Dark Heart Dawning

[Persephone]

[1:49 AM]

Persephone had instructions to follow, and she would get to them eventually. For the moment, she had explained to Verity that there was one person she wanted to give a head start to. She expressed that he was her only friend, and that she wanted to get him far enough away from the epicenter of destruction so that he would not be caught up in the blast. Verity had agreed, reluctantly, but she understood the need for her felines to have friends outside of Midnight. Kronos had no need for them, but Xavier and Persephone both had made odd choices - her precious tiger had become taken with a hunter, one whom Verity would have enjoyed meeting first-hand in more polite circumstances. She was interested to see who had stolen his heart from her. Persephone had made friends with her Darren long before - her wildcat, she called him. She seemed quite happy when the topic of him came up, and like Xavier, did not relish the idea of caging and breaking her companion. Verity felt as though all of her darling cats were leaving her, but when they returned every evening and brushed her cheeks with genuine kisses and inquiries about her day, she knew she had little to worry about.

So Persephone had her permission, her one-chance Charlie ticket out of town. She didn't know if Darren would take it. He was stubborn, but she would try. She approached the bar, noticing how busy they were, and wondered how much of the fallout the Triste's magic would resist. She wagered a good portion, but she didn't think all of them would get away unscathed. She knew that there was a Vida also. She hoped they could manage. She had seen what her Verity was capable of, so she knew what damage a Triste could do when provoked. Persephone leaned on the bar, a cigarillo twisted in her lips. She loved the European cigarettes - Kronos had brought some back for her, a treat. She wore only a black tank top and fited blue-jeans, that olive-coloured animal print duster her only means of fighting off the chill. Lucky Persephone enjoyed the cold.

"Hello, playmate," she said in her clipping accent, smiling at Darren and focusing her neon green eyes his way. "I need to borrow you for a moment."

Persephone had still shocked him with her not-crazy persona, and she would take his hesitation into consideration before making him come with her. Hopefully he was ready for a break; she already saw the wheels in his head turning as he looked for Anthony, the tawny wolf Persephone knew now by name.

[Darren Liten]

Darren had started out the night in a nice, dark-colored button-up with a dark tank underneath, and the bar had been all his, but that had changed pretty drastically.  Now, his button-up was dangerously close to being yanked off, unbuttoned and opened as much as he could get it without actually losing it.  He'd made plans to relinquish it to Heather once she arrived, so that he could go catch a few drinks with Paris and then hopefully allow the night to devolve into ridiculous lemur sex.  It'd been a little longer than usual since they'd been able to make time for a night of drink and sex, so he was looking forward to it, and Heather was way late.  If they hadn't gotten busy two hours before, so busy that Ash had descended from the office upstairs to help in the kitchen and bar as he was needed, and Anthony had shed his leather jacket and slipped behind the bar so that Darren wasn't completely overwhelmed.  They were okay with busy, but this was alarmingly so, to the point that if a problem had arisen, Darren wasn't so sure that they could have taken it without Ash intervening and putting someone, or a few someones, on their asses.  He and Anthony were just so mobbed that getting through to any troublemakers would have put them in some serious shit.  There were also way more supernaturals, some of them powerful, than Darren liked in the bar at any given time.  It wasn't a good situation, not if anything at all went sour.

Then, he smelled her.  Somehow, in all the chaos, he smelled her first, then heard her clipped accent as she leaned in against the bar near where he was pouring about four beers.  It still creeped him out to hear, and see, her as anything other than the crazy, but somehow endearing, jaguar who used to come in and want to play.  Now, he knew that she was smart as hell and probably still crazy, but not in the same way, and it freaked him out.  She'd been messing with him, and he still didn't understand why. 

"Well, that moment is going to have to wait, I think," he called over the taps, finishing filling the third, then moving onto the fourth, trying to keep from putting too much head in.  It was a delicate balance, not letting too much into the glass while still putting enough for appearances, and he was busy, so it was tempting to just walk away as the glass filled.  That wouldn't do, though.  "We've been slammed for hours, can't exactly walk away."

It had been easier to explain making allowances for Persephone before, when she'd been crazy in a way that suggested she didn't understand why he couldn't just pull himself away.  Now, it was a different story.  If he left Anthony alone, the wolf would never catch up.  "One second," he called, grabbing the glasses up and bringing them down the bar, where he pulled from a pile of bills the people sitting in those seats had set out.  They'd been lucky, getting those stools.  For everyone else, he had to grab bills out of their hands in the air, then grab drinks, and he did that with another order before returning to where Persephone was to pour a Miller draft and some shots.  "What's up?"

