Arthur dropped Saint off at one of CargoLink’s many warehouses. Their little detour wasn’t part of the plan tonight so Saint still had a lot of work to do. Arthur on the other hand didn’t, thankfully. He’d been up for more than twenty-four hours straight over the past few days, and the fatigue and exhaustion were noticeably wearing on him. He tried to make a mental note of doing better to take care of himself and get more sleep, but he just couldn’t see a way of accomplishing that at the moment. Fortunately, over the next two weeks things were relatively quiet, and after expressing to Saint that he was still a human that needed rest, Arthur got some time off.

  Arthur almost considered trying to go on some sort of vacation, even if it was just leaving the city. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a real vacation. But trying to line that up with his day job was more trouble than it was worth. So instead, Arthur decided that he could take some time now and improve his living situation at home. That way when he did get his precious few hours of sleep every night, at least it would be a little more comfortable. Arthur was almost apprehensive about it, but checking his bank account reminded him that he was now making significantly more money than ever before. And, he was in a position to use that money. His only family lived out of state and there was nobody else dependent on him, so it made it clear who he would be spending all his money on; himself. He already had a new car, so the next logical upgrade was to get the hell out of his ratty apartment. Over the next month, Arthur spent some time shopping around before he found a place just five minutes between Syndrome and Vista Way, a street that CargoLink had a location on that he often worked out of.

  It was on the sixth floor of an eight floor condo high-rise that had just been fresh built in the developmental area of town, similarly to where Syndrome had gone up. The building was clean, its exterior mostly glass with white, modern walls. The doors had electronic locks and there was an alarm system inside each unit, as well as rotating armed guards at the front. The night shift guard he usually saw was named Marcus. Marcus was a middle aged guy from Louisiana who was relaxed and friendly, but never slept on the job. At least not too often. Arthur liked him. The day shift guard Arthur never met beyond once or twice, and Arthur didn’t even know his name.

  All in all, Arthur liked this condo a lot more. The kitchen looked like something out of a TV show. The counter was this mottled brown marble, the floor was entirely made of faux-wood, the walls were clean and had big empty spaces, presumably for art. So Arthur bought art, for the first time in his life. He wasn’t really sure what made art good art, so he just picked ones he liked at a local auction. Then he bought new furniture, letting the sales people at a local store tell him what would fit well in the condo as he described it. They did a good job too, without ever seeing the place. He hired movers and a designer to place it all and make it all come together. If he’d tried to do it himself it’d probably be a disaster. Arthur filled the shelves with wines and liquor, and bought lots of new pairs of clothes, making the conscious decision to buy mostly dark clothes. Then he bought three new guns. One to carry, one for the apartment, and one to keep in the car. The strangest purchase, although maybe the best, was a bundled wrap of stakes from a local gardening store.

  At some point, Arthur realized how excessive this all felt compared to the very modest, simple lifestyle he had before. He considered that maybe he should try to save some of the money, or invest, or do something more financially sound with it. But re-assessing the bank account after all these purchases, he had only cut through about a third of it. It gave him a sense of power, having so much money. It made sense now why so many of these vampires only seemingly cared about getting ahead. Money could get you a lot of things, and when you could only be active half of each day and had to watch your back constantly, lots of money probably made both those things easier. And just like those vampires, a week or two post-furnishing Arthur realized that the only way he could keep all of this is if he continued doing a good job for Bartolome. So, after long needed rest, recuperation, and less needed gratuitous spending, Arthur gave Saint a call and let him know he was ready to get back to work.

  Saint even elected to meet him at his new place, which Arthur was more than happy to oblige.

  Just before midnight, Saint showed up with Benny, to Arthur’s surprise. As they entered his condo, Arthur felt proud of what he had to show them, despite the fact that all of it pretty much had more or less come from Saint. It was like showing your boss how much money your newest paycheck held. That didn’t bother Arthur though, and it didn’t seem to bother Saint. In fact, as the three of them were taking a short tour and looking around, chatting and laughing, Arthur had a nasty thought cross his mind. Benny was commenting about something or other, and as Arthur looked over all he could think about was how ugly and distasteful Benny was compared to the clean beauty of his new condo. He realized he was staring, and had to physically shake himself out of the stupor. Benny hadn’t seemed to notice.

