Chapter 44: Moving Up

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Moving Up

The heavy knock at the door completely killed the mood in the room.

Donald grabbed Evelyn’s wrist just as her fingers brushed the hilt of her sword. He shook his head sharply, keeping his voice down to a harsh whisper. "No. We’re not fighting cops. Kill city police, and we’re public terrorists. We’ll never be able to show our faces above ground again."

Evelyn’s jaw clenched, but she let go of the weapon. "Then what? They come in here and see the blood-soaked armor, we’re going straight to a holding cell."

"Hide the gear," Donald ordered.

They moved frantically. Evelyn grabbed her heavy armor plates and Donald’s ruined, blood-stained tactical pants, shoving them deep under the mattress. Donald threw the heavy hotel blanket over the lumpy bed to smooth it out. He took a quick breath, ran his hands wildly through his hair to make it look like a mess, and walked over to the door.

He undid the chain and opened the door just a few inches, leaving the security bar attached.

Two uniformed officers stood in the hallway. They looked tired and annoyed, holding standard issue clipboards.

"Morning," Donald said, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. "Something I can do for you?"

The older cop looked Donald up and down. "GCPD. Routine sweep, all hotels within ten blocks of the industrial district. Major incident last night. Need to see your IDs. And the room."

Donald’s stomach dropped, but he kept his face completely blank. "An incident? Nah, didn’t hear anything. We’ve been... busy since yesterday afternoon."

Before the cop could push the door, Evelyn appeared behind Donald.

She was still wearing nothing but the small white hotel towel, clutching it tightly against her chest. Her hair was wet, and she put on a perfectly annoyed, heavy sigh. She leaned her chin on Donald’s shoulder and glared at the two officers.

"Babe, who is it?" Evelyn whined, her voice dripping with irritation. "Tell ’em to go away. Shower’s getting cold, and we paid for a late checkout."

The younger cop’s face instantly turned bright red. He looked at the floor, suddenly very interested in his boots. The older cop cleared his throat, looking highly uncomfortable as his eyes darted away from Evelyn’s bare shoulders.

"Sorry to bother you folks," the older cop grumbled, taking a step back into the hallway. "Standard check. Keep your doors locked. Have a good... morning."

Donald shut the door and clicked the deadbolt back into place.

For five seconds, neither of them moved. The silence in the room was heavy. Then, Donald let out a long, shaky breath and leaned his forehead against the cheap wooden door.

"Remind me to buy you a trophy," Donald chuckled, looking back at her. "That was Oscar-level."

Evelyn smirked, though she looked just as relieved as he did. She walked over to her bag on the floor. "I wasn’t entirely acting. I really did want that shower. But we can’t stay here. They’re sweeping hotels—next time it’s magic-sniffing dogs or a warrant. Pack. Now."

Ten minutes later, they were out the back door of the hotel, slipping through the alleyway and into the morning traffic.

They caught a cab on the corner. As the car drove away from the gritty, gray streets of the lower slums, Donald watched the city change through the window. The cracked sidewalks and flickering streetlights slowly gave way to clean, tree-lined avenues. Tall glass skyscrapers caught the morning sun, reflecting bright light across the clean streets of the Upper District.

It was a different world. People up here didn’t worry about rogue vampires or syndicate wars. They worried about stock prices and dinner reservations.

"Made a call on the way over," Donald said quietly in the back of the cab, keeping his voice low so the driver wouldn’t hear. "Found a real estate broker who deals with Awakeners. High-end stuff. No background checks, no Guild registry. Just cash."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Cash? Donald, apartments up here go for millions. We robbing a bank first?"

Donald just winked at her. "Don’t worry about money."

They met the broker, a slick man named Silas wearing a very expensive suit, at a high-end coffee shop. Silas didn’t ask questions. He just slid a digital tablet across the table, showing pictures of a massive, fully furnished penthouse on the fiftieth floor of a secure residential tower.