The best he could offer right then was to talk while he worked, since he'd glanced over at Anthony and just didn't see himself getting away.  He still didn't know where Heather was, but the phone had been ringing off the hook, and he couldn't exactly take the time to get to it. 

[Persephone]

 She watched him tend to his tedious job for a few seconds, and then she proceeded without his permission. She reached out, flipped the little door up and walked behind the bar, blocking him from moving any further, and from her expression and body language, he would be able to infer that if he dumped beer on her, she'd make him sorry. She put a hand up and put it on his chest, stopping him from going forward, though she didn't grab a handful of his shirt like she was inclined to.

"No, now," she said. "It's important."

The way her voice curled around the words, making them so that nobody heard but Darren, was a talent she'd picked up from operating in Midnight's echoing halls. Her stance would have been threatening if she backed up another inch and changed the way she had her feet situated, but as it was, it wasn't drawing attention from anyone because everyone was too busy running around trying to get things done. Persephone glanced up, at the roof, presumably assessing how many more people were in the Hollow that she could not see - she'd be right to assume that Danielle was there, at the very least. She flicked her bright green eyes back to Darren, studying his face to see whether or not he was going to concede. If he didn't, she'd make him go, and he didn't really want that.

[Darren Liten]

His mind really was entirely on the job, focused and utterly involved in the internal list he had going on that told him who got what and in what order.  It was a delicate balance, one that required speed and the ability to shave seconds off of everything he did wherever he could, and suddenly Seph was behind the bar, in his space.  He seriously almost plowed into her with drinks in hand, and the only reason he didn't spill everything everywhere was because he was a cat, and way too in tune with that feline part of him.  He saved them, but shot her a sharp, irritated look as she planted her hand on his chest to stop him from moving.  He did not appreciate it. 

"Five seconds," he told her, slipping away to drop off the drinks he had in hand, and then he called into the kitchen for Ash, whose pale face was sweat-slicked as he glanced up from the stove.  "Need 30 seconds, Heather's still not here."

"I'll be out."

"Thanks," he said gratefully, gesturing to Anthony toward Ash, and the wolf gave him an unpleasant look that took in Persephone and obviously didn't trust her.  Darren wasn't going to wait for her to drag him over the bar, though. 

He stepped up after her, leaning in close enough to be heard over the crowd.  "Seriously, I have maybe a minute," he told her, grabbing his bottle of water on his way.  He was going to slug as much of it down as he could, since this was probably his only chance. 

[Persephone]

 Obviously satisfied with her victory, not that she wouldn't have grabbed him by the face and thrown him over the bar if he hadn't have complied right then, she smiled pleasantly and made hastily for the front exit. Once outside, she put her hand around his bicep, fingers curling forcibly as she literally dragged him away from the door and several feet back into the alley where nobody would see or hear them. She pulled something out of her back pocket, and held it out to him. It was a small envelope.

"Plane ticket. Credit card. Cell phone. Passport. You need to leave, right now, and head for LaGuardia. You can take my car, and you can give me the keys to yours. Park it in the lot and put the ticket in the center console; I'll retrieve it later. I'll park your car at your apartment. Paris is already at the airport waiting." She narrowed her eyes, smirking. "You didn't tell me she could read minds. She knew what I had to say before I knocked on the door." She paused. "I see she didn't call you, though. Good girl, follows directions. She's definitely worth keeping around."

Persephone leaned against the wall, arm up so as to obscure the view of anyone passing, keeping Darren almost entirely hidden.

"Before you ask, I can't tell you. All I can say is that you aren't safe, and you need to understand that if you stay, I cannot protect you. Your girlfriend is getting on that plane in two hours, whether you're with her or not, because I heard her consulting that witch doctor, and he's happy to have her out of the country for the next few days - or weeks. However long it lasts." She watched him, liquid emerald eyes so dilated by her pupils that they appeared almost a glowing ring, a halo around the black holes that bored into him.

[Darren Liten]

Persephone could be as satisfied with her temporary victory as she wanted to be, because victory wasn't entirely hers just yet.  She got him outside, then basically manhandled him into the alley, which was pissing him off.  He finally shrugged her grip off of his arm, the cool air doing wonders for cooling off his skin while her sudden orders had the exact opposite effect.  If she'd thrown this on him inside, he'd have probably reacted worse, it was true, but that didn't mean she was going to get a great reaction.