  Arthur’s thoughts disassociated from the conversation. He realized he’d changed. He’d never had cruel and unusual thoughts like that before. Something was different. Not just from the spending, but ever since he started working for Bartolome. His attitude was just a byproduct. The worst part was, it had barely even registered at first. Arthur looked at Benny again. His friend, or at least colleague, who had done nothing but help him, even before he’d met Saint. Right now, he still felt a small hint of contempt. Arthur shook his head, trying to clear the insidious thought out of his head.

  Saint and Benny sat down on one of his new, expensive black couches and placed a laptop on the table in front of Arthur.

  “Hey!” Arthur practically snapped at Benny.

  Benny raised one, twisted eyebrow at him, “Uh, yeah?”

  “You-, I mean. Nothing, continue.”

  Benny gave him a confused look, but continued setting his laptop out on the table. Arthur sat down across from him and Saint. What the fuck is wrong with you? He asked himself.

  “Good thing you’re ready to work again Arthur,” Saint said. “Check this out.”

  He turned the laptop to Arthur. It was a video feed of the inside of Syndrome, apparently on a very busy night. The camera was recording the lounge upstairs, which like the main floor was full of people. Claudia walked into frame, wearing another one of her usually seductive dresses, and she was putting on a perfectly practiced smile as she chatted with some of the more important club go-ers. As he watched, someone very tall walked into frame behind Claudia, her face obscured.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She wore a smart, conservative dress, and as Arthur saw her short blonde hair he knew who it was before he’d even seen her face. Even through the video feed, Arthur knew that in her little hand purse she was carrying a gun, but the confidence she carried herself with implied she’d never need one. As she came into frame, next to Claudia, there were two others with her, who looked like bodyguards of some sort. Not Feral’s, but more professional looking.

  “Persephone knows about the club?” Arthur asked.

  “Yup,” Benny said in his scratchy voice. Fortunately, that strange, uncharacteristic disdain had faded and Arthur looked at Benny like he’d always had. A useful, kind, friend. “You know who the other two are?” Benny asked.

  Arthur shook his head. “They don’t look familiar, but I’d recognize Persephone anywhere.”

  “Fortunately for you, I found some stuff out,” Benny said. “Neither of them are Ferals. One of these guys,” Benny said pointing at the screen, his twisted finger tapping the image, “Is a contractor of sorts. Has a track record for a lot of hit jobs and other dangerous shit. Been around for a hot minute too, apparently he’s over two hundred.”

  “Years old? That doesn’t sound good,” Arthur said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Saint said, musing over the video feed. “It means we’re going to have to be more careful now. Persephone is getting serious. Guessing she heard about Lewis taking that guy out at the bar, and thinks we were involved somehow. What I don’t get still is why the fuck the Ferals are working for her. They usually don’t listen to anyone.”

  Benny tapped a key on the laptop and the feed continued playing. It was clear Persephone was there to speak to Claudia. From the grainy images, Claudia appeared to not be expecting her. They talked for a bit, and she laughed at something Persephone said. It was impossible to see Persephone’s reaction, the camera was only picking up the back of her head. But shortly after the laugh, Claudia became more serious as they continued discussing. It didn’t last much longer after that, and shortly after Persephone left the club. For just half a frame, Persephone’s face was visible in the image. From this perspective, she looked cold, distant, and determined. Arthur stared at the frame. It was strange. Persephone was out to kill him, and he out to kill her. But despite her curt, borderline rude attitude towards him, in this shot of the frame she just looked…undisturbed. Like she was just doing her job.

  “Claudia says she showed up out of nowhere,” Benny said. “Claudia didn’t even realize who she was at first, she claims. Apparently they were trying to get Claudia to sell you out, Arthur,” Benny said, just a little too unconcerned. As if in that moment he wouldn’t have cared if Arthur had been sold out. Arthur grimaced.

  “She declined, obviously,” Benny said, “Played an uninvolved third party well, as she usually does. Unfortunately we didn’t get a whole lot of information out of any of it. Probably on purpose, knowing how elusive Persephone is.”

  This time, Saint looked at Benny, speaking up. “Ok, so why the fuck are you showing us this?”

  “Patience, amigo,” Benny said with a grin. He reached into his back pocket, retrieving a wallet and from it what appeared to be a business card. He handed the card to Saint. “See anything unusual?”

