AN:// Hello lovelies! I little midweek update for you now that I'm trying to get it all out by the wattys! Expect more chapters this week—this chapter was written as one huge one that I had to cut in half, so the other half will be out tomorrow!x

I hope you're all enjoying the story so far! We're really getting into it now!! 

Ellis x 

The spot that Kimaris dragged her over to was at the far edge of the dance floor. While Bonnie had struggled to navigate the crowds on her own, for him they parted almost subconsciously, and it took them little time to reach their destination. Surrounded by a twinkling silver rope, it felt as though the whole room pointed towards the darkened section, but it only housed two people:

One was Gremory—who sat facing away from the pair, drinking from a long-stemmed champagne glass with his head tilted so far back that it was as if his throat was being offered on a platter. He'd thrown his jacket on the booth behind him and had one leg rested on the glass table in front, his foot tapping to the beat of the music.

The second was a man that Bonnie didn't recognise. Not that she found that shocking, considering she knew little about the men, let alone their acquaintances. However, she found it odd that although there were barely any lights above him, and his skin was darker than anyone in the room, the surrounding air seemed to glitter. His mouth was wide in laughter as he twirled a hand above his head, his eyes closed with pleasure. He reminded her of a bird.

When they stopped at the barrier a small man approached them, his glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. Although he was at least half the height of Kimaris, he held his hands up in the shape of an x and planted his feet firmly into the ground. He looked out of place in the club; he seemed better suited to an office or a meeting. His face relayed no emotion, and even when Kimaris tried to push past him, he stayed solid, not even acknowledging the movement, or that his pristine shirt was now wrinkled.

"Seriously Poyel?" Kimaris shouted above the music, his tone even more disgusted than before. "Is this the type of people you're using for protection now?"

At his voice, Gremory choked on the drink he was consuming and exchanged his relaxed posture for a startled, hunched one that was desperately trying to cough up a lung. He turned with wide eyes, and when he saw Bonnie standing there, they grew. Meanwhile, the man who she now knew as Poyel, barely reacted to the interruption. The only indicator that he had heard was his lips twitching ever so slightly.

"Kimaris," he sang, a glee in his words that almost unnerved her. "I thought you swore to never grace me with your presence ever again. A shame really, I have such a love for lonely souls and damaged men."

Kimaris growled a sound that barely sounded human as he tried to step towards him, but he was stopped yet again. If Bonnie had thought him angry before, she did not know how to describe him now.

Clearly Gremory saw the same thing, and as Kimaris' body shook, he quickly jumped from his seat and stepped over, placing a hand against his chest.

"Let's just stay calm, okay. Don't flip."

"Yes, Kimaris," Poyel hummed over the top of him, chuckling with every word. "It would be so unlike you to ruin the atmosphere."

"I swear if he doesn't move his pathetic guarding-gnome in the next five seconds, I'll break him and shove the parts down his throat," Kimaris warned, his nose almost touching Gremory's.

And while the latter looked annoyed at his chosen reply, Poyel only laughed louder, making the lines on both their faces deepen.

The whole time, the tiny man did not move a muscle, in fact Bonnie wondered if he was even breathing. How his arms hadn't got sore from holding them like that, she didn't know. But as she peered at his face from behind Kimaris, she noticed a bead of sweat trailing from his hairline.

"Are you seriously doing this?" Gremory whispered with gritted teeth. She hadn't seen him look so serious before, it made him seem older. "You're going to risk coming this far just for your silly little ego? And not only that but you brought Bonnie—"

Poyel sat up, peering over at the group of them with intrigue. His eyes found hers through the smallest gap that Gremory had left between his arm and torso as he lent in.

"—which is so unbelievably careless and stupid and—"

Bonnie's heart thumped as a new grin took over the man's face, his hand coming around from the back of the booth to wave at her, one finger curling at a time.

"Why, hello Bonnie. And who might you be?"

Gremory's reprimanding words stopped, his gaze darting down to Bonnie and her shocked expression. He took a breath, throwing a shaded glance at Kimaris, and then turned back around, his back blocking her from view.

"She's not anyone, just a tag-along to amuse us," he told him nonchalantly, subtly trying to push her back with one hand. "She's going to get a drink with Kimaris, so no need to—"

"But we have drink right here!" Poyel exclaimed and although she couldn't see him, she could hear the drops of delight. "Please, let your amusement join us."

