of them had been broken and she had signed off on the funds for their repair, now she knew why.

She followed him into the dimly lit garage opening.

Mehar had her gun seized a while ago, and she had never missed it more.

The stranger had slowed down to a jog and so did she. She was going to let him make the first move.

The cement floor beneath them had tire marks from the many times it had been sped over.

She didn't miss how some of them leading in were aggressive and fresh.

At this point, the stranger turned around to face her and stood with his hands in his pockets.

His collar had come undone, and he pulled on it to free himself further. Standing there, with his farce cast aside, his stance was almost charming.

"Where are the gems?" He asked, almost as if he hadn't been chased through the night.

She wouldn't have known which among the many that have fallen in and out of her hands over the course of her career. But she did, Samael, no, Balthazar had served as a reminder for the same.

She knew nothing about it but even when revealing such a thing, one has to be careful. She drew a breath in to consider. Before she could respond, lights blared from behind her with a cacophony of horns. She barely turned to look and he leaped up. Mehar turned around in the nick of time, to catch him suspended in the air, left arm upright, holding a lighter aloft and ablaze.