Lilah let out a sigh as she flopped down in the break room. Across from her, a Karen Blackwell poster hung, reading, "Where do we draw the line?"

After staring at it for some time, Lilah sighed. Someone had put it there, a fellow enforcer. It was their right, but it was a shit thing to do.

Escott joined her shortly after. At least he didn't see the poster. "Hey. I heard what happened. Your dad's...he's gonna come back. I know it. He's too noble not to. And people'll understand him having a moment of weakness and needing to get away at his wife's passing."

Several colleagues took interest in them and Lilah cringed. This wasn't the time to have this conversation. Granted, she hadn't given Escott any time this entire week.

People'd understand. Sure. Of course, they would once the truth came to light. Wasn't that what spouses did? Killed each other rather than suffer? And then take off and disappear into the night? They'd understand. That way she wouldn't have to lose both parents.

"He's probably distraught. Dad didn't even issue a missing's person summons yet. Not likely that he will. And he held on to her as long as he could. It's gotta be rough for him to have her slip through his fingers."

Lilah couldn't take another word of comfort. She cut him off, saying, "I've got a funeral to prepare, Essy. Give us a minute, will ya?"

He fell silent. That wasn't fair. This was what fiancés did: they provided an ear and maybe a few soft words, but she couldn't endure it.

"Don't push me away," he begged. "I can barely stand it." When she wouldn't meet his gaze, he leaned in, trying to see her. "Hey. Hey. Come on."

It took everything in her to summon up enough courage to witness his pity.

Escott still looked as dashing now as he always had. He wasn't as musclebound as other Newbreeds, but he was tall with good definition. That didn't compare to his blue eyes against that freckled skin. That made him standout, because while Newbreeds came in all racial shades, Escott was pale with black hair like his father. Not green-skinned, no visible scales or sharp teeth. If no one knew him, he would even pass for a Yule—a normal human with no power.

He reached over to take her hand in his, as was his habit, but she pulled away.

"Give us a minute, Essy," she pleaded again. "Give us a minute. I've got a lot on my mind and I have to write a report before Dad comes back for the funeral. All right?"

Everyone was sure her father would come back; he would turn himself in. Nobody talked about what he did. Someone must have known. There was a knife wound, and yet, when she saw the cause of death, it was ruled: pending.

Pending. It was a knife. When he came to the funeral, they'd no doubt arrest him then.

It was customary for family to dress the body before burial but as Gus-Gus had shut himself up crying for days, and Lilah herself had no idea what was best, she decided to wait for her father to come. Matters such as these were best left to him; he always knew what to do.

But the day before the funeral, there was still no signs of him. Never mind the reprimands that earned Lilah jail duty. It was foolish to use her desk interface to make a personal call, but as her uncle worked in defenses, she hoped it would be forgiven.

The man's image flickered on the screen. He scowled, equally as displeased. "He hasn't come back? Nothing? You haven't heard from him?"

Lilah shook her head. "I figured you might have...you know, because...."

"Well, we twins don't have a tendency to drag each other into acts of euthanasia, if that's what you mean."

The admonishment left her speechless. He knew. How did he know?

She glanced at the jail cells surrounding her and turned the volume down in an effort to keep some privacy.

"It's tomorrow. He'll come and I don't want to have the fallout on that specific day." She tried to sound confident, but she wasn't sure anymore. "And I don't understand.... Where could he be? Short of going outside the Veil, DAWN should have tracked him down by now." Another thought occurred, but she hesitated sharing it. "A returnee from our family came back the day...the day it happened. I haven't been able to track her down yet."

"A returnee? A woman?" Uncle asked. He paused as realization dawned. "Oh. So that's what it is."

Lilah waited, desperate for some answers.

In time, the man shook his head. "Lile'l...we don't know what's going on. But until then, I think you should let them issue the warrant and you should take some time off."

"A warrant?" Lilah whispered, "But he hasn't been charged. How—Uncle, how'd you know?"

"What he did?" he scoffed. "I know your father better than he knows himself. He was using his own life-force to keep her alive. The only way your mother was dying was if he'd let her. Period."

Lilah lowered the volume yet again.

But how could he...? Lilah blinked her tears back. No. He had a reason. He had no choice. He chose this without telling them...because he had no choice. And when he came tomorrow, he'd explain it. He had no choice.

"Take some time off," Uncle repeated.

Those words felt like a dismissal. Lilah swallowed down her anger. A swirl of emotions rushed through her. When the dust settled, only one remained. She felt helpless.

"I have to dress the body."

"I'll dress the body," her uncle said. "Your father would have wanted me to do it. I'm surprised he left without doing it himself."

Yes. That was another injustice she tried to forgive.

"I'll dress the body and finish preparations."

