Paris - Marianne

"Come out, sugar! You don't have to hide from me," I giggled, popping a giant blue bubble of gum that burst with a loud snap. 

 I hopped onto a wooden crate in the cramped basement, swinging my legs as I admired my chipped, black-painted nails. The moment Masson stepped out of the shadows with that sheepish grin, I grinned wider. 

"Aw, caught you sneakin' around again, huh? Naughty, naughty!" 

 "Sorry, Annie, didn't mean to be creepy," he mumbled. 

 I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Oh, sweetie pie, I've been watching you creep around for days. Like a little mouse, squeak, squeak, squeak!" 

 He laughed nervously. "Of course you'd notice. You're the master of sneaky stuff." 

 "Why are you here, hmm?" I tilted my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, wide and just a little too sharp. 

 "We were worried about you," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

 "We?" My voice shot up, mock-surprised, as I drummed my fingers on the crate like an impatient rhythm. 

 "Yeah. The boss, Nic, and me." 

 "Ohhh, the boss! Which one? Clockie? Nah, he knows exactly where I am." 

 "Not him. Belmont." 

 I snorted and threw my head back. "Belmont? The kids made a plan without telling me? Adorable." 

 Masson scratched the back of his neck. "Things are a little tense back home. The oldies are losing their minds." 

 "Darling, the grumpy old geezers always loose it?" I slid off the crate, landing light as a feather. Then I closed the distance between us in a single step, standing so close my white duffel brushed his glaringly red hoodie. My lips hovered inches from his jaw. "Why are you really here, sugarplum?" I whispered, one eye winking in slow motion. 

 His pulse went into overdrive. I could feel it. My smile widened like a cat toying with its prey. "So, uh," he stammered, eyes darting everywhere but at me, "what's going on here? The city feels... off." 

 I rolled my eyes dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "You're just noticing that now? Adorable. Yes, darling, the city's crawling with them. They're even in our zone." 

 "Shit. Are they locking everyone up?" 

 I reached up and playfully ran my fingers over his buzzed hair, like a child discovering a new toy. "Honestly, sweetheart? I haven't the faintest idea what they're doing. Blood banks? Gone. Clubs? Closed. Streets? Empty." I cocked my head like I was hearing a particularly amusing tune. "Fun, huh?" 

 His face darkened. "So they're... wiping us out." 

 "Looks that way!" I chirped, stepping even closer, pressing my cheek against his shoulder like it was my personal pillow. His warmth seeped into me, and I didn't even realize how much I missed that until now. "Hmm. This is nice," I muttered. 

 "You... okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. 

 I burst into a laugh that startled him. "Just hug me, you big dummy." 

 His arms hesitated, then wrapped around me. "I'm here to find someone," he murmured, his breath hot against my hair, sending delicious shivers down my spine. 

 "Lexie?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. 

 He nodded. "Yeah. You know where she is?"

 "Maybe," I sang, pulling back with a mischievous grin. 

 "Can you tell me?" 

 I planted a black lipstick stain on his cheek with a loud, dramatic kiss. "I'll do you one better, sugar. I'll take you there." 

 "You're coming with me?" His whole face lit up like a kid getting a candy bar. 

 "Of course, darling! We're a team now. And besides, I wanna meet the girl too." I threw a playful wink his way. 

 "Getting bored with the oldies, huh?" 

 I shrugged, spinning on my heel. "Oh, sugar, let's just say... it's about time someone shook things up."

Masson followed behind me like a lost puppy, his sneakers scuffing against the damp, concrete floor. I walked ahead, swaying my hips dramatically, spinning my bag around like a lasso. 

"So, sugar, what's your plan once you find Lexie?" 

 He hesitated. "Uh... I just want to make sure she's okay. Bring her back if she wants." 

 I spun on my heel so quickly that he nearly collided with me. "If she wants to? Oh, darling, you're a romantic. Just scoop her up, toss her over your shoulder, and ride off into the sunset. That's what heroes do, right?" 

 "I'm not a hero," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 I snickered, poking him hard in the chest. "No, you're not. But that's why I like you." 

