Master of the Storm

Chapter Twenty Two: Ex-Lovers

New character alert! Also sorry for all the time between updates I'm doing a bunch of other writing projects rn (this series is still my baby though)

"What do we do?" I whispered. "Are they moving?"

"They left my line of sight," Beatrix said. "I think it was a woman? Definitely someone wearing a leather jacket."

"What does that tell us?" I asked.

"That it's not Thomas," she replied.

I heard the small bell that rang when the door opened go off, and turned to look in spite of myself. It was a woman, around Beatrix's height but at least fifteen years older, with shoulder length dark brown hair, and a black leather jacket, and she was approaching us.

"What do we do?" I hissed at Beatrix. "She's coming right at us!"

It was too late to run, so we let her come up and stand in front of our booth. "Hey stalker," Beatrix said. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk," the woman promised. "I'm not a threat."

Beatrix's eyes flicked over to me. The last thing we wanted to do was make a scene and draw attention to ourselves, which we had talked about on the way.

"Okay, we'll talk," she said smoothly. "Take a chair from an empty table."

The woman dragged over a chair, and sat down with us. "Why are you here?" I asked. "Have you been following us?"

The woman sighed. "Yes, I have. But like I said, I'm not a threat. I just want to ask you some questions-"

"We ask the questions," Beatrix said coldly. "Who are you? Oh don't look at her, look at me," she continued, as the woman's eyes flicked over to me.

"I'm here because I'm concerned," she said. "And I know who you are. You're not doing a very good job at hiding yourselves, going to public places, walking around the city, using your powers openly."

"What powers?" I asked, trying to sound confused without overdoing it. The woman rolled her eyes, and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, opening a video and holding it in front of me.

It was the blurry, phone camera video that was going around the internet at the moment, of me sending cars flying during the chase.

"That's not me," I said calmly.

She blinked. "That's not you?"

"Nope," I continued. "It's too blurry for you to think it was me! It could be anyone."

"This video is bad quality, yes," she said. "Because it was recorded on a cell phone by a civilian. But security footage won't be. You know there's cameras outside some of the stores you passed?"

Okay, that was a problem. But most problems had solutions. I was sure I could find one for this.

"There's a price on your head," she told me. "On you as well," she told Beatrix.

"I know," Beatrix snapped. "Accomplice to murder, blah blah blah. There's no proof."

"That's not all there is on you two," she said. "The FBI has quite a case on you. The murder isn't the focus at the moment, it's practically a cold case, but mostly, it's the disappearance of Cashlin Clayus, who is presumed dead though a body was never found."

"Let me guess, you think I killed her," I said.

"No, actually. I personally think she killed herself. But my team thinks it was Beatrix."

Beatrix's jaw dropped. "What? I didn't do shit to her!"

"That's not very believable defence," she replied. "You have a long record, Beatrix. Juvenile misdemeanours, maybe, but you're down for several counts of robbery and possession from before you even came to the orphanage. I could probably get you off, but I don't have a reason to, because quite frankly you're dangerous, and you were probably involved somehow in whatever happened with Alyssa, intentional or not. Why else would you two run?"