[h3]Six Months Earlier[/h3] Adam looked up as Ren entered his room. The man never knocked unless others were watching; Adam had come to expect it. “There is a girl in your office” he said still standing stiffly but speaking in the familiar tone he used when he and Adam were alone. Adam frowned. “My office? Whatever for?” It was really his father’s office, he rarely used it except to meet formally with members. Even then he preferred to use one of the ubiquitous sitting rooms. “No idea sir.” Adam blinked. “How did she get there?” “No idea sir.” “Who is she?” “No idea sir.” Adam shook his head. “Lets try this differently Ren. What do you know about her?” Ren smiled. “You taught me that to find the right answer you must first ask the right question. Did you forget your own lessons already?” Adam smiled and leaned back in his chair and waited. His valet was very candid with him; when he wanted to be. He could also be frustratingly evasive and proper. Ren continued. “I’ve never seen her before and wouldn’t have seen her now if she hadn't been pointed out to me by Janek. He sensed her and informed me. She is a Talent by the way and he has never seen her before. Since she didn’t do much prowling around I can only assume she is actually looking for you. She’s been sitting in your office for at least a quarter of an hour now.” “Why did you let her in?” asked Adam reasonably. “Seemed like your kind of puzzle sir” said Ren with one of his very rare grins. He knew his master well, the man liked nothing so much as a good puzzle. Adam considered letting his Talent walk the pattern with him. Janek was one of the strongest aura talents in the society; he recognized people based on Aura’s which in his view were as unique as fingerprints. He was also incredibly lazy so unless the woman had happened to have been here before or one of the few cigar and brandy stores that Janek could be bothered to visit it would have been unlikely he had previously encountered her anyway. It was also no surprise he told Ren rather than investigate himself. Adam was pretty sure the manor could be on fire and Janek would be loathe to move himself from his chair. “Very well. I’ll go see what she wants. Should be interesting at least.” He had already guessed some, parts of the pattern gleamed in his mind, but he didn’t trust it yet. Best solution was to be direct. He rose to leave then paused. “Ren, how far did she get before Jezek spotted her?” “Are you sure you wish the answer to that sir?” Adam frowned. Clearly she had gotten further than he would have liked. “Tell Jezek I will want to see him when I am done. Can’t have strangers just wandering around the manor.” **** It had almost been too easy. Almost. The mansion of the Ianus Family was certainly not as much of a challenge to get into as she had first assumed, nor had it been the easiest one, however. It had been a fun little game, if anything, weaving in and out of bushes and trees on the outside, creeping down corridors and and distracting drowsy guards before sneaking past them. The light of the moon shone through the window, illuminating the old office. Lucie Ruzicka currently stood in the office of the head of the Society, wearing a set of dark leather garments and trousers, serving dual purposes of hiding her in the dark and offering some protection should she get in a fight. Not that she expected to get into one. This place wasn’t one with fighters, as far as she’d been able to find out. It was researchers and scholars who lived here, alongside whatever staff was employed. A scratching sound filled the air, followed by a flickering of a newly lit fire. Lucie held up the match, looking for some kind of electric lighting. She found a switch not far from the large desk and almost absentmindedly flicked it with a finger. The light revealed Lucie as she was: Tall, for a woman, with long chestnut hair that fell to the middle of her back, and full lips underneath her amber eyes and straight nose. She smiled in satisfaction and neared one of the many bookcases, the light reflecting in her amber eyes as she looked for something that stood out, or at least seemed something interesting. She found one tome, bound in dark leather that seemed older than the others, a low coo passing from the woman’s lips, her interest peaked. She reached up with a gloved hand, plucking the tome from its place. The book in hand, she walked over to the large chair behind the desk, sitting down and opening the book. It turned out that the book she’d found was a detailed description of chemistry, how certain chemicals reacted with one another, and the results that could ensue from blending two together. The practical applications weren’t of much interest to Lucie Ruzicka at the moment, instead she simply did her best to absorb as much as she could, a content expression falling over her features as she let herself relax for the first time in a long while. She had managed to read what. she assumed to be, fifty or so pages of the book before the sound of footsteps approaching from outside the door, in the hallway. The door opened opened shortly after, prompting Lucie to look up. A man, approximately the same height as herself, had stepped in; white hair, and eyes of two colours. She stood up, closing the book with a snap, then smiled. “Good evening.” Adam inclined his head politely out of an automatic habit. His face reflected nothing but his eyes swept the room in a quick gaze, letting the patterns burn briefly in his mind, before focusing his gaze, and his Talent, on the slim woman before him. Woman wasn’t the right term, at least not in Adam’s eyes. She was not much more than a girl. He wasn’t great at gauging age, people tended to age so differently, but he pegged her as a couple years shy of 20. That was more surprising than anything else. His thoughts flowed swiftly along the pattern; young, Talented, controlled...an