 We climbed a narrow staircase that led to the alley behind the building. The air was thick with the stench of garbage and rain-soaked asphalt. The streetlights flickered, casting erratic shadows across the brick walls. It was my favorite kind of night—messy, unpredictable, alive.  

Masson kept looking over his shoulder, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. "Do you think we'll run into any of them?" 

 "Them? Oh, sweetie, they're everywhere." I gestured broadly to the empty streets like I was presenting the stage for a grand play. "Lurking in the corners, waiting to pounce. Isn't it exciting?" 

 "Not really," he muttered, his brow furrowing. 

 I pouted dramatically. "Oh, lighten up! Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, you've got me. I'm practically invincible." I grabbed his arm and dragged him down the street, humming an off-key tune that echoed eerily against the buildings. 

He didn't resist, but I could feel his hesitation in the way his steps lagged behind mine. "What's got you so jittery, sugarplum?" 

 "Just don't want to get caught," he muttered. 

 "By them or by me?" I teased, shooting him a sideways grin. 

 He didn't answer, and for a moment, I thought he'd missed the joke. But then he surprised me. "Both," he said, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

 "Good answer," I said, tossing him a wink. 

 As we turned a corner, I spotted a group of figures huddled near a broken-down car. Their voices carried through the night—low, sharp, threatening. Masson stiffened beside me, but I just grinned. 

"Looks like we've got company," I whispered. 

 "What do we do?" he hissed. 

 I reached into my duffel bag, pulling out a battered crowbar with a flourish. "We say hello, of course." 

 "Marianne, wait—" he started, but I was already walking toward the group, swinging the crowbar like it was a baton in some twisted parade. 

 "Evening, boys!" I called out, my voice sing-song and dripping with mock sweetness. The figures turned, their faces hard and unfriendly. One of them stepped forward, a burly guy with a shaved head and a leather jacket that looked like it had been through a war. 

"Who the hell are you?" he growled. 

 I rested the crowbar on my shoulder, cocking my head like I was sizing him up. "Just a girl with a thing for shiny toys and bad ideas. You?" 

 The guy scowled. "You're in the wrong place, lady." 

 "Oh, I love being in the wrong place," I said, my grin widening. "It's where all the fun happens."  

Masson grabbed my arm, his grip tight. "Marianne, we should go," he muttered, his voice low and urgent. But I wasn't going anywhere. Not yet.

The guy with the leather jacket sneered, stepping closer. His heavy boots thudded against the pavement with a rhythm that set my pulse racing. Not fear—anticipation. Oh, I loved when they thought they could scare me. 

 "You've got about three seconds to turn around and walk away," he said, cracking his knuckles for effect. 

 I smirked, twirling the crowbar lazily in my hand. "Three seconds, huh? You're generous. Most people just skip to the threats." 

 Masson tugged at my sleeve again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Marianne, we really—"

 "Shush, sugar," I cut him off, holding up a finger without looking at him. "The adults are talking."

 The burly guy's scowl deepened. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Stupid guts." 

 I gasped, clutching my chest in mock offense. "Stupid? That's just rude. Didn't your mama teach you manners?" 

 One of his buddies snickered, but a sharp glare from Leather Jacket silenced him. "Last warning," he growled. "Walk away, or we make you." 

 I tilted my head, tapping the crowbar against my shoulder. "Make me? Oh, honey, you're adorable. But if anyone's making anyone, it's me making you regret that tone." 

 Before he could reply, I lunged. Not at him, though—that would've been too predictable. Instead, I swung the crowbar low, aiming for the broken-down car behind them. The metal connected with a satisfying clang, and the car alarm blared to life, its shrill wail cutting through the night. The chaos was immediate. The group stumbled back, cursing as they scrambled to figure out what was happening. Leather Jacket spun around, barking orders at his cronies. I laughed—a wild, unrestrained sound that echoed down the street. 

"Oops! Looks like I broke something!" I called out, waving the crowbar like a victory flag. 

 Masson grabbed my arm, his grip firm this time. "We need to go. Now."

 "Fine, fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "Killjoy." 

 I let him drag me away, but not before blowing a kiss over my shoulder. "See you around, boys!" 

We ducked into an alley a few blocks down, the car alarm still faintly audible in the distance. Masson finally let go of my arm, doubling over to catch his breath. "Are you insane?" he panted, glaring up at me. 