"Of course," a defeated Gremory responded and as he stepped to the side to motion Bonnie forward, she didn't miss the apprehensive look he gave her.

Poyel put his drink down and stood up as she hesitantly walked through the barrier. His silk shirt reflected the sparkling lights as he reached a hand out to help her, and he held on to it tightly as he brought her into the seat next to him. While his smile was reassuring, she couldn't help but feel as though she was the frog and he had just dropped her into a boiling pot of water. His eyes resembled an oil spill; too slick for his own good.

Behind her, the annoyed sounds of Kimaris continued. He was still being refused entry and, if the panicked look on Gremory's face was anything to go by, he wasn't going to simply walk away.

"What can I get for you?" Poyel asked her, motioning to the bottles laid out on the table before them and completely ignoring the grunts of frustration getting louder. "Vodka? Gin? A glass of champagne?"

"Oh, um..." Bonnie glanced at the drinks but couldn't focus. People were beginning to glance over at the commotion. Poyel's smile faltered and after a roll of the eyes, he sat forward and waved his hand above his head.

"Maury, let him through," he sighed, "He's only going to make a fuss if he isn't let in."

At his order, the man immediately dropped his arms and walked to the other side of the barrier, where he stood expressionless. It happened so quickly that even Kimaris looked a little taken aback. Bonnie had a moment to watch it before she was being stared at again, and as Poyel repeated his previous question to her, she fumbled over what to say.

"Oh-um-champagne-please," she decided after a few flustered seconds. He grinned at her answer, and the previously unnerving tint to his smile faded into easy enjoyment.

"Expensive taste. A girl after my own heart," he complimented, smirking at the brooding figure who had finally sat down with them. If not a little farther away. "You should ask Kimaris to share his wine with you sometime, he has an exquisite selection I've been told."

She wanted to laugh, but the air felt too tight. Maybe it was the overwhelming floral scent wafting in droves, or the way his cheekbones resembled the tips of wings.

"She already got to experience a particularly nice chardonnay yesterday," Gremory chimed in, plopping down next to her with a wicked grin. He snatched the bottle from Poyel's hands, turning it in his palm and reading the label. "You might need to impress her with a bit more than this."

Poyel's brows shot up so high that they almost disappeared under his dark coiled hair. Kimaris didn't say a word in reply.

"My, my," he mused, his pearly white teeth flashing, "That is an interesting turn of events."

He leaned in closer, and for a moment she wondered if he would yank her mouth open to get a better look. There was something hungry about his gaze.

"Speaking of," Gremory's raised voice announced, bringing space back between their bodies. He held up the empty bottle. "We're out."

Bonnie could have sworn the bottle was half full a moment ago.

"Well then, I better fix that," Poyel replied, uncrossing his legs as he stood, picking up the ice bucket on the way. "I'll get something out the special reserve, seeing as I have such esteemed company tonight."

There was a sarcastic tone to his voice that didn't escape her, and as he stepped away from them and headed across the room, she felt her body sag in relief.

As soon as he was far enough away, Kimaris spluttered at the other side of the booth and grabbed a glass on the table, the contents of his mouth being dispersed into it. He shook his head after and stretched his tongue a few times, his eyes screwed up.

"Throw me into the abyss—that is disgusting," he mumbled, going as far as to wipe the inside of his mouth with a napkin. "Anyone who thinks that is good deserves to suffer through it."

"Okay, Bonnie listen to me," Gremory whispered, giving himself whiplash while she sat open-mouthed and confused. "You can't mention what happened to you, okay? He can't know what we're looking for."

His words dragged her from staring at Kimaris, who was now picking tiny torn pieces of napkin from his tongue.

"But I don't know what we're looking for?" she pointed out, brows furrowed. "I didn't even know we were looking for something."

"I know," he assured, bending in closer to her. "But just trust me—okay? Don't tell him about the attack."

She wanted to say that, no—actually she didn't trust him in the slightest considering they hadn't really told her anything—but Gremory had already leaned back into a relaxed position and Poyel was making his way to them. Maury following closely behind with a bottle in each hand.

Kimaris hid the glass he'd spat into behind the booth with a casual stretch of his arm.

"Here we are!" Poyel shouted gleefully, not even glancing at the mute man who pulled the rope aside for him and brought the bottles to the table. "The best drink in the house."