  From the other side of the table, Arthur could see there wasn’t a lot on the card. It was all black, with some sort of red symbol in the middle, and some writing scribbled at the bottom. After a moment, a look of realization crossed Saint’s face.

  “What the…where’d you get this Benny?” Saint said, turning to him, his face going dark. “And don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

  Benny raised his hands, “Woah, woah. Why do you think I’m here, showing you this? Persephone gave it to Claudia. Just told her you’d want to see it. Told her, to tell you it was a gift. I’m doing you a favor bringing it to you.”

  Saint glared at Benny, but flicked the card across the table to Arthur. The little red symbol in the middle was what appeared to be three jagged slash marks. At the bottom was an address, and a phone number.

  Arthur shrugged, “I don’t get it.”

  “That,” Saint said, tapping the symbol, “Is the mark of the Claws.”

  Arthur raised an eyebrow, “So…Persephone is a Claw? That doesn’t make sense. Does it? Why is she giving us her address?”

  “Not quite,” Benny said, a grin across his face.

  “This address,” Saint explained, “Is the address we were given as a hit mark. A long, long time ago when we arrived in Longley. It was the whole reason Bartolome brought us all here. That address is where we’d find our kill target.”

  “You were sent here to kill a Claw?”

  Saint nodded, “We didn’t know it at the time. All we knew was the mark was supposed to be dangerous. It took a long ass time to track him down too, and this was his place,” he said, tapping the address on the card.

  “So…holy shit.” Arthur said. Saint was cursing under his breath. Benny was grinning wickedly, like he was enjoying them coming to the same realization. “The hand. The fucking hand. It completely passed my mind at the bar. It had a tattoo, on the knuckles. C L A W. Persephone killed a fucking Claw. But…I don’t get it, why send the evidence to you? Especially if it was your target?”

  Saint shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Why the fuck did they go after him?”

  Arthur shrugged, “Could be a million reasons. Personal. Maybe just a coincidence. Maybe it was just bad timing and she got to him before you did.” Arthur rubbed his chin trying to consider the possibilities, as he realized Benny hadn’t said a thing this whole time, and continued to sit there with a grin on his face. Arthur narrowed his eyes, “What aren’t you telling us Benny?”

  “Hey, hey,” Benny said defensively. “I know a lot, but I’m not a fortune teller. I just think it’s funny.”

  “Think what’s funny?” Saint growled.

  “I think it’s funny this chick is pushing in on your territory,” Benny said with a shrug.

  Saint looked like he was about to jump at Benny, Arthur having to hold a hand out to stop him. “Woah, relax. Stop being an ass, Benny. What are you talking about?”

  “I mean,” Benny said, packing up his laptop, “Everyone knows you and your Soldado’s as the big bad boogeymen in town who will come after you in the middle of the night. Looks like someone else got to your target first. Maybe the boogeyman ain’t so bad after all.”

  Saint was already up off the sofa, a knife in his hands, looking like he was about to lunge as Benny stumbled back over the couch.

  “Hey!” Arthur shouted, “Saint! Stop, man. It’s just Benny, he’s just being an asshole.”

  Saint looked at Arthur, then at Benny, flicking the knife back closed. “Better be careful what comes out your mouth, Benny. Just cus’ we pay you for this type of shit doesn’t mean you get to say stupid shit to my face.”

  “Sorry, my bad. Arthur’s right, I’m just messin’ around,” Benny said, clutching his bag, moving towards the door of the condo. “I’m just sayin’ man. This kinda stuff starts to get out, your reputation might not hold up.” Before Saint could lunge at him again Benny was out the door.

  After standing there in silence, Saint finally spoke. “Little fucker.”

  “He’s right, though,” Arthur said carefully. “For whatever reason, Persephone is muscling in on us. But, why did she call it a gift?”

  “Being a bitch, probably,” Saint spat. “If she wants to try to make a fool out of us, swiping our mark from out underneath us…she’s going to pay for that shit. Nobody makes a fucking idiot of me.”

  Arthur just shook his head. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right with all this.”

  “Look bro, you sit here and wonder about shit, I’m going to go get shit done. This puta can’t run around town doing whatever the fuck she wants. Once you decide to nut the fuck up, you let me know.”

  Saint stormed out of the apartment. Arthur rolled his eyes, locking the door after him. I thought I had issues.