 "Define insane," I said, leaning casually against the brick wall. 

 He straightened, running a hand through his hair. "You could've gotten us killed!" 

 I shrugged. "But I didn't. And now we know they're jumpy. Useful information, don't you think?" 

Masson stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn't decide what to say. Finally, he groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "You're impossible." 

 "And you're adorable when you're frustrated," I shot back with a wink. 

 He shook his head, muttering something under his breath, but I caught the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

 "Come on," I said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him along. "We've got a Lexie to find, remember? No time to waste." 

 As we walked, I hummed a tune under my breath, the crowbar swinging loosely at my side. The night was still young, and I was just getting started. The streets of the city stretched before us, a maze of dimly lit alleys and old signs flickering like forgotten promises. I walked ahead, the crowbar tapping against my leg with every step, each clang a little song of rebellion in my head.

Masson trudged behind me, grumbling under his breath. "This plan of yours better not get us killed." 

 "Relax," I said, throwing a grin over my shoulder. "When have I ever gotten us killed before?"  

"That's not reassuring, Annie." 

 I spun around to face him, walking backward now, arms spread wide like I was about to take flight. "Trust me, Masson. I've got this under control. Mostly." 

 He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about "chaos incarnate," but I ignored him. We had more important things to do—like finding Lexie and maybe breaking a few rules along the way. 

 The sound of muffled laughter caught my attention, and I stopped, my ears perking up like a cat's. There was a group of vampires loitering near a convenience store up ahead, their voices carrying through the quiet night. 

 Masson bumped into me, letting out a startled "Oof!" 

 "Watch it," I said, holding up a finger. "Do you hear that?" 

 He frowned, listening for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a group. What about it?"

 "What about it?" I echoed, my grin widening. "They might know something. Let's go say hi!"

 Before he could protest, I was already striding toward the group. "Hey there, fellow night owls!" 

I called out, waving the crowbar in a way that was definitely not threatening. Probably. The group turned to look at me, their chatter dying down. There were five of them, all wearing mismatched jackets and the kind of scuffed boots that suggested they'd seen their fair share of trouble. One of them, a tall guy with a cigarette dangling from his lips, raised an eyebrow. 

"And you are...?" 

 "Marianne," I said cheerfully, leaning on the crowbar like it was a walking stick. "And this is my trusty sidekick, Masson." 

 Masson muttered, "I'm not a sidekick," but I ignored him. 

 Cigarette Guy exhaled a plume of smoke, eyeing me like he couldn't decide if I was a threat or just insane. "What do you want?" 

 "Information," I said, straight to the point. "We're looking for someone. A human girl who hangs out with lions. Seen her around?" 

 The group exchanged glances, and my fingers tightened on the crowbar. "Never heard of her," Cigarette Guy said after a moment, shrugging. 

 "Liar," I said, my voice sing-song. 

 His eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" 

 "You heard me," I said, stepping closer. The grin never left my face, but my eyes were sharp now, locked on his. "You know something. So why don't you save us all some time and spit it out?"  

Masson tugged at my sleeve, whispering urgently, "Marianne, maybe we shouldn't—" 

 "Quiet, sidekick," I said without looking at him. 

 The tension crackled like static, the air between us charged and waiting to explode. Cigarette Guy flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. "I don't know who you think you are, but you'd better back off." 

 I tilted my head, feigning thoughtfulness. "Hmm. Nah." The crowbar swung up, resting on my shoulder. "You see, I don't like liars. And you," I jabbed the crowbar in his direction, "reek of dishonesty." 

 His friends shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between me and him. Masson, ever the voice of reason, whispered, "Marianne, let's just go. The Magistrate is—" I ignored him again. 

"So, last chance, pal. Where's the girl?" 

 Cigarette Guy hesitated, his jaw clenching. For a moment, I thought he might make the stupid decision to fight me. Part of me hoped he would. But then he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Fine. I saw her. She hangs around the guardhouse. Happy now?"  

"Ecstatic," I said, my grin returning full force. "See? Was that so hard?" I turned on my heel, crowbar swinging, and started walking away. "Come on, Masson. We've got a guardhouse to visit." 