interesting puzzle indeed but perhaps no longer a welcome one. He kept his voice cordial as he spoke. “Good evening Miss. I am told you were looking for me? If it is chemistry you are interested in I am not your man. It lacks a certain spark in my mind; just not enough to hold my interest. Perhaps you were misled?” “That is hardly the case,” Lucie mused, walking over to the bookcases again and placing the tome back where she’d found it. She turned around, hands behind her back as she stepped closer to the newcomer, her expression and posture relaxed, non threatening, and—most importantly—not afraid or even nervous. “While I have no particular interest in chemistry, I find it interesting enough to simply read about it. Though it is true that I was looking for you, the head of the Ianus Family, and the Society.” She finally stepped within reach, pulling off one glove and extending her hand in greeting, amber eyes fixated on the two colours of the other. Her hands were, despite her calling, surprisingly delicate. No obvious calluses or scars; evidence that she had taken great care to avoid wounds on her hands and fingers. The smiled stayed on her lips as she, simply, waited. Her actions, and words, confirmed further suspicions he had about her. But it was the word “Society” that stuck in his head. His voice lost what little warmth it had held up to this moment. “I think not” he said coldly as he glanced at her outstretched hand. “You possess a Talent of an unknown nature, you break into my home, settle into my office without so much as a by-your-leave, and decline to give your name, or any name really, by way of introduction. No, we are strangers and thus shall discourse as such.” He should have remained standing, manners dictated such, but he was done being polite. It was time to be blunt. He moved past her and took his father’s chair behind the desk. He gestured at the woman to sit in one of the other chairs if she wished, but he didn’t particularly care if she did. “Now then let us not be mealy mouthed about things. You are a skilled rogue and Talent. You know things about this home and myself I don’t wish known by the average person. And you have connections in the bustling underworld of our fair city. I can only conclude that you want something; money, or secrets, or power perhaps?” Adam’s deductions might have seemed startling and his words somewhat crass; few things were as ungentlemanly as the discussion of extortion; but he didn’t want to play games and the safety of the Society came first. If she was a simple thief he would pay her off, but somehow he doubted that was what she was after. Lucie’s eyebrows rose, not only at the cold tone of voice, but also at being spurned like she had. Her eyes followed him as he walked to the chair she had previously occupied, lips pursing in thought over what he had said, and what he continued to say afterwards. She turned around to face him, opting to take the seat offered her.Maybe following along would make him warm up to her? Make him less suspicious. She didn’t show much surprise at his deductions, the only thing being the one eyebrow that rose again in some minor show of her not having expected this. “And here I thought I had managed to gain entry without so much as discovery, and yet you seem to know a great deal about me already. And, if I may, you never asked my name, so I have yet to decline revealing it.” She smiled at that, corner of her lips tugging upwards. “You are right on some accounts, though, I am a skilled rogue—though perhaps skilled is a slight understatement—and I do have a ‘Talent’ as you call it. On the other two accounts, however, you are somewhat mistaken. I don’t [i]have[/i] connections to the underworld of this fair city.” The polite smile on her lips turned somewhat mischievous at this. “It is rather difficult for a dead person to have connections to the world of the living, no? As for your last assumption, that one is likely the most incorrect of them all. I want neither money, secrets, or power. I already have all of those, more than I know what to do with. What I want is a membership of this place.” She let the words hang in the air, polite expression on her face as the mischievous smile returned to normal, her eyes sparkling in something akin to delight. It looked as if she was enjoying it: This small game of words. “I see” he said in a non-comittial voice as she finished. Adam leaned back in his chair, his eyes watching her closely. So maybe she was still an interesting puzzle. There were worse things. She could be lying to him of course. She was good enough to be able to do so without detection and he didn’t have a truthsayer. He decided right now to play the cards as dealt. “You clearly know my name. It would be common courtesy to share yours with me. On the other hand I have been less than courteous so we will table that issue for now. And you might be surprised at what the dead can accomplish with the right connections.” He didn’t bother to ask her her name at the moment, he assumed she would simply give him a fake one, he would have in her shoes, so it would be of little use anyway. The second comment was an oblique reference to a few of the members; mediums in the traditional sense were fraudulent but that did not mean spirits didn’t have a foothold in this world. There was more than one member who could converse with certain dead; and it was almost universally annoying. “Now for the really important question. Why do you want membership?” He wasn’t sure what she thought she could gain out of it; he knew what he could gain. But he was curious what she expected. What sort of “society” did she think they were? “On the contrary,” Lucie said calmly, inspecting the nails on her un-gloved hand. “I don’t know your name. I know [i]of[/i] you, your appearance, and your position, but not your name.” The polish