(Liberna)

On her nightstand next to the bed, Page’s badge chimed for the fourth time in the past hour. WIth her left fist in her mouth, muffling her moans, she used her right hand to slap it and turn it off again. Almost immediately after it stopped it started again.

Nahilla raised her head from between Page’s legs and wiped her mouth, “maybe you should answer it, it could be urgent,” she said, glancing worriedly at the badge.

Page groaned and rolled her eyes, sitting up. She rolled onto her side and grabbed the noisy badge. Holding it up high enough that her bare chest wouldn’t be visible in the projection, she answered, “this better be important, Wren.”

“Jardin’s parents are dead. It was Hurricane and Tsunami.”

*

Dexter was woken from a dead sleep by a cold hand against his cheek. He smacked the hand away and scrambled away to the other side of the bed, getting into the best defensive position he could with his back to the wall.

Then he saw who it was and relaxed, “what are you doing here?... And why are you dressed like that?”

Standing at the side of his bed, staring down at him coldly, was Snow. Her long, wavy black hair was pulled into a messy bun and all she wore was white panties and a sheer white dress that clearly showed off the scar that ran from her shoulder to her opposite hip. She pinched a bit of the thin fabric over her stomach, looked down at it, and then back up at Dexter without her expression changing at all. “This is sleeping attire Tari gave me.”

“And why are you wearing that here in my apartment?” Dexter asked, settling into a cross-legged position, bunching up blankets in front of his crotch as he tried desperately to look at Snow’s face and not glance down at her chest.

“Tari and I had a job nearby last night so we decided to crash here today.” Snow’s cold, dark brown eyes narrowed, “if you didn’t detect us coming in, perhaps you need to work on your awareness.”

Dexter ignored her veiled scolding and ran his hand through the black rat’s nest atop his head, “And why are you waking me up with your cold ass hands this early in the morning?”

Snow’s eyes widened again, “oh, right. There is someone at the door for you.”

“Huh?” Dexter reached under his pillow for his silenced badge. He opened it up and a list of missed calls, one from Jardin and a dozen from Wren, were projected above his badge. Then he clicked to the camera feed and an image of Wren snooping around his porch for a spare key was projected into his room, “Shit! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?” Dexter shot off his bed and out of his bedroom.

“If your awareness skills were better, you wouldn’t need me to tell you.” Snow called after him, without raising her voice much.

Dexter throw open the front door, startling Wren who was crouched with a pot housing a holographic plant in his hands, searching all over it for a hidden compartment with a spare key. “What’s wrong? Is it Page or Jardin?” Dexter asked frantically.

Wren glanced at the tent in Dexter’s boxers that was eye level with him and stood up, hugging the pot in his hands to his chest. “It’s Jardin. His parents were... murdered last night.”

The sweat on Dexter’s back froze and he gripped the door handle tighter. “Murdered...? What-who?”

“Hurricane and Tsunami. Now, hurry up and get dressed, we need to help him deal with this.”

Dexter nodded, his throat dry, “right...”

He turned around and flinched slightly when he saw Snow standing in the hall, staring at him and Wren. “Who are you?” Dexter heard Wren ask over his shoulder.

“I’m Snow. A family friend of Dexter’s.” Her cold gaze shifted to Dexter, “let us know if your friend needs anything, we’ll help if we can.”