Obviously, he didn't know what the hell was going on with Midnight, but now she had him on guard in a way that had him seriously worried about those phone calls that they'd been missing and short with.  Someone had said that Connor had called for him.  Shit.

"WHAT?  Not safe?  What are you talking about?!  I need more than just a packet of travel requirements and some orders, Persephone," he told her sharply, glancing down at the envelope she'd shoved into his hands.  If she was trying to send him somewhere, said she 'couldn't protect him', then it was something big, and he knew she had her hands in Midnight.  If he was in danger with Midnight and she thought that sending Paris with him (not to mention Aristide agreeing), then it was bigger than just him.  He'd never really done anything worthy of attention from Midnight.  That made him think that there were other people in danger, and he was a hell of a lot more interested in them right then.  "What about Connor?  My parents?  How big is this thing?"

Here, he'd thought that Purezza was a problem.  Persephone hadn't ever gotten involved in THAT.  

[Persephone]

Persephone rolled her eyes. "Didn't I just say, 'I can't tell you'?" she asked, her tone every bit as aggressive as his. She wasn't allowed to tell him why, and so she wouldn't. "I don't know about your parents, or Connor, or whoever else you're connected to. This didn't start with you, you're just going to get caught up in it, and I know that for a fact." She wouldn't tell him that she'd seen lists with names and photos and addresses, because she wasn't supposed to divulge any of that to anyone, including him. She wondered if Xavier had been as good about not releasing information. Of course, she wasn't sleeping with Darren, either. He was attractive, but definitely a little too soft for her liking.

"It's so big that I've got shit I need to begin handling in the next few seconds, so if you don't want to make up your mind, I'll take my paperwork back and this will be the last time I'm sure I'll see you alive," she said bluntly. "Not to 'lack confidence' in your skills to defend yourself, but let's just say I'm glad I'm on the right side of this equation," she said. She glanced around the corner of the alley, where a drunk man was stumbling out of a bar, one of the men she'd sent to round him up his newfound drinking buddy. He could buy her a few more  minutes, but not much after that. She looked back at Darren.

"Listen, I put my ass on the line for this, so if you're not going to take my advice, I'm going to get moving." Persephone usually wasn't so gruff, or mean to Darren, but she really didn't have time to stay and make nice with him like usual.

[Darren Liten]

He didn't like it, not any of it, but it freaked him out that Persephone was even offering him this, and that Paris was supposedly already headed to or AT the airport, with Papa's blessing.  Darren hadn't heard anything about that man being wrong, basically ever.  If Papa approved, Darren figured that Ash needed to know, and getting himself out of dodge was a damn good idea.  He hated the idea that he was running, but she wasn't the only one lacking confidence in his abilities to defend himself.  Between Andrew and Connor, he could take on a hell of a lot more than he used to be capable of, but he wasn't Connor.  He also didn't know that everyone that knew Connor had lost contact with him.  That would have been even less encouraging.

"Fine, I'm going," he conceded, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but he squared his jaw, and made clear with the way he was no longer ready to shove the envelope back at her that he wasn't refusing.  "LaGuardia it is.  I'm calling Ash on my way, though."

That was his requirement.  He wasn't leaving the witch completely off-guard, nor was he refraining from calling Connor and the rest of his family.  He fished his keys out of his pocket and offered them to her, just as she'd asked. 

[Persephone]

 "Call whoever you want on your way, but don't tell anyone where you're going. Just tell them you're leaving. I can't take the chance that they've got all of your phones tapped, and I know for a fact I watched several calls go out myself earlier from people who aren't breathing any longer," she said. She took his keys with a snatching motion, and simultaneously tossed her keys at him with her other hand, the shiny duo making an arc and jingling softly.

She looked at him for a moment, fixed, and then seemed to snap out of it. How many of his relatives had she watched get dragged out of their houses, destroyed? How many of those matches had she personally struck? She'd never say. "Don't stop for anything. Treat red lights as four way stops. Take the direct route to the airport, not the back one. We've got men waiting for people to try and leave the country," she said wryly. "If anyone apprehends you, you tell them that you want to speak to Verity, and you tell them nothing else, regardless of what they say or do to you."

She held the keys up to the light and smirked, despite the situation. "A Corvette? I didn't figure you for a V8. Mine's the Porsche around the corner. There's a handgun under the seat, and a a Kevlar vest in the passenger seat. Put it on and get the fuck out of here."

