Hekate's Call, Chapter 37

It had taken so much preparation to get this silly party set up. She had to make sure Krystyn could leave the pilot quarters. She had to get Aegis and Morian to push Trine towards letting them have the rec room for a day. And she had to convince Crater to approve all of it on top of that. All of that while making sure that Velia didn’t find out about her all her stupid preparations before the party.

“They’re throwing a very late party for my promotion,” Velia sighed as she wrapped her arms around Ilina. “Crater said it was important to celebrate these kinds of things. I suppose giving the girls a chance to blow off steam helps too. We did the same back at the rebels whenever we elected a new captain.”

Ilina leaned into the hug more than she really should have. It hadn’t slipped that it was her idea after all. Back with the rebels, the scout captain was a fake, made-up role. They all took orders from Velia who had contact with their imperial handler. The captain was just whichever poor thing had to take care of all the girls in the barracks and fill out all the paperwork for everyone.

“Will you dance with me?” Ilina teased. Hopeful. Trying not to imagine the scenario where everything came crashing down because Velia said no. All that work wasted.

“I only dance with pretty girls,” Velia smiled.

Ilina smiled back, of course. That was exactly the answer she was expecting.

Though being pretty for Velia was hard. The first time Velia had told her she was pretty, she was on her knees crying and begging for help. She wanted to be pretty in the way that would make Velia blush and stammer in public. She wanted to be pretty enough that Velia can’t look her in the eyes.

When the day came, she got prepared in a little room near the rec room where the party was being held. Manya had helped her get ready and went ahead to avoid arousing too much suspicion about the whole plan. Some people dressed up a little bit. Velia was going to show up in her uniform because this was a work event where she had to interact with Crater and Morian. It was a shortcut to respect, and she knew how good she looked in it. It gave her confidence.

Unlike the black, shoulderless dress and heels that Ilina entered the event with. She felt weirdly naked and vulnerable. It wasn’t too breezy, but she wasn’t used to feeling the air on her legs or arms like this. The mechanics and pilots parted like the sea, letting out an array of sounds from gross whistling to heartthrob sighs.

It was worth it for the moment when Velia turned from Morian and Crater to look at what the commotion was. A tilt of the head and a squint. A faint creeping smile and bewildered eyes before covering her mouth with the back of her gloved hand in embarrassment, followed almost immediately by her clearing her throat to disguise the nervous gesture.

“Consider me thoroughly ambushed, little hunter,” Velia extended her hand to Ilina as she approached. Speaking loudly enough that their rapt audience could hear her every word. She was getting good at it too, her practice had been paying off. “I take it this entire party is your handiwork.”

Ilina had practice too. For all her years crawling through artillery-fucked cities and hanger-bay morgues, she was a proper lady somewhere under it all. She’d taken mama’s etiquette lessons over her mom’s drills every day she could, despite serving no practical application in her life till now. More words she’d have to have with Irene Hunter-Falke.

The thought brought a life to her movements. A delicate, but measured, smile at the depth of her curtsey. Taking the hand offered to her and allowing Velia to bring it to her lips for a kiss. “You said that you would only dance with pretty girls,” Ilina’s smile spread into her awful fanged grin, “and you know how I feel about fair fights.”

Velia let out a too-loud laugh, sudden and pitched. “You dreadful little girl,” with an equally vicious smile to match Ilina’s own. “I can’t very well say no, now.”

Somewhere, Taitle gave the signal. A toned down whistle, very kind of her, to start the music. Something slow to start for their first dance. Though nobody else jumped in to start, leaving just Ilina and Velia in the space alone together.

Ilina leaned in and whispered, “you know how to dance, right? Or do I have to teach you?”

“I haven’t had a lot of practice. Can you lead?”

“Yes, sir.”

Her commander’s hand twitched in hers as they took position. The whole party was so silly. The officers all dressed up in their uniforms, and most everyone else came in whatever. Ilina was the only one dressed up for a proper event. And it drew so many eyes to the two of them as Ilina led, step by step, at the center of it all. It was getting under Velia’s skin. Too many eyes on her, blindsided, giving it the best improv performance she could.

Several others joined in too. Sethlan and her girlfriend, whose name continued to elude her, were the first. Aegis quietly turned down a dance with Caenes, probably insisting that she preferred to watch, although Ilina couldn’t imagine anyone taking that offer either. Crater stood by Morian, who despite Ilina’s insistence wore those floppy, loud sandals to thwart any would-be dance partners like she always did at company events. Velia relaxed some as other people got into the energy, though Ilina still felt the woman squirm under her gaze.

It was intoxicating. Velia glanced to the side every once in a while to make sure they weren’t going to collide with another pair. Tried to hold eye contact and failed. Did everything in her power to keep from looking down at her feet and admitting she didn’t actually know how to do this. Meanwhile, Ilina had yet to look away from her partner even once.

She moved with complete confidence of her surroundings. Graceful and light. Every step memorized and repeated with precision. It was the easiest dance she’d been taught too. So many dreadful lessons to learn and master all sorts of little rules and rituals and hidden meanings. Those were all mama’s expertise. The little social games of the civilian elite. Meaningless here, but she could make a show of it nonetheless.

With Velia’s hands shaking so slightly interlocked with her own it would be their only dance, but Ilina had only ever counted on getting once and making it count. A round of applause and cheering, especially loud from Taitle on their little dance. The mechanics were nice, supportive girls, really, when they weren’t getting handsy with her. Ilina slipped into an embrace and pulled herself tighter than she’d normally allow and shifted her leg just so.

Hard as a rock.

“You awffful girl,” Velia whispered as they pulled away. She adjusted her little cap, taking the moment to compose herself while Ilina initiated a respectful curtsey. Velia gave her a little bow before retreating to Morian’s side. A little too fast, attracting some light teasing from the mechanics filling out the room for her shyness.

And before she could rush to find a drink someone to feign a conversation with, the hound was at her back. Hand gentle on her shoulder.

“I owe you a dance, don’t I, Symeon?”

She turned to take in Symeon Vigil for the first time at the party. She’d stayed tucked away somewhere behind Krystyn and Manya, nