Preface: This is the second book in a greater story that began with Penumbral: Chrysalis. While reading the first book will give you a lot of context for how these characters got to be who they are, the two stories are completely separate. Book One contains all the violence, sexual content and extreme body horror this one doesn't, and shouldn't be read if those make you uncomfortable. That said, now you know it's out there if curiosity ever itches. 

 

Onwards!

 

 

---

 

Maxine Powers-Johnston could have been a symbol. She could have been a symbol of hope, or of fear. A symbol that people could rally behind or cower from. But instead, Max had chosen to be what the people she had always looked up to were: not something for others to look at, but a light, a spark, a fire, that might light the way of others. Not someone to be emulated but someone who could show people what lies inside, so they could choose what to be for themselves. Maxine chose to be a light in the darkness. 

 

And she burned brighter than most. 

 

 

---

 

 

Four years ago, with her then-girlfriend Victoria  and her best friend Rue, she had founded her own agency. “Company” wasn't quite right and apparently there's legal ramifications to calling yourself a charity without permits. 

 

They had founded “Lux In Tenebris Incorporated”, or Lit Inc. for short. Lit Inc went where other organisations couldn't go to do what other organisations couldn't (or wouldn't) do. There was, simply put, nobody in the world with a skillset quite like theirs. So they flew across the world in a rinky dink refurbished cargo plane, visiting disaster areas and quarantine zones and helped in ways others couldn't. It usually took a while for local authorities to catch on and by that time they were usually gone already. For some reason most people never reported them. Weird, that. 

 

Over the years, their roster had expanded somewhat, though considering their roots they tended to pick up weird strays and almost exclusively queer people. It be like that sometimes. Obviously, they also preferred to pick people up with useful skills. 

 

Or, well, superpowers. 

 

After getting started and working on their own for a while, they found themselves picking up stragglers, like the hyper-empathetic misery sponge Remy (one of Rue’s girlfriends) and Ceecee Brown, activist and fashion designer who happened to also be a human 3D-printer. All were people whose goal in life was to help others. All queer disasters. The plane's cramped living quarters were a mess, obviously. 

 

The biggest two problems that Lit Inc dealt with were as follows: 

 

They were terminally underfunded and over budget. That's why, sometimes months at a time, the cargo plane (affectionately called Big Bird) was grounded while Lit set up a temporary office somewhere and dealt with local problems. Eventually they'd save up enough again, get packed up, and leave. 

 

The second problem was that Lit Inc was in no way, shape or form a legitimate organisation. They would help out where they could regardless of governments actual approval. They were happy to get it when they got it, of course, but most of the time their stay in any one place was cut short by bureaucracy at the point of a gun, and they had to make a swift escape, sometimes out of the country, in a very short time. Recruits for Lit Inc usually asked to go home after their second swat raid.

 

—-

 

It wasn't a clean getaway, Maxine thought, standing behind her the two pilots. On her right, Ellie, the Co-pilot and Rue's cousin, was looking a little panicked. Victoria, the pilot, Maxine's wife and the most perfectest beautifullest woman in the world, was arguing over the headset in Urdu. After a second, she grunted with annoyance. 

 

“How long do we have, babe?”

 

“Maybe five minutes. They're real ansty.” 

 

Maxine nodded and kissed Victoria on the cheek. 

 

“Have I ever told you you're very attractive when we're about to be blown up?”

 

V have her a kiss and a smirk. “Dork. Go tell the others.” 

 

Maxine looked out the side of the cockpit and saw one of the fighter jets hanging next to them. The pilot was frantically motioning for them to land. She waved at him sheepishly.

 

“Already on it!”

 

Maxine made her way through the ship towards the back, calling for everyone to come with her and meet her in the cargo hold. When Rue and the cadets were standing in front of her, she crossed her arms and tried to look somewhat authoritative despite being shorter than most of them. 

 

“All right! We've got two military fighter jets and four minutes. This is a learning opportunity. We don't want to get shot, we don't want to cause an international incident, and we're sure as hell not spending two months in a Pakistani jail cell. Billy, you go first!”

 

Billy McQueen was a soft-spoken, awkward dork with the ability to slow down time in a bubble around him without affecting himself. He was clever, and all three of the original founders had taken him under their wing as a precious cinnamon roll to be protected at all times.

 

“Well, maybe Rue could fly me out there, and I could slow them down long enough for you to escape. Then we can catch up?”

 

“Not bad,” Max said. “Risky, though, once they realised what's happening they might open fire on you. But I like your thinking! Ceecee?”

 

“Big Blue Wall?” 

 

“Tut Tut, no sparking diplomatic incidents.”

 

“Ugh, fine, mom,” Ceecee joked. “Could we make decoy ships, heck, I could make a few decoy jumpers, make it look like we're bailing.”