No, Persephone really didn't take into consideration that people might not want to do what she said. If they didn't do it, she'd make them do it; and if she didn't feel like that, she'd let them die when they didn't listen. Either way, she kept a schedule about herself.

[Bacchus]

 When Persephone had said that Midnight had been waiting to sack people at the airport, she hadn't been kidding. They hadn't told her who it would be, though. If she'd have known it was Bacchus, she might have suggested that Darren travel by boat. As it was, he himself was not in the immediate area - Bacchus was too much of a jester with his control. It wasn't that he couldn't - he was old enough, clearly - it was that he wouldn't. Niall had come to terms with his old friend's lack of regard for life long ago, but since both of their abilities involved a touch of the crazy, who was he to say that what Bacchus did was bad PR for Midnight? He had a cult, one he'd managed to continue collecting for over a thousand years. Sure, they were human and they died, but more always found their way to the comforting and severe touch of the 'god' of pleasure and pain.

His cult members had been circling the terminals for hours, using the information Yvette was transmitting to them from the ticket kiosks to apprehend people as they left. There were so many of them that they'd taken to wearing uniforms, and more than one was posing as Homeland Security. That was the biggest victory Yvette had done for them thus far - as a technomancer, she had walked right into the airport's computers and provided them with everything they needed to know, including false identification cards that they could obtain. It was putting Midnight on the map in ways that Jeshickah never had, by using proactive force to advance their hand. She had, maybe, before the first fall, been so enthusiastic, but after it hadn't been the same.

As Darren came through, the man on the small cart driving with people's bags, as he had been doing mindlessly for hours, signaled the Bacchae on security. Once they sent the imagery to Yvette and the response had been a positive ID with a no kill order attached to it, they went through their motions. Darren would be allowed to get all the way to his gate before "Homeland Security" pulled him into a bleak waiting room with one entrance and exit and left him alone with nothing but a table and a chair.

[Darren Liten]

Well, she wasn't arguing with his requirements, so it wasn't like he was going to be arguing back.  He still didn't like the idea of running, probably never would, but her warning about the phones being tapped and people dying didn't sit well with him.  Even as he caught her keys and returned her smirk with a tight-lipped smile, he was thinking about his own family, both immediate and extended.  There were a lot of them, and he wasn't naive enough to think that they'd all be safe, so how many of them fell into the category that she'd mentioned?  Did she know details on any of them?

God, he didn't even want to know.  He had to call his parents, pronto, and just hope they were alive.  His mom was a leopard, just like he was, and his dad a hunter.  That meant they'd stand a good chance, right?  He wouldn't even ask, in case she shot it down. 

"Gets me around," he said simply, nodding to her instructions and trying to pretend that he didn't get the feeling from her stare like she was looking at him as though she wasn't sure she'd see him again, or something equally depressing.  He was just hoping he didn't get shot in the head on his way to the car.  That would be really anti-climactic.  "Right.  Guess I'll catch you around, then."

He wanted to ask if she could even try to look out for his parents and cousins, at the very least, but he figured he already knew the answer.  Persephone made no sense to him, especially now.  Before, when he'd thought she was crazy and didn't really comprehend things the way everyone else did, he'd been a little more okay with it.  Sure, she'd been with Midnight, but he didn't blame her and hadn't had to over-think things.  They were both cats, she showed up with the little ball to play, and that was that.  He liked her.  Now, it was all sorts of confusing because she wasn't as simple as he'd thought, he didn't understand why she'd played at being so crazy, and frankly?  He had absolutely no idea why she liked him the way she did.  It just didn't make sense that she'd help him.

"Thanks, Persephone.  I don't honestly know why you're doing this, but I appreciate it," he told her, straight up and honest, offering a wave with the hand that had the envelope in it as he turned for her car.  Maybe it was a conversation they could have after the crazy was over, if they ever had it.  He wasn't so sure they would.  Either way, he had to run.

The first thing he did was call Ash's private number, and he did get the witch, who got a rundown on the fact that Darren's cat friend, who Ash would know immediately, had pulled him and made him leave the area, that shit was going down with Midnight and people were dying.  He wouldn't have been surprised if Ash didn't shut everything down as soon as he got off the phone, especially considering how quick the witch was about ending the conversation.  Then, it was his parents, Connor, Chase, anyone he could get in touch with.  His parents and Connor didn't respond, but Chase did, and she had nothing good to say.  While he was driving to the airport, kevlar vest thrown on under his button-up and the gun in his lap, she let him know some of the people they'd lost contact with, including Connor and Victor, which just made his heart sink.  It was bad if those two were down.  He told her to let him know if anything changed, that he was on strict orders to get out, and she agreed that it was a good idea.  He got off the phone feeling like his entire world was falling apart, and getting into the airport didn't help.  He had no way of knowing how many of these people were running just like he was, or how many were working for the enemy, but he tried to put a normal face on.