"I can do the preparations," Lilah said. But that was all she could offer.

"Is it in the medical bay morgue?"

Lilah nodded. "But you'll need access."

"That's okay. Your father and I are nearly identical. I'm pretty sure my own DNA will be enough to gain access. I'll go down there tonight. You just get some rest." He paused before ending the call. "How are you doing, by the way?"

That was a hard question to answer. Shaking her head, she said, "Tough as nails. Just a little underprepared."

He studied her for a long minute and sighed. "You and your father are so alike in your stubbornness. It's okay to not be in control of everything all the time. This is rough for you. You're not okay."

"I'm fine, Uncle. Honest. I'll...I'll do my part and do this all proper. I can do this."

"Oh? You're fine? Tell that to the two blocks you demolished. That is not like you. You never make a mistake. To me, it's a sign you're coming untethered. If you're so fine, why is the Fan's fastest rank-hopping enforcer sitting on jail duty with a reprimand so severe she might lose her new promotion?"

She didn't have a response, so she waited for him to end the call, which was the most polite thing she could do.

After the interface turned black, she still watched it. Her father honestly wasn't coming. No. He'd come. He'd turn himself in and explain it. He'd come. He'd at least come for poor Gus-Gus.

"Excuse me," a soft voice said. "Excuse me, miss."

Still slouched, Lilah tried to pick her head up to look over the large desk. She didn't see anyone. That meant one thing—an imp.

Sure enough, when she sat up and peered down, she could see it resting on the floor. He was shorter than she expected but not short enough to mean he wasn't visible.

The size difference with regards to imps were an issue she never quite figured out. She was sure to show respect, though, because while she was an Elemental, natural born, this imp was a manmade failed attempt at making an Elemental. As such, their kinds often clashed.

Unlike Newbreeds, crosses between imp and human parents, who looked human, imps were distinctly reptilian. She tried not to stare at the green scales on his skin.

When he stood to his full height, he was about five-feet tall.

"I'm here to speak to Lander," the imp said. "I've brought his things. They said he'd get out soon."

Unlikely. Considering what Lander was transporting, he wasn't getting out for a long time.

"Sir...I'm not sure who misinformed you," she began.

"You're new down here. Everyone knows me. I'm a regular here. They know I'll make good with the court date. I just want my son. He's the only one I've got."

A regular? That didn't earn him any points. This was grunt work and although Lilah was a grunt and a half, working the jail was by far a new low.

But a regular? To a jail?

The imp waited and then said, "Fine. Then can I see him?"

That he could do. Lilah scrolled through the records but paused. Each attempt at a visitor for Lander was always refused. But then again, only two people had asked so far. To date, ten were his father, and one from an unknown; a woman. They were all rejected.

Again, the imp said, "He always says no, but everybody just lets me. They just write it down officially in the books. I have his things and he's depressed without them."

The more he talked, the more uneasy Lilah became. "Tell ya what, sir, I'll bring them to him instead."

From the frown, she assumed this wasn't an answer he was either used to or happy with.

"Or you'll have to wait till he gets out," she offered.

"No. He needs these." The imp picked up the sack at his feet and handed it over. "Can you make sure he knows it came from me? Make sure you tell him his father brought it. All right?"

Brow knitted, she nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Tine! Tine, you son-of-a-bitch, that you?"

The imp turned, giving off a half smile as Escott's father hurried to greet him.

"Hard to meet with you running into danger at every turn," the imp said. "Heard they put your ass behind a desk."

Crestfallen, Escott's father nodded. "They did, the fuckers. Walk with me, 'cause I need to talk to you."

The imp hesitated. "Is it that bad?"

"It's...it's best I talk to you in private. Come on. I'll get you some food."

And they walked off, leaving the bag on Lilah's desk. She kept busy and nearly forgot about it when it was time to head home.

"Are those my things?" Standing pressed against the bars, Lander asked, "Don't suppose I can have them?"

Since Lilah was the only one on duty tonight, she didn't suppose he could—not from her.

Lander.

Though she rarely saw Tine, Lander's father, Lander himself was no stranger to her; although she wished he was.

"Your parents helped me out a lot growing up. I wanted to be at that funeral, but I guess that won't happen now with me under lockup," Lander said. "Just wanted to give condolences."

When she didn't answer, he stepped closer to the bars, pressing his face there. Did he expect to get a Thank you for the well-wishing? After all her family had done for him, how did he pay them back? By giving her a reason to stay on the late shift a day before one of the most important days of her life—a funeral. The very cheek of it was hard to bear. She knew Lander. A part of her blamed him for how things turned out. How many nights resulted in someone having to rush to the little bastard's rescue? Countless dinners where poor Lander was the topic.