Kimaris scoffed. "Still bath water."

Bonnie bit her lip to not laugh at the unamused flicker across Poyel's face.

As Maury moved around the table, pouring a glass for each person, she tried to catch his eye, even bending down as he stopped in front of her.

"Thank you," she said, purposefully staring straight into his face as she did. But it was as if she wasn't there. Or maybe, he wasn't. His movements were almost robotic.

"So, Bonnie," Poyel leaned back, putting an arm over the back of the cushion behind her. "Tell me about yourself."

"Oh." She let out a titter, her palms sweating. "I'm not that interesting. I'd much rather hear about you."

She'd been using the technique for years, it was an easy way to divert attention. People spoke more about the topics they knew, and who do you know better than yourself?

For a second she thought he was going to insist, but then he eased and swirled his drink in his hand, his tongue tracing his lips as he sampled what was left of his beverage. "My most favourite thing to discuss. What would you like to know?"

Well shit, thought Bonnie, I hadn't thought that far.

"How long have you known Gremory?" she quickly decided on, catching the blonde from the corner of her eye. She sipped her drink gently and tried not to cough as the bubbles hit the back of her throat. Kimaris hadn't been lying.

Poyel and Gremory looked at each other and then laughed, as if what she had asked was the funniest thing in the world, and as they did, she felt the chills up her back recede. It was genuine laughter.

"As long as I've been alive, really. We did almost kill each other once over a chandelier." he chuckled, clinking his and Gremory's glasses together. "We are two sides of the same coin. Different, but bound in destiny."

Mumbling something incoherent, Kimaris began drinking from the bottle of vodka. Straight.

Her confusion must have been obvious in her eyes as Gremory moved closer and motioned between the two of them, running a hand through his hair.

"We're what you'd call counterparts—a balance of sorts. Like yin and yang."

"Pfft," Poyel snorted, the movement making his piercings jangle. "But much more fun; those guys were so old-fashioned. Stuck in the Jurassic days."

Someone could barely describe the noise that came out of her mouth as a laugh, but thankfully a commotion from beside them cut off the conversation. There was a man trying to talk to Maury, and he appeared to be getting agitated the more he wasn't responding.

"Uncle Malcolm, are you even listening to me?"

"Shit." Poyel's whole demeanour changed as he cleared his throat and sat up, forgetting his interrogation of Bonnie. "Hello! Yoo-hoo!" he called to the boy who looked no older than eighteen. "I think you have the wrong person!"

The boy looked towards the group of them, his glower darkening as his shoulders hunched, bristling against the accusation. "I don't have the wrong person—that's my uncle. He's been missing for two weeks."

Something felt off. Bonnie tried to make eye contact with Gremory but he was avoiding her gaze, purposefully perusing the dancefloor, facing away from her. However, it was as if Kimaris was waiting for her to look, and when their eyes found eachother his previous words repeated like a merry-go-round. His drink slipping down his throat while hers threatened to return.

"Sorry kid," Poyel shouted back, laughing. "I don't know who your uncle is, but that's not him. Why don't you just enjoy your night?"

The hairs on her arms rose, and that prickling feeling had returned to her spine. Kimaris' brow raised, and he did not break their stare.

The boy ignored him and shook the frozen figure's shoulders, trying to get a response. Either he didn't notice the tilt in Poyel's neck, or he didn't care. But Bonnie did.

"Why aren't you saying anything? We've all been so fucking worried. You haven't answered the phone or sent a text! I'm gonna call mum right now and you're gonna explain to her where the hell you've been."

As the boy reached for his pocket, Poyel shot up—his friendly facade cracking. He was now rigid; the playfulness gone from his expression.

"I said," he hissed, his empty hand now beside his head, twirling around lavishly as he stepped towards the two of them. His rings glittering like stars with every movement. "You've made a mistake. That's not your uncle, and you should go back and enjoy your night with your friends."

He was now almost towering over them, and his frame felt as though it had grown, stretching to intimidate not just the person but the surrounding air. She was glad that she couldn't see his face.

"Stay calm."

Bonnie almost did the exact opposite of the order whispered so closely into her ear, but an expecting hand pressed into her shoulder, stopping the movement. Kimaris had slid over without a sound, his arm curling behind her and tucking her hair behind her ear almost tenderly. Any words crumbled as his nail grazed against her skin.

