Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMHDR490C6CJ1K4YX9Z2BX

Rory flung open the door, her bright blue eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of Lucien Moreau leaning casually against the doorway opposite. Damn that meddling Curse-breaker and her nosiness. "You're looking well, Rory," he drawled, straightening from his slouch against the door frame in his impeccably tailored charcoal suit. That familiar lopsided smirk played at the corner of his lips as his mismatched eyes - one amber, one black - roamed over her with a predatory gleam. "I see you've landed on your feet after fleeing Cardiff. As expected." "You knack-headed French bastard," Rory hissed, voice laced with venom. Her hand tightened on the doorknob, the old scar on her wrist aching with the motion. Even now, years later, the mere sight of him ignited a fiery mix of emotions within her - anger, betrayal, but worst of all, that unbearable tug of magnetic attraction. "What in the seven hells are you doing here?" Lucien lifted one manicured shoulder in a shrug. "Eva may have mentioned your current address. Flexing my information broker skills, you see." His heterochromatic gaze turned contemplative. "I hear you've been making waves slinging Chinese takeaway to keep yourself afloat. Admirable hustle." Rory felt her face flame red, humiliation and rage rising in her throat. "For fuck's sake, Luc - was this visit truly necessary? Perusing my sordid past wasn't enough for you? You had to see the train wreck for yourself?" "I merely wished to see how you were faring," he said smoothly, not a hint of remorse in his tone. Those damned predatory eyes flicked over the ink stains on her fingers, the stack of dog-eared books and scrolls cluttering her small entryway. "No need to dirty your gloves over me, Carter. This is purely a social visit." Rory gritted her teeth, fingers itching to grasp the hilt of the dagger she kept tucked in her boot. Damn her impulsive heart and weakness for this conniving half-demon. She took a steadying breath before speaking. "I don't have time for your coy bullshit, Moreau. If you must know, I've managed to get by without you or that viper mother of yours butting into my shit. I'm making do. So congratulations, you've officially wasted your time and mine with this little jaunt. Goodbye." She slammed the door in his face, hands shaking as she flicked all three deadbolts with a satisfying click. But no sooner had she turned away from the door than Lucien's voice floated through the wood, dripping with sarcasm. "Ah, that famous Rory Carter hospitality. How I've missed it." "Ugh!" Rory growled, spinning back around to fling open the door once more. Lucien stood there, looking boredom personified. "What do you want?" Rory hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. Lucien's mouth twitched into a smirk at her defensive posture. "I did have one more thing I wished to discuss. But perhaps this is not the best time, given your…" He paused deliberately, amber eye flashing with amusement. "Current temperament." "Ah, screw it," Rory snapped, reaching out to grab the lapels of his finely pressed suit and yanking him inside. She slammed the door once more, looming over him with a furrowed brow. "Spit it out then, you infuriating shit-stirrer. What 'thing' do you need to discuss with me so urgently that it interrupted your pity fuck tour of London's supernatural underworld?" Lucien raised an eyebrow at her crude assessment of his social life, but answered her bluntly. "I require your assistance on a matter that affects us both." Rory blinked, nonplussed. "Come again?" "The relics you procured for me were tainted by dark magics I did not anticipate," he said with a grimace. "I need your help to root out this darkness before it corrupts Eva or taints our guild any further." Rory's heart dropped into her stomach. Eva was one of the few people she cared about, and one of the only ones who knew the truth about her torrid past with Lucien. The thought of her best friend becoming corrupted or hurt because of her own mistakes was unbearable. "When do we start?" Rory gritted out, resigned. "Tonight," Lucien stated simply. "I'll send word for you to meet me at our old dining haunt at eight." Rory nodded curtly, her pulse racing at the thought of revisiting old haunts with Lucien. Damn blackmailing half-demon, always managing to get his way despite Rory's protests. "Fine," she agreed through clenched teeth. "But we play this strictly by my Terms. No more of your usual sleight of hand bullshit or who knows what will come crawling out of the woodwork." Lucien held up his hands in mock defeat, fighting a grin. "Wouldn't dream of it." He turned on his heel, leaving Rory with a final infuriating wink as he strolled out, hands tucked in his pockets. Rory resisted the urge to kick the door after him, taking a shaky breath as she collected herself. "Coming, Ptolemy," she called to her tabby cat winding around her legs. She needed to get her head on straight before diving back into the mess she thought she'd left behind in Cardiff. Damn Lucien Moreau for waltzing back into her life like he owned the bloody place.