 

“Decoy planes don't work. We tried that once. Decoy jumpers wouldn't work because they'd see V in the cockpit still. Remy?”

 

“They're on edge. They were expecting cooperation. But there's also hesitation. I think equipment failure should work.”

 

Maxine raised an eyebrow. Impressed, she looked over at Rue, who just looked proud at her girlfriend, completely lost in the gay. 

 

“Oy, Ruecifer, focus.”

 

“Hmm? What? Hmm?”

 

“Can you?”

 

“What? Oh yeah, on it.” She turned to the ramp and lowered it. The noise was deafening. She looked at two fighter jets on their tail and waved as they both peeled off, then closed it again. 

 

“Something chewed through their communication equipment cables and their weapon systems are malfunctioning.”

 

Maxine raised her arms triumphantly. “I did it! I did a teachable moment!” She ran to the cockpit. “Babe!”

 

Rue smiled sisterly as she disappeared, then turned to Remy. “You did amazing, love. I'm proud of you.” She kissed her on the nose. “You're amazing.” Remy fluttered her eyelashes playfully, then returned the display of affection with a small “thank you.”

 

Rue straightened up. “All of you! You did well! Good suggestions, clever thinking. I'm proud of all of you!”

 

“Does that mean we get kisses too?” Billy quipped. 

 

Rue sighed dramatically. 

 

“All right, form a neat and orderly line. One kiss, and then to your quarters. Ten hut!”

 

Laughing to themselves, they did as told. 

 

“You too, Westbrooke!” Lisa Westbrooke feigned reluctance but she was honestly not opposed to attention from a woman like Rue, who was tall and buff and had beautiful curls. She'd always enjoyed the company of women but she'd never found the time - or the person - to explore that side of herself with, especially when she'd been in the army. But Lit Inc was relentlessly queer, and she was slowly finding herself among them. She'd been the last to join, but they'd wasted no time in letting her know she was appreciated and at home here. 

 

One by one they got their peck on the forehead, cheek or nose. Some blushed. Rue made mental notes. She and Remy were polyamorous and between them had another five partners, two of them shared. What was one more? 

 

As the plane pushed into Iranian airspace, Maxine took a nap in her cot, Victoria had Ellie look up flight codes and Rue cuddled with Remy. The others were playing cards in the cargo bay. 

 

When Maxine woke up five hours later, it was dark. The shape that scooted into her cot would have been recognisable to her a million ways, her senses keener than most anyone. But the first thing that always tipped her off was the fact that V cleared her throat first, every time. It was to call her attention in case she wasn't aware. It was to wake her up in case she'd been asleep. It was to warn her in case V’s footsteps had been too light. It was tailor made for them, to assure Max she was safe, and that this was her love. 

 

As V shuffled backwards into Maxine's arms, the latter wrapped a blanket around her, and kissed the back of her neck.

 

“Nice flying today.”

 

“Thanks. That was probably the most run-down airfield we've ever been to. Hell to take off on.”

 

“There was Suri- wait, no: Montana.”

 

“Ohhhhh Yeah, that shithole. The evil trucker gang didn't help.”

 

Maxine suppressed a giggle in Victoria’s back. “The fucking truckers. They were going to use me as a-”

 

“Virgin sacrifice! I remember. Babe, next time a trucker wearing five different kinds of off-brand pentagram asks you if you've ever laid with a man, don't be honest.”

 

They giggled for a bit. 

 

“Where we headed? Still France?”

 

“Yeah,” Victoria confirmed. “Briefing at 0400 local time. This one is going to be weird.”

 

“Ooooohhh I can't wait. I love weird.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“How long has it been since we cuddled like this?”

 

“Oh darling. Hours.”

 

 

---

 

 

It was 0400 local time and people were grumpy and sleepy. Victoria had a thermos with coffee and a clipboard. There wasn't anything on it, she'd memorised everything, but she was convinced it made her look authoritative. Maxine agreed and couldn't help biting her lip at her girlfriend being so attractive. 

 

“Alright punkindoodles, we touch down in an hour just outside Paris-Charles De Gaulle airport. We're going to be received by my friend Muhammad, who will get you to your vehicles and on location. Max is delegating tasks on the ground.”

 

She paused a second to take a sip, looking at Maxine who stood behind the others and gave her two thumbs up and a sleepy smile. 

 

“What we know is this: there's an epidemic going around in districts ten, eleven, twelve and thirteen. It's got some nasty symptoms, like rabies-like hostility and physiological nastiness. Locals are calling it “Corbeau”. It's transmitted through bites and contact with infected blood. Yes, Maxine?”

 

She now looked fully awake, practically bouncing with her hand in the air. 