she’s applied to them this morning still held, painting them a warm shade of red. She put her glove back on; they were thin ones, good for little more than looking pretty or slightly warming the hands in the autumn when it had yet to get truly cold. She looked back up at the head of the Society, the lamp’s light reflecting in those amber eyes of hers. She sat up straighter and, now that things seemed to have become somewhat more polite, offered an easy smile. “If you don’t mind, let us wait with the questioning until we at least have completed the introductions.” She extended her hand to him—still gloved—and said, ”Lucie Ruzicka.” She saw no reason to hide her name. No one would believe him if he claimed that she was still alive. There were far too many people claiming otherwise, and the rumours across town that she had met with the Reaper were spread too far to be stopped by a single account her of supposedly still living. “Very well.” said Adam his voice still cool, but he seemed resigned to be polite in spite of it. He was beginning to wish his father were here, the mystery of the girl was fine at first but enough of the puzzle pieces had fallen into place she was now less intriguing. He extended a hand for the exactly proper pale handshake that was expected. “Adam Ware. Now can we get back to why you want to be a member here? Forgive me but you don’t seem the type to spend hours in study and contemplation of esoteric things. I suspect you would rapidly grow bored and we need more...” he searched for a word “committed members.” In the second that their hands had touched, albeit through the thin glove, Lucie’s let her skills run free, though without keywords. Her expression changed to something similar to the cat who caught the canary. It was gone just as quickly, being little more than eyes widening slightly, smile widening. She wiped the expression off of her face, forcing her features to calm and not show too much outward emotion. In this situation, it could jeopardize far too much. She leaned back in the chair, putting her hands in her lap. “As to my reasons for wanting to join, it’s quite simple: I want to be part of something where I can use my skills in a way that does not cost the lives of people.” Her tone of voice was simple, calm, and factual. No feelings or thoughts exposed. She was giving up simple information, nothing more. “My entire life has been blood and sweat, and I have grown weary of it. Though I still enjoy the thrill of discovery, and trying to stay hidden, I have no lust for blood. I would only shed it should the cost for not doing so be the life of my or someone innocent.” She paused for a moment, gauging the other’s reaction. “Not only am I skilled at sneaking and, as you might have guessed, stealing, but I also excel at information gathering, as you might have already guessed—” she lowered her voice with the next words, lips curving into an impish smile “—Miss Adeleia.” Adam stared steadily at her for many minutes, his strange eyes unblinking, as he measured the young woman before him. She didn’t seem to be lying. And he now had a very good grasp of her abilities as well as her history. The maze which had been forming in his psychic consciousness gleamed as the path emerged and the pattern drew together. A talented thief always had value; many wealthy folk didn’t realize just how much information and goods were obtained this way. He had no doubt this woman could make her way in the world without the aid of the Society. She clearly wanted something more in her life. Maybe she would fit here. Finally he spoke, keeping his voice calm. “That name is no more mine than you are your father’s daughter” he said cryptically though his voice was very cold. He was not a woman. He may have a female body, but that did not make him female. Explaining this, however, was almost always completely impossible and he would not do it for a stranger. When he continued speaking his voice held none of the slight amusement it had at the beginning of their encounter, now it was all business. “Your talents could be valuable, and I might be able to offer you some more stimulating activities. But the society is known for lots of very mundane uninteresting research as well. Somehow I suspect you might find that part...tedious. So I will ask...are you sure you are interested?” Lucie pouted, a childish thing to do, but nonetheless it reflected her thoughts. [i]How boring.[/i] She’d expected more of a reaction—surprise, at the very least—but the lack of any sort of change in demeanor aside from the tone of voice took out much of the fun. Regardless, her pout morphed into a small, self-assured smile, as she said, “In which case I assume that name is very much yours. However I suppose I should call you Adam, correct? While not your given name, it is the one I suspect you prefer.” She adorned a more serious expression, then, resolving to cease the games and get the business over with—though there was still a slight upturn in the corner of her lips. “What is interesting is often up to the individual. I enjoy reading, no matter the topic, and even if I am no scholar I can assure you that I am more than capable of gathering information from a variety of sources. If need be I can write and compile reports, although my expertise lies in the field. Furthermore,” she met Adam’s mismatched eyes with her own amber ones, not unkind, but businesslike, “I have plans for setting up certain—legal—investments. I have access to a minor fortune of my own money, and intend to use them to set up a small chain of investments for a steady income. If the Society has needs for it, I am willing to provide donations in times of need.” The look on her face betrayed no intentions of underlying motives, or even a lure for the head of the society. It was simply an offer, nothing more, nothing less. Leaning back in a chair he thought