In reality, Maximus had been living with Jeff for some time now. About a month, if Angus wasn't mistaken. He'd already tried separating them, or at least getting one to kill the other. He now saw that that had been a mistake; the perfect plot for those two was right here.

The moment he uttered the word "violent" was around when Elise started really paying attention. She furrowed her eyebrows and rested her chin in one hand.

"Go on."

Angus started circling her as he searched his mind for anything of note about Jeff.

"...he's one of those people who think they're sharp and calculating, but are really very stupid. You know any?"

"We're surrounded," Elise said without missing a beat.

"He lives underground as of now. On the run. He reminds me a bit of a mole, now that I think of it. He's built up a travel record—courtesy of yours truly—and even made a bit of a name for himself. The 'Flat Woods Killer,' his hometown calls him."

Elise perked up. "Oh? Number?"

When Angus didn't respond, she raised an eyebrow.

"Kills."

"Not to say I've kept count," he said with a smile, regaining his footing, "but I've kept count. 250 at the very least."

Elise laughed softly. It was a pleasant, if not unsettling sound—somewhere in the valley between human and hyena. Angus didn't mind it in the slightest.

"That's quite a resume," she said. "I hope you understand if I can't believe what I haven't seen just yet. But hopefully..."

There was a pause, and surprisingly, she frowned. For whatever reason, Angus had thought that impossible for her. It quickly faded as a dreamy look crossed her face.

"Oh, I bet he would make a wonderful addition to the family..."

Angus scowled despite himself. "I am not giving up Jeffrey just like that. We have a history, you know. He has his value, not just as some weapon, but a cohort. Stupid as he is, I'm counting on him."

"Well, what if we made it a trade?"

Deafening silence fell over the room. Elise's smile didn't falter. She drew a tiny red screwdriver and two nails from her back pocket.

"This Jeffrey...I'm sure he's quite the brute. But that's nothing when we line him up against my niece."

Angus remembered immediately—Alexandra Schröder, 22 years old. So naïve and capable of so much damage. "Go on."

"I'm not sure how I could have lived without her, after all these years. But I'll be generous, and give you from the second we find her to exactly one year later. I get your 'Killer,'" she said, sliding the screwdriver Angus's way and placing the nails by her side, "and keep my Masquerade. Shouldn't be too hard keeping them both; if one escapes, I have my ways of reeling them back in. If, God forbid, they go off together, it'll be a piece of cake driving them apart." Something about the look on her face was starting to perplex him. Unsettle, even; she looked pained, though she was clearly still smiling.

"...be just as much of a treat, too," she said under her breath, eyelids beginning to twitch. After a moment, she took a deep breath and clasped her hands together with bright eyes.

"Well! No point planning out something like this with a burnt candle. Goodnight, Angus!"

He knew what she really meant; I want you to think we've already agreed on a trade. She had already started planning something bigger than this, something that probably benefited her far more than it would him. The corners of his mouth tugged downwards in some new emotion; something he'd only seen in humans and never in himself. Suspicion. Uncertainty. Of course, he could always read further into her mind, but...

Exactly how far has that gotten me?

"Goodnight," he said, at a loss for any other words. She blinked, nodded, and skipped back to her sad little cot as if it were a bed fit for a princess. Angus turned away to melt into the shadows, but paused.

"And, Elise," he called over his shoulder. She looked up from the heavily tallied wall with an innocent smile, and Angus threw back one of his own.

"You had better think twice before double-crossing me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear."

—

Elder Schröder clicked and tapped and buzzed away at her new gift. Well, to say gift might have been a stretch; Angus barely had the means to provide her any physical thing. But constructing this remote, very reminiscent of the one she wore on her wrist at the underground base, had been loads easier with him around. It was one of those rare instances where he seemed as though he genuinely wanted to help; he would inform her of when dust was clogging up its interior, say "stay back" when the feeling arose that things would get a mite explosive—he'd even managed to knock out a guard or three so Elise could frisk them for new supplies.

"Major," Elise said into the device, "be a dear and find Laurel for me, would you? I'd like a post to be set up near those woods Event disappeared in, but of course, your Elder would only listen to that advisor—secretary—well, whatever she's called. And be subtle about it."

"Roger," came their crackled response. Elise set the remote down with a sigh, turning her attention to a pile of scrap metal (mostly frayed wires) laying at the center of her cell. She began to fiddle, picking pieces up and throwing them down, hooking things around each other and back. There had to be something she could make. Appreciative as she was of Angus's plan, everything was so boring nowadays. The one thing she could resort to for entertainment was commanding a knowing agent or two; from the sidelines, no less.

Angus emerged from the floor and slithered up a wall like an independent shadow behind Elise's back. Surely even she had a blind spot.

"Elder Schröder," he said after a moment. To his surprise, she didn't flinch.

"Always so sweet to me. How are you doing today, Angus?"

"I believe we have a problem," he elaborated, thinking that he might have to give up on trying to scare her at this point. It hadn't even worked when they first met. "But I'll let you decide exactly what it is. Jeffrey and your former servant—"

"More than a servant, remember? We're family."

Do you seriously believe that?

"...forgive me. But they..." Angus shuddered at the thought. He couldn't contain his disgust any longer. "They have fallen in love with each other! I have not the sort of tactical mind you do, in any way; please tell me this will not throw a wrench into our plans."

Elise sat up straight, eyes shining while still fixed on whatever on Earth she was tinkering with. "My little Masquerade, in love?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "With a serial killer? You must be mistaken. If anything of what you've said holds truth, he would be disgusted by the likes of him! Oh, this is exciting," she muttered nonetheless.

"You aren't displeased?"

"Angus, you adorable pessimist, can't you see what this means?"

Though her tone hadn't changed, Angus had a strange feeling the cogs of her brain were turning with a vengeance. He began to smile again.

"They'll follow—"

"My boy has found happiness!"

Angus faltered. "...you can't be serious."

Elise looked at him for the first time that day, a wry smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. "Or were you thinking that they'll follow each other to the ends of the Earth?" She threw her head back and laughed airily. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. I do love a good joke now and then, you know that." She took a breath, composing herself. "You're right, no, you're right. Now we don't exactly have to steer both of them at once, thank Heaven."

"Because one will always follow the other."

"And knowing Masquie, whatever messages I send he's bound to obey...he'll think it's his 'intuition,' or whatever nonsense those criminal parents of his taught him," Elise scoffed with a surprising amount of disdain. Angus didn't let that stop the back-and-forth.

"All they need is a little push. Something to get them out of that disgusting comfort, push them over the edge."

"Like that Ouellette character you told me about..."

"More of that tear gas, perhaps."

"Or one of dear Anni's patrols."

"Or the authorities."

Elise gasped and sat up, hands clasped together. "My god, Angus, your mind! Those men...they're such idiots. Just waiting to be turned into puppets."

"Shut up!"

Elise's neighbor—some huge, brawny thing by the sound of it—slammed half of his body into the wall and was shortly reprimanded by one of the guards passing by. Elise raised her eyebrows at the ground ahead of her and muttered, "Well. That certainly isn't any way to talk to your Elder."

Good god. All the world's a family, and all the men and women her children; is that how she sees it?

"Ought to have a little respect for his neighbors," Angus threw in regardless. "He is in prison. Certainly his ego could take a bit of bruising."

"Oh, forget that lost soul," Elise said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We have more important things to do. I still have to find ways of getting a hold of all those ties, at least, being able to control them—"

"Was that not the purpose of this invention of yours?" Angus let a spindly finger rest on the remote Elise had placed on the floor. "To control them?"

"Yes, but I still can't make the new ties take over their bodies when I please. Do pay attention."

I may need to refresh myself on those memories of hers.

"I also need to find Altaris..." Elise started chewing her uneven fingernails again. "Oh, I really do hope she's alright. What's the outside world done to her? What has Bert..."

With a slow blink, the information entered Angus's stream of thought seamlessly. Bertram Schröder, husband to Sonia Rodriguez and father to Alexandra. Elise dug her nails into the legs of her jumpsuit, and for a moment Angus felt a small, fleeting sense of fear that she would cut through the fabric and into her own skin. That was certainly odd; he didn't feel fear. He wasn't supposed to.

"I know why he did it," she said to no one. "I know it was only so I wouldn't find her, or else they would've stayed a happy little family." Her voice was a quiet but scathing jeer. "Well, you've got something else coming, little brother."