It bothered him that he had to leave the gun in the car, but the kevlar stayed with him.  Yeah, he was likely to strike an odd image, heading in with no luggage and a bulletproof vest, but whatever.  She'd given him a credit card, so he got the message; buy what you need when you get there, and don't waste time going back home.  She'd stressed speed enough that he wasn't playing around, especially since he had a plane to catch.  If he was utterly honest with himself, he was both pleased and made more paranoid about the fact that he wasn't stopped the entire time he was in the airport.  He pulled the kevlar and his button-up off as he went through the line, dropping both in the basket at the metal detector, then putting them back on like it was an everyday thing, which seemed to work for them.  Apparently, there were other travelers that went with the kevlar, so he was fine getting through all the way to his gate.  By that point, he was starting to think that he was going to get out of there just fine, and his mind had turned to the positives about the situation.  Unplanned vacation with Paris, who was waiting on the plane for him.  He may have hated the circumstances, but the location and the company could have definitely been worse.

When 'Homeland Security' pulled him aside, he was pretty sure that the location and company did just get worse.  They didn't really react if they saw the run instinct that flashed through his eyes behind the pleasantly confused smile he plastered on his face, and he had the rush of uncertainty regarding what they were stopping him for.  Was it actually Homeland Security?  Maybe because of the vest?  Or was it Midnight and their people, trying to get him away from the crowd?  If it was really Homeland Security, he was screwed if he ran, so he really needed to go along with them, but Midnight made for different rules.  If it was Midnight, going along with them was suicidal.  Tossing the Verity comment out first thing was an idea, but Homeland Security would be likely to think that he was serious trouble if that was the case, and the only people that could pull enough strings to get him out of that mess were dead, dying and running for their lives.  He much preferred the idea of trying to make a run for it, if only because he'd rather die running than be taken alive and killed at their leisure because he'd gone along with their wishes quietly, but he had to trust that Persephone was right in telling him to ask for Verity and that it'd work.  He had to, because the alternative was taking off and hoping he beat the odds and got away.  He didn't see it working for him.

It left him in a damn waiting room with a table and a chair, hoping that they weren't planning on killing him with boredom.  The room itself was so stark that he wasn't even sure what team they were playing for, but the single entrance/exit didn't make him happy.  It meant he was trapped if someone unpleasant came in.  They'd taken his things, too, which meant no phone.  Big surprise there.

[Bacchus]

 Usually, Bacchus liked to handle things on his own, but for this instance, he allowed one of his Bacchae to do it for him. The room was empty save the table, and since they'd taken everything Darren had, he would have no choice but to literally sit around and do nothing. About five minutes passed before the door opened, and a late twenty-something woman stuck her head in the door. She was almost too pretty to be a security agent, but there was no real way of defining that. Given the looks of women that were in the hunting guilds, it would be no hard leap to assume that sometimes women that good looking could be in other fields of enforcement and service.

"It'll be just a minute," she said. She smiled, and there was a row of straight, white teeth behind her full lips. It was an insincere smile, but there was no real reason for him to think that - it was just... the way it felt. Her blue eyes didn't mirror the idea of a whole-hearted woman, that much was obvious. She closed the door again, and then nodded to another of the Bacchae. "Do it. Bacchus told us not to drag our feet," she said. She made a gesture to the man and then folded her arms, watching through the double-sided glass with narrowed eyes.

After a few seconds, the room began to feel with gas. This was the easiest way to do it, as far as she'd concluded, and she didn't want to risk failing. Bacchus didn't like failure. When the shifter had finally finished struggling, which hadn't made her flinch, by the way, she opened the door and went in. She pulled out a syringe and jammed it into his limp arm, then motioned for the others to come in.

"Bag him and bring him to Midnight. I'll let Him know we've gotten a high-profile individual."