 Masson hurried to catch up, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "You're going to get us killed one of these days, you know that?" 

 "Maybe," I said with a shrug. "But today's not that day."

"Or maybe it is," he sighed as he pushed me towards the wall nodding his head at a patrol of four sorcerers marched in a rigid formation down the road, their shiny boots clanking like a bad drumline. I stifled a laugh—loud noise wasn't exactly the best strategy right now, but they just looked so stupidly serious. I scanned the area for a hiding spot. Nothing. Just wide-open nothingness. 

My fingers twitched at my sides, itching for a weapon or a distraction or something to blow up. Before I could decide which flavor of bad idea to follow, Masson's hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. I spun to glare at him, but his eyes were locked on a half-open window nearby. 

 "That's your plan?" I whispered, my voice dripping with disbelief. "We're supposed to just, what, wiggle through there?" 

 He didn't answer, just gave me that determined puppy-dog look of his, the one that said trust me, which was infuriating because it usually worked. 

 "Fine," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "But if I die, I'm haunting your ass forever." 

 As we edged toward the window, I couldn't stop the string of curses bubbling under my breath. How the hell had I gotten this sloppy? I worked best alone—no attachments, no liabilities, no one holding me back. But then there was him, my sweet, stupid, loyal puppy, following me straight into hell with that dumb, hopeful face. 

 I stopped short, yanked him close, and planted a kiss on his lips. His eyes widened like I'd just set him on fire. "If this is it," I said with a manic grin, "I might as well go out with a bang." 

 His groan was soft but deeply satisfying. 

 "The quarter is empty." The voice behind us snapped me out of my fun. I shoved Masson back into the shadows, pressing us so tight against the wall I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my arm. 

 "Have you searched everywhere?" 

 "Everywhere," the other voice replied, dripping with boredom. 

 A fifth sorcerer joined them, and the group turned to leave. My shoulders relaxed a fraction, but then one of them hesitated, his eyes sweeping the alley. And of course, because I'm me, our gazes locked. He smiled—a little twitch of his lips, just for me—and I couldn't resist. I raised two fingers to my lips and blew him a kiss, adding a cheeky wink for good measure. He shook his head, grinning, and vanished around the corner. 

 Masson hissed in my ear, "What the hell was that?"

 "Not everyone's out to kill us, darling," I said, stepping away from the wall like nothing had happened. 

 "Old friend?" 

 "Something like that," I said with a shrug. "Now, come on. We've got chaos to cause." 

 He followed, muttering something about how I was going to get him killed one day. I ignored him, already planning our next move. The rooftops stretched out before us like a playground, the city below dark and deserted. 

 "Doesn't it feel a little sad?" I asked as we leaped across a gap between buildings. "All this quiet? Where's the fun in that?" 

 Masson didn't answer, too focused on not falling to his death. When we reached the guardhouse, it looked just as dead as the rest of the city. 

 "We're late," I said, peering through a cracked skylight. Masson landed beside me, his boots kicking up dust. "Feels like no one's been here for months." 

 "Or maybe they're hiding." 

I shot him a mischievous grin. "Time to find out." 

 He sighed, already resigned to whatever chaos I was about to unleash. I slid down the railing instead of bothering with the stairs, landing with a dramatic flourish in what used to be an office. The room was a disaster—papers, broken furniture, and random junk strewn everywhere like a tornado had thrown a tantrum. 

 "They're in the tower," a voice whispered, and I whipped around, crowbar raised. A girl peeked out from the pantry, her wide eyes locking onto mine. 

 "Lexie?" 

 She nodded, stepping forward cautiously. "Who are you?" 

 "A friend of Dominic's," I said, spinning the crowbar like a baton. "We came to rescue you."

 Masson appeared at the top of the stairs, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You said to stay up there!" 

 "Yeah, well, plans change," I said, waving him off. 

 Lexie glanced nervously between us. "I thought the lions were on their side." 

 "Not anymore," I said with a wicked grin. "They finally realized what happens when you play with fire." Pulling off my jacket, I draped it over her shoulders like a cape. "Alright, little lion, time to blow this joint. Paris is no place for kittens."