on her reply, turning the words over as if looking for a flaw. He was quiet so long that it almost seemed as if he had fallen asleep, except his eyes never left the woman in front of him. Finally he nodded quickly as he came to a decision and pushed himself upright. He opened a nearby drawer, pulled out a ledger, and glanced at it. “My name is Adam” he said addressing her earlier comment. “Indeed it suits me well. You will have to forgive me if in the future I refrain from personal contact. We all have secrets worth protecting. Worth dying for. Worth killing for. However I do think you could fit well here if you find the society’s goals compatible with your own. Keep your money; my own investments are plenty; I’m rather good at them you see. Besides it is much easier to remain happily dead with plenty of legal income.” It had been that, more than anything else, that had convinced Adam. He didn’t take kindly to people who pried unwelcomely into his personal affairs. But he had a soft spot for women who were reinventing themselves. And psychomotrists were always valuable. “We have an open room which can be your personal quarters, and I will have my valet show you there once we are done. Very well Miss…” He looked expectantly at her. After all he didn’t expect her to use her real name either. But now they could get this settled in a relatively efficient manner. A wave of relief washed over Lucie’s face, wiping away the stoic mask of the chess master, and all the stress and worry that came with it. In its place was the face of a young, beautiful woman, who seemed to be relieved more than anything else. She let out a breath she seemed to have been holding almost the entire time, and reached for the hand proffered her. “Lucie Ruzicka,” she said once more. “A pleasure to meet you, and thank you for allowing me to stay.” Perhaps for the first time that evening, she sounded entirely genuine, as one would expect of any other girl her age. She stood up and turned towards the door leading out, but turned around first. “If I may say something before I leave, the investments I was talking about are entirely legal. I already have a deal with a small time jeweller who recently started his own shop, as well as a small inn in the poorer districts of town. They’re but the first, but entirely legal.” She smiled. “My past may be smudged and dirty, but that does not mean my future will have to be… Speaking of past, I do not know if it means anything to you, but so long as you give me no reason to, your secret is safe with me.” She bowed her head, curtsied, and slipped out the door, moving as a shadow more than a person. Outside, the valet of which Adam had spoken waited for her, leading her to her room. [h3]Present Day[/h3] Lucie Ruzicka could’ve sworn she was cursed. It seemed that every time she had somewhere to go, or someplace to be, she got lost in the world of whatever book had caught her fancy that day, forgetting the time and finding herself late. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, or what she had to do: She almost always found herself late. [i]I have let this easy life get to me. I should be on my toes to move at any time.[/i] She’d forgotten the time and was now late for the breakfast summons she had been given earlier that morning. She weaved through the maze of corridors that was the manor, having memorized just about every nook and cranny in the time she’d been here, hurrying as best she could to the dining room. She stopped outside the doors, smoothing her dress out, and checking to see that nothing was out of place. She wore a floor-length toga-like dress which left her arms and shoulders exposed, white of colour, and tight enough that it showed off some of the curvature of her body. The way it wrapped around her chest and back gave it a neckline high enough to only reveal her collarbone, and nothing more. She’d chosen a pair of simple, heeled sandals, not caring much for what to walk in, as they would be unseen due to the dress regardless. It was almost scandalous for this time and age, not that she cared. People were far too prudish in this day and age, acting as if the mere sight of bare skin or even slightly tight clothes were a horror in and of itself. She’d had to have it custom made for her a while back, having grown bored with the dresses currently in fashion. The look on the seamstress’ face when she’d shown her a sketch of what she wanted had been priceless. A quick touch told her that her earrings—coin-sized silver loops—were both in place. They had been one of the items she had been given from the jewellry store she had invested in half a year back, and who now had a stable business. He had allowed her to take one piece of jewellry for free each month, on top of the quarterly cut she received. She let out a breath, and walked in. She could see the others already conversing and eating, and so moved as quietly as she could, which—considering her previous profession—was very quiet. Despite her heels and white dress, she moved as a shadow over to the others, listening in as they spoke. She stopped beside the one woman in the room taller than her—Aleksandra was her name, if she wasn’t mistaken—no longer trying to hide herself or mask her presence. Her brows had furrowed at the news, but one in particular had seemed to call out to her: The disappearance of men in the slums. It would be a lie if she claimed to not already believe that one of the criminal lords were behind this, but as it was she couldn’t be sure. “I’ll take on the missing men,” she said aloud, looking towards Adam. “I believe, out of all of us, I am the best qualified for this task in particular. I know the underbelly of this city like the back of my hand. Who to talk to, and how. If need be, my Talent will be able to point us in the right direction from just the smallest of leads. That is my hope, at least.”