[Darren Liten]

There was that moment or two of panic, realizing that this was definitely not Homeland Security (even though the insincere woman could have passed) when the gas started entering the chamber like it did.  That was a natural reaction, as was trying for the door even though he knew it wouldn't work.  What went to show that he wasn't the garden variety idiot was that immediately after the door failed, he squared his shoulders, shortened his breaths, and tried a calmer approach to the door.  A little more thought and a little less in the way of hurried breaths and movements.  It didn't help him except to keep him conscious for a short time longer, but at least he tried.

Waking up on a cold, damp floor would have been enough to make him realize where he was and what was going on, even without the smells.  That wasn't an option, however, and it was the scent of fear, pain and blood that caused him to shoot up to a crouching position from a barely conscious state.  He was still reeling a little from the movement as he took in his surroundings in a hurry, all darkness and stone, and he slipped a little further towards leopard in an attempt to gather more information.  He didn't get much, except that there were people who really didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be here, and that there was someone nearby.  He wasn't so sure he even wanted to talk to them, just in case it made his life worse, but really?  What difference did it make?

He was in a fucking cell.  In Midnight.

"Are you fucking serious?" he hissed, knowing that there would be no more chance of escaping this cell than that room, and that was a scary thought. 

[Mya Shadow]

 Mya had rested her head against the bars, if only because they were cold. They'd put her back in the cell, because she wouldn't comply. It was at the behest of Verity, who hadn't wanted to see Taran, because she knew his name now, break his "new toy". No, they were all seeing just how stubborn a peacock could be. Mya was fortunate; she was exquisite in body and face, and it was the only reason she was still alive. He hadn't cut her, but he'd been about to - that knife had looked so like his eyes, the colour that the moon reflects on a mirror, and equally as empty and cold. She shuddered to think of that icy gaze, and in the instant retracted from the bars, eager to hide from the sensation she'd just found so comforting only moments ago.

Her head was pounding. She was dehydrated and tired from fear and control, unable to separate reality from her dream for moments at a time. People would come and go, walking the narrow corridor between the cells whilst whistling a jaunty tune perhaps or even talking on phones - some said nothing at all, and one, one made Mya scared in a primal sense when he even placed his hand on the outer doors to come into the dungeon area at all. Verity had told her to be grateful for who her new Master was, and on some level, Mya understood why. Physically, the raven could harm her a great deal, but mentally he had no control over her, no more than she had over herself. Some of the vampires there could peel her like an onion and make her beg for them to do it; she didn't relish the thought of it.

When she heard Darren speak, she blinked, her vision hazy in the dim light that was provided from creaking and old lights suspended in the hall. "Serious as a heart attack," she said, voice breathy and soft. She crawled to the bars again, not daring to put her hands on them, but her form was silhouetted in the light as it moved to and fro, making her whole, and then shadow, and then whole again.

"Midnight has decided to take a personal offense to an attack placed on them, or so I was told," she said; she neglected to tell him that her presence there and her presence at all had been what had set the ball into motion, because Taran had yet to inform her of her oversight with her information. Mya, really, was responsible for all of this, and he'd tell her the next time he saw her, and then her idea of control being easy so long as she kept it would fizzle and be a notion of the past that she would cease to remember because it was easier to forget.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asked. Then it was followed, swallowed even, by a bitter laugh that seemed not to fit the appearance of the girl when highlighted by the light. Wry didn't suit her, not one bit, and yet in her voice that was the only tone present. "Of course not, forget I asked. They take time away first; distort it. It drives some people crazy alone, the lack of temporal knowledge."

[Darren Liten]

Darren really wasn't expecting what he got when he heard the response off to his right, and then he was almost wishing that he'd kept his mouth shut.  No company had to be better than crazy company, and this girl sounded like she was almost there.  Crap.  He wasn't serpiente, so he was okay without another person around.  He didn't really want a cuckoo bird for a cellmate.  Ironically, he could smell bird from her when he got a little closer, and was suddenly considering the cuckoo bird thought once more.  Huh.

"It was really early morning when they caught me at the airport," he answered, ignoring her babbling and grabbing at the pieces that made sense.  Midnight taking offense, for starters.  That was all this was about?  Who had done it?  Did anyone even know?  Who the hell told her?

He scowled even further than he already had been (was this possible?) when he got close enough to smell the pain and fear coming off of her, as well as a few more subtle things that he couldn't quite place, but didn't like.  He'd learned long ago to trust those instincts, which was why he stayed out of reach.  "It's going to take more than not knowing the time to get me," he muttered, flicking his green eyes around to try to find out something else about the place.  He hated the idea that this really might be game over, and just didn't have it in him to accept it.  Maybe that was the difference between the two of them.