"Private elevator, reinforced glass, completely off the grid," Silas said, taking a sip of his espresso. "Price is steep, though. Five million credits. Upfront."

Evelyn nearly choked on her coffee. She kicked Donald under the table, giving him a wide-eyed look of panic.

Donald didn’t even blink. He reached into his jacket, accessed his System inventory, and pulled out a solid black data-card. He tapped it against the broker’s tablet. The screen chimed a pleasant green color. The transfer was instant.

Silas smiled, a genuine, greedy grin, and handed Donald a pair of sleek silver keycards. "Pleasure doing business with you."

When they left the coffee shop and walked toward their new building, Evelyn grabbed Donald’s arm, stopping him on the sidewalk.

"Five million? Where the hell did you get five million credits?!"

"Uhh...The Dudes we killed?" Donald said simply, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Killing a whole squad of B-Ranks and driving off a vampire lord? Pays heavy. Seriously, Evelyn, uhh, I sold everything I could salvage from them in that fight...."

They took the private elevator up to the fiftieth floor. When the doors opened directly into the apartment, Evelyn actually stopped breathing for a second.

The penthouse was beautiful. It had massive floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the entire city, letting in warm, golden sunlight. The floors were dark hardwood, and the living room featured a massive, soft gray sectional couch that looked like it cost more than most cars. The kitchen had marble countertops, and the air smelled clean.

It was safe.

Evelyn dropped her heavy duffel bag on the floor. She walked slowly into the living room, trailing her fingers over the back of the soft couch. She looked out at the city skyline, her shoulders finally, truly dropping. For the first time since Donald met her, she didn’t look like a soldier bracing for an attack. She just looked tired, and relieved.

Donald walked up behind her. He didn’t say anything at first. He just let her take it in.

"Haven’t lived somewhere with a view like this since... since I was Vanguard of the Iron Guild," Evelyn said quietly, not looking away from the window. "And even then, it never felt like mine. Felt like a cage."

Donald pulled up his System interface. He looked at the notification that had been bothering him all morning. He swiped the golden screen away and leaned against the glass next to her.

Donald smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "This... Is a new beginning... for the both of us"

---

Down in the lower districts, the rain had started to fall, washing away the blood and grime of the warehouse district.

The police perimeter was tight. Yellow tape blocked off the entire block, and dozens of cops stood in the drizzle, sipping cheap coffee and watching the forensic mages dig through the rubble.

A tall man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit walked right past the yellow tape.

Two police officers turned to yell at him, but as they looked at his face, their eyes instantly glazed over. They blinked slowly, turned around, and completely forgot he was there.

Damian, the private secretary to the guild master of the Iron Vanguard Guild, stepped into the massive crater that used to be Sub-Level 4. He ignored the rain ruining his expensive shoes. His slanted eyes scanned the broken concrete, the shattered generators, and the massive pile of gray ash in the center of the room.

He didn’t need forensic tools. He crouched down next to the ash pile and took off his silk glove. He pressed his bare fingers into the wet, gray dust.

A sharp, searing pain shot up his fingers. He pulled his hand back, watching a tiny wisp of white smoke curl off his skin.

Damian’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed.

"Fascinating," Damian murmured to himself.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a secure number. It rang once before Sterling’s deep voice answered.

"Tell me you found her."

"Not yet, Guild Master," Damian replied calmly, standing up and wiping his fingers with a handkerchief. "But I found out how she killed Valerius. Evelyn’s not working alone. Whoever she’s with has a high-tier holy magic. Pure enough to burn A-Rank curses out of the air."

The line went silent for a moment. Holy magic was incredibly rare. Usually, only top-tier clerics from the capital possessed that kind of power.

"A healer?" Sterling asked, sounding annoyed.

"More than a healer. A protector. She found someone to hide behind. I’ll start tracking the mana residue now. They can’t hide a holy signature forever. Not in a city this dark."

"Find them, Damian," Sterling growled. "Bring me their heads."

Damian hung up the phone, turning his face up to the rain. The hunt was officially on.