 

“Is it vampires?!”

 

“I… Uh… Let's not jump to conclusions? But also not rule things out? Anyw- yes, Max?”

 

“If it's a Vampire can we keep it?”

 

“That'll depend on whether or not it's housebroken. Anyway, I want everyone brushing up on their French and Maps of Paris. I don't want to have to send Remy out to save you again. Let's not do a repeat of Morocco, okay? Dismissed.”

 

There was minimum of hustle and no bustle whatsoever as everyone shuffled off to wake up and study like good little children. 

 

—-

 

It was 5:25 and it was pouring. A man in a parka was standing just inside the hangar door, taking shelter from the rain, his breath visible in the cold not-quite-morning-yet air. He observed the cargo plane gently being parked, and approached when the ramp descended. Maxine, short with a side shave, walked down the ramp, her team behind her. Most of them looked young, he mused. 

 

“Muhammad! Good to see you again.”

 

They shook hands. She could tell by the look on his face he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, wanted to waste no time. He looked… Less nervous, more worried, upset. 

 

“What do we have?”

 

He retrieved a map from his raincoat. 

 

“The mairesse has given you plot of land to use just outside le douzième arrondissement. She thinks you're a specialised medical team, and pushing this disease back would make her look good. “

 

He looked up at Max. “This is sensitive and I'm being trusted here. I'm trusting you. Don't. Be. Weird.” She grinned in a way that didn't comfort him in the slightest. 

 

“Right now, the infected are brought here, to l’Assistance Hôpitaux De Paris. It's close to le dou- the twelfth arrondissement.”

 

He shoved a stack of badges in her hands. Each had a photographic ID for a member of their crew. 

 

“These ought to pass inspection, get you in.”

 

“Thank you, Muhammad,” Max said as she accepted them. “You know anyone infected?”

 

He smiled sheepishly. ”I am that obvious? Oui, ma cousine. I haven't seen her but I hear it's… Not good.”

 

Maxine tapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll fix it, man. We always do, remember?”

 

“I remember you were arrested for breaking into the Louvre.”

 

“It was necessary!”

 

“With a ten foot squid!”

 

“Nathan was a national hero and, for the record, delicious.”

 

“Don't be weird,” Muhammad repeated again, not laughing.

 

“All right.” Max turned around to the team. “All right, Ceecee, Rue, I want you to go with Muhammad. You two are setting up Base Camp. I want a triage building and quarters done by noon. We might be here a while. Lisa, Billy, Remy, I want you to go look at the hospital. I'll text you the address. Figure out what this is if you can. If you need me, I'll be available on cell. Ellie stays with the plane until camp, uhhh…”

 

“Ratatouille?” Billy hazarded. 

 

“Yes! Good! I like it! Ellie, you help V stow the plane, then offload what you can for transport to Camp Ratatouille. Questions?”

 

Lisa stepped forward.”What if the situation in the hospital is dangerous?”

 

Maxine chewed her tongue for a second. 

 

“Remy should give you enough time to react. Billy, take the tazers with you. You have permission to bubble up. Take them to the triage point when Rue or Ceecee gives you the green light. Lisa is team leader because she has authority and looks the part.”

 

Lisa blushed. Remy raised her hand. 

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Muhammad wished he could unsee what happened next. Maxine grew taller as a dark purple liquid emanated from her skin until she was a seven foot tall amazonian monstrosity, all muscle. Its purple skin shifted and moved like colours in an oil slick. Her face became a shapeless mass on which materialised two white eyes and a mouth full of teeth. 

 

“We are going vampire hunting.”

 

Muhammad was terrified, but perhaps even more importantly, he felt a great deal of pity for the prey a predator like this might catch. He had heard of Penumbra and Spite before, but this was his first time seeing them both. It was a sight to behold, but perhaps, ideally, one to behold from a distance, behind bulletproof glass. 

 

—-

 

Martin Dumas sat on the dome of the Sacré Coeur and looked at his city. It reeked, as it always did. To some, the whole city was a toilet. He despised them, of course, but he did not hunt them. They were boorish, disgusting, but they didn't choose their lot in life, and he was not the one to decide it for them. He desired a better class of prey. 

 

His eyes, stark white in the moonlight as dawn was breaking, scanned the expansive metropolis. Two million people in the inner city alone. He was born in this city and he knew he would likely die in it, but it was his city. He'd seen it change over the years, but come hell or high water, Paris would always be Paris. He gritted his teeth. Sun was rising. Time was running out. 

 

There!

 

He launched himself off Montmartre, gliding through the air in absolute quiet as he stalked his prey from above. They had no idea he was coming. They'd regret the day they ever came to his city. Like lambs to the slaughter.