She knew him, far more than he might have realized, and she couldn't stand another reminder of something that stood in the way of their family being a family.

"I kinda figured this would come sooner rather than later. If you turn to the last page of the orange book, you'll see it...I drew this...f...for your father. He showed me how to shadow it well."

She barely regarded Lander as she glanced from the sack to him again. The way his eyes widened meant he finally took the hint; she wanted nothing to do with him.

"You're mad at me, then?" he asked. "For what? I ain't shutting up till you open your mouth and treat me like a human being."

A human being.

Lilah had a number of triggers—she knew them, she owned up to them, and on rare occasions, she indulged in the madness they brought on. This was one of them.

Lander. The most useless of their generation, putting demands on her. Bag of sketchbooks in hand, she marched to that cell and looked him in the eye.

Human beings didn't shove other human beings in crates after tranquilizing them to the point that they appeared dead. Human beings didn't endanger their communities by aiming for a Guardian imp who could easily go berserk and attack everyone in a two-mile radius. Human beings weren't an imposition.

Lander was a lot of things, human being the least of them.

They stared each other down before she typed on the keypad and the cell door slid aside. After she stepped in, it slammed shut again.

A human being. He wanted to be treated human.

She ripped out a page from his book and let it burn. His features softened as she took yet another piece and it faded to ash in the same fashion.

By the fourth page, he caught her hand.

That was stupid of him. Laying hands on an enforcer was the only excuse she'd need to rip his arm off and beat him with it. If only he would be that stupid.

The prospect of someone to hunt was better than more pity.

His expression shifted and changed as he focused on the book. One wrong move from the idiot and Lilah resolved to burn it all.

He couldn't do without his things. Poor violent, pain in the ass Lander needed his book. Not everyone could get all the things they wanted.

Instead of burning it, she dropped the bag and ripped one book in half by the spine. When she was finished, she let the ruined sketches cascade to the floor.

And then she turned her back on him. He approached. She put her fingers on her belt, tracing the baton.

"Don't," Lander pleaded. "You're better than that. You come from a good home, raised by good people, and you're marrying the strongest Newbreed around. That's not for nothing. I don't have much more than my sketches. Your dad taught me how to draw. If it makes you feel better to wreck them, so be it."

Without looking back, Lilah reached for the cell door. Lander held her arm. In time, she expected him to let go, but he held her firm.

"Essy doesn't understand. He's never lost a parent—he's never lost anyone. You don't want someone to talk to or cry on, you want something to kill." Lander tightened his grip. "But I know how you feel, and I really think you should let him take you home."

Heart pounding, Lilah willed herself not to turn and knock his jaw clear off with the baton on her hip.

"Let me go," she said, finally.

But instead, Lander stepped close. "Don't do anything stupid tonight. Let Essy take you home. It's either he takes you, or else...."

Lilah couldn't think past the or else. There was no else. The odds were in her favor and Lander was the most disposable Newbreed alive.

He held both of her arms; a grip so tight her muscles ached. She lost track of how long they just stood there. Even when he tugged her back, inching toward the only bed in there, she felt transformed—and not in a good way.

"I know we don't gotta say anything. But just rest for a little bit."

It was Lander who pushed her to sit. Although he didn't hold her there, she couldn't find the strength in her to get up.

Lander's imposing figure sat down on the cot beside her. He did a strange thing next; he pulled her closer by the shoulder.

Body tensed up, Lilah pulled away. Lander didn't let go.

Never in a million years did Lilah imagine herself sitting beside Lander, the biggest loser of them all.

But he didn't try to talk; he didn't try to give any witty or inspiriting words; and he didn't ask her what she needed.

She didn't know what she needed. A shiver ran through her and by the time she realized she was trembling, Lander wrapped his other arm around her shoulder.

The embrace was awkward because she pulled away. Lilah wasn't sure where the first tear came from. By the third, she hunched over and choked on a sob.

Lander gathered her close. "Shh. It's okay to be mad. Be mad as fuck. You've earned it. Be mad as hell."

He ran his fingers through her hair. Unlike Escott who never let his claws grow, Lander seemed intent on letting others know what breed he was right away. It felt strange having those claws trace her skin. Imaginings of his hand gripping her neck and breaking it came and went, but that wasn't his intention.

"It's okay to be mad," Lander repeated. "It's okay to want to tear the world apart. It's okay. Because I wanna tear it apart, too some days."

They sat in companionable silence for a time, Lilah struggling to get her body and emotions under control. She appreciated him sitting there. It wasn't real friendship, but it did help.

So when he leaned lower, trying to meet her gaze, she turned her blubbering face toward him. Their lips met.

Lander froze up this time instead. Lilah did as well, unsure of what the hell she was doing. She kissed him, and after a short moment, he kissed back.