Gremory left his seat and went to Poyel who was now muttering things under his breath—words that she did not know, or a language she'd never heard. But the boy in front of him appeared frozen, his eyelids non-existent and his throat constricted in a way that appeared as though he couldn't breathe. Then his skin started to change colour, and she realised he couldn't.

"We won't let him hurt you," Kimaris continued, as if he could hear her racing heart. Although his words aimed to make it better, his actions did not, and as his finger trailed down the side of her face and touched the edge of her hair, Bonnie thought her chest might explode. His eyes begged her to listen. Like a murky, clouded sea—the waves of them stilled but danger lurking below. She had not noticed them so much before, but now they held her reflection in them and she felt powerless to look away. "Just keep it together."

She was unsure if the choked sounds were her own, or the boys.

And then, in a flash of a strobe light that streaked across the room: Kimaris moved back, her lungs inflated and her hair settled back onto her shoulder. Beside them, whatever Gremory had been murmuring to Poyel worked, and the boy returned to a healthy colour, although his face was now void of the building anger it had had before.

"You're right," he said, an awe in his voice that felt far from earth. "My mistake."

And then, as though the last few minutes hadn't happened, he returned to the dancefloor. Like a boat set loose at sea, he drifted aimlessly and was swallowed by the crowd. As soon as he had disappeared from view, Poyel spun around, an ecstatic curve to his mouth as he picked up his glass again, pretending to wipe his forehead.

"Now that's sorted—where were we?"

Gremory's eyes flashed between Bonnie and Kimaris as Poyel sat himself between them, but none-the-less he followed and situated himself on the other side of her, quickly returning to the drink he had left without a word.

Bonnie was terrified. Not because she had put the pieces together; the age, the jokes, the way Kimaris had been so eager to drag her here and prove that the good guys weren't good at all. But because she was watching Maury, and where before she could pass of the bead of sweat as a coincidence, she couldn't deny the tears that now slipped from the corners of his eyes. Even though they appeared almost milky, she could feel the pain in them. Everything in her wanted to scream, to put as much distance between herself and the paper thin edge of an angels bad side, but Kimaris' concrete gaze over his shoulder made her stay seated.

"Does Maury work for you?" she asked, and the two men that had brought her here visibly relaxed at her steady voice. Her nails dug into her palms as she forced herself to act collected.

"Oh, child no," Poyel mused, refilling his glass. "I'm not an employer, more of a partner to Maury. We're in a mutually beneficial contract of sorts. It's what I do."

"You make contracts with people?"

Poyel gave her an amused look as though she was speaking a new language, and then offered the same look to Gremory who only shrugged and remained silent. "Why honey, I'm the angel Poyel. Has Gremory not divulged the dirty secrets of my workings to you? I'm almost insulted."

He shuffled closer, bringing his arm around her as he waved a hand in front of them over the dancing crowd. She couldn't help but think of a python sliding across her shoulders.

"People come to me when they want something; whether it be an object, a status, or a person perhaps. All sorts seek me out, but they all have the same desire—more. In the old days they called me the angel of support and fortune, because I could procure the needs to bring people to glory. I helped armies beat their enemies by gifting herbs that were not yet discovered for medical aide, or found weapons that were lost to the battlefield. I saved lives, helped families grow, helped them to thrive! But nowadays, it's so different."

The previously charm coated features he displayed were now etched with disgust, flickers of animosity lacing his words. His pointed nose looked down at her.

"Now, you live in a society that is overflowing with abundance, and those who seek me are filled with greed and desperation. It is no longer about your inner victories or your bloodlines legacy, it is now about what you own, what you can buy, what you look like. I used to be called to help when in need, to lift those who believed up into glory and a better life. But now I teach. Take Maury for example."

He waved his hand, and the man responded instantaneously, moving up to the other side of the table, facing them. Like a soldier. Bonnie thought her stomach might rip itself in two.

"Maury here—oh wait shoot, did that kid call him Malcolm? Did I get the wrong name?" he winced dramatically, before shrugging the thought away. "Oh well, I've been calling him it for almost two weeks and he hasn't seemed to mind, so—Maury here, called upon me in a moment of desperation. You see, as much as he may appear the family man, Maury is an adulterer. Boo-hoo, right?"

Kicking out his feet, Poyel lept up and threw his hands as though performing a magic trick.

The music in the room felt louder. Kimaris' eyes hardened over the rim of his glass.

"But he's not just any old adulterer no, Maury is a special kind. Not only did he cheat on his wife whose at home with the kids—for months may I add—but he also gave his woman all the money from their bank accounts. Every. Last. Drop. Didn't you Maury, you imbecile?"

The statue of a man did not respond. His antagoniser made a noise of boredom before grabbing his head and pushing it down into a nod three times, giggling as he did. The muscles in his neck looked like they were straining against the skin.

Wincing from the pain in her palms, Bonnie quickly unfurled her hands and placed them onto the leather of the booth, letting them find a new victim. She pushed the soles of her feet into the sticky floor, but it didn't help her feel grounded.

He won't even call him by the right name.

"And so," he sighed, tapping the man's nose. "When the little hussy inevitably ran off with the money and blocked all contact, he was running out of options. And that's when he called upon me. Only the truly desperate read prayers and summon spirits from the internet in hopes it will change their situation. Anyway, I was all too happy to help, after all I adore humans; so frail and finicky, it's always good fun. There was just a little snag. You see out of all the things he could have wished for; to go back and not cheat on his wife and betray his family, or to find the girl who took it—even to punish the girl so that she learnt a lesson—any of those would have been better. But no, he didn't ask for that. All he wanted was for no one to find out, and enough money to do it all again."

Poyel leered at the man, his nose like a crow's beak stabbing into Mau—Malcolm's plump cheek as he gritted his teeth. Bonnie wished she was double the distance away. Maybe then she could be blind to the way his body was vibrating. Beside her, an almost inaudible grunt came from one of the boys.

In a blink the venomous rage was gone and as Poyel turned to his audience, a giddy grin replaced it. His gaze swept over them before resting on her. There was something wicked behind his teeth. "And that Bonnie, is disgraceful. And as an angel, I just wouldn't be doing my duty if I didn't guide him the right way. After all—who would want to fall from grace?"

That's when she saw it; the snide, calculating shimmer behind the persona that he was emitting. The joy he was clearly getting from the down turned expression on Gremory's lips that his words pulled out. He thrived in his resemblance of a bird, pecking at people's weak spots and oozing sophistication with the killing blow. She wasn't stupid; she knew what he was alluding to. From the corner of her eyes she could see Kimaris' pale fists straining against themselves.

"So you're guiding him?" she questioned, trying to pull his predatory gaze away from any of the other three. "How?"

"By helping him to see what's important in life and what he takes for granted." He grinned with satisfaction, twirling a piece of coiled hair. "By removing the urges that lead us astray, like free will, we find our truth. In serving others, you serve yourself, and you serve the bigger picture. I teach humility and sacrifice, and how to find wholeness in the simple things and fill your life with an abundance of purity. Not greed. Pride will knock a man down far quicker than any weapon. I'm humbling him so that he may find true happiness, even if that means starting from scratch."

From scratch.

She had no idea who Malcolm was before, and perhaps he had done some things that he ought to be punished for, but she could not, while sitting here and witnessing what was happening, say that he deserved this. He was a ghost—one that was not only still suffering, but who was trapped and being made to watch the world around him helplessly as it moved on without him.

"What are you doing to him?"

Whether he truly cared that she seemed frightened, or he was just continuing with the part he had decided to play, Poyel gasped and rushed over, sitting back down into his seat. She tried not to move away as he took her hand, but she felt the figures around her tense at the closeness of them. She was swimming in dangerous waters and needed air.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt him. I'm merely making the most out of a difficult situation—I'm helping him, and I just so happened to need a hand in looking after my affairs, so it's the best of both worlds you see? He'll return to normal life in a short time."

She did not believe it, not for a second, but sitting next to him was intoxicating. Between the shimmering light that bounced from place to place along his body, the glittering jewellery that sparkled as he twirled his hand, and the perfume that had clung to the deepest parts of her nose, she felt dizzy. Everything was blurred. Perhaps he truly was helping Mal—Maury. Maybe this is exactly he needed to be fulfilled in life.

Her head nod slightly and the smirk on Poyel's face grew as he twisted his body to face her fully. It was as if her eyes could see nothing else around him; he was the sun and she would orbit.

"So bonny Bonnie," he hummed, delight dripping in every syllable as if they tasted sweet, "Is there anything I could help you with?"