Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMGCJEP4V2FPN0RPNJSQVF

The cold, brisk evening air rushed in as Aurora Carter swung open the door to Eva’s flat. She frowned at the tall figure standing on the threshold, framed by the warm glow of the hallway lights. Her heart did an odd little stutter, and she gripped the door handle tighter, a silent plea for composure. He was the last person she expected to see. "You," she said, her voice laced with surprise and an edge of something sharper. Lucien Moreau, the Frenchman, stepped inside, his stride purposeful. He wore his usual tailored charcoal suit, a stylish contrast to the frumpy academics and curious East Londoners that typically frequented the area. His platinum blond hair, slicked back with care, gleamed under the yellow light of the hallway. As he met her gaze, the heterochromia of his eyes—one amber, the other black as pitch—was a striking reminder of his half-demon heritage. "Rory, how delightful to see you," Lucien drawled, his accent a smooth blend of cultured French and something more ancient and unplaceable. His eyes drifted past her, taking in the cramped, book-laden living room. "I trust I find you well?" Aurora hesitated, her fingers tightening around the door, ready to shut him out if necessary. The last time they'd been in the same room, harsh words and broken promises had hung heavy between them. Now, in her safe haven, she wasn't sure if she wanted to let him in, either literally or figuratively. "It's a bit late for surprise visits," she finally replied, her voice carefully modulated. "You could've called." A slight smile curled Lucien's lips, revealing nothing. He leaned casually against the doorframe, the very picture of urban sophistication. "I prefer the element of surprise, as do you, I suspect. Besides, phones can be traced, and discretion is in short supply these days." He paused, his eyes darting to the small scar on her wrist, a faint reminder of her own complicated past. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd save you the trip to my establishment." Aurora bit back a retort, reminding herself that getting Lucien's help was the reason she was allowing him into her sanctuary. She stepped aside, making room for him to enter, and Ptolemy, the resident tabby cat, wound around Lucien's legs, meowing in greeting. "Come in, then," Aurora said, closing the door behind him. She crossed to the small kitchenette, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts as Lucien made himself at home, strolling the periphery of the living room as if he owned the place. She heard him pause by the bookshelves, his fingers grazing the spines, absorbing the knowledge that filled every nook and cranny of the flat. "It has been a while," he remarked, turning to look at her, his eyes flashing in the dim light. "Eva's away on one of her trips, I presume?" Slinging a tea towel over her shoulder, Aurora nodded. "I wouldn't know. We've not talked much since... you know." Lucien hummed in understanding, his eyes flicking toward the balcony window, a tacit acknowledgement of the rift between them. "I assume you’re also aware the truce between the factions is all but broken after that debacle at the Exchange?" Aurora remained silent. Of course, she'd known that her delicate dance between worlds was precarious, but she'd hoped for more time before things came to a head. Reaching for the kettle, she said, "Tea first." She watched as Lucien made his way to the small dining table, his ivory-handled cane clicking against the worn floorboards. The cane, a necessary concealment for a nasty blade, was a formidable weapon, and Aurora had seen him wield it with skill. Yet, it was his words that carried the true weight of danger. "So, you're here to ask for my help again," she said, her tone belying the concern that coiled in her stomach. Lucien gave a silent laugh, his eyes finding hers. "My dear, I thought you, of all people, understood my motivations. I am a merchant of information, and quite adept at acquiring it from even the most obstinate sources." He leaned forward, his voice lowering. "But I'm aware that things ended abruptly between us last time, and for that, I owe you some measure of peace." Placing the mugs of tea on the table, Aurora sat down across from him. His words were true, but she still questioned his arrival at her door. She knew enough of Lucien's history—the whispers of his life in Marseille and the brutal efficiency of his rise in the London underworld—to realize that he owed peace to very few people. "Look, I appreciate the consideration," she began, choosing her words with care, "but I can handle things on my own. I've been managing just fine since..." Lucien waved her off with a careless gesture. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, although that tenacity of yours is certainly commendable." His eyes narrowed slightly, taking on a sharp intensity that made Aurora shift in her seat. "The key players in this game are most displeased with your interference. They want you out of the picture, permanently. And they know you and Eva are close." A chill raced down Aurora's spine, and she wrapped her fingers around her mug, her knuckles white. "Are you saying I’m in danger?" "Not if I can help it." His gaze softened, and he leaned back in his chair, momentarily dropping the world-weary facade. "I've taken a certain interest in you, Aurora. Despite my initial impressions, you've proven rather... resourceful." Aurora felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, an odd mix of irritation and warmth coursing through her. She cleared her throat, trying to refocus on the matter at hand. "I'm not exactly sure what you expect of me." "Nothing that you're not already doing," Lucien replied with a small smile. "I merely wish to ensure your safety and keep an eye on any further developments. The situation has become... personal for me." She fixed him with a steady gaze, searching for truth in his enigmatic eyes. "Why?" Lucien's smile faded, replaced by a serious expression that held a world of unspoken secrets. He stood, smoothing the front of his suit jacket. "Because I find the thought of you in harm's way... disagreeable." The very air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken desires, old hurts, and new revelations. Aurora's heart hammered against her ribs, an unsettling mix of fear and anticipation. Finally, she spoke. "Stay, then. For now." She took a deliberate sip of tea, as if grounding herself in the familiar comforts of the mundane. Lucien inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. And it seems we have much to discuss." As he moved to get more tea, Aurora rose to join him, her mind whirling with questions. The past and its complexities were knocking on her door, and the present demanded her attention. She only hoped the future wasn’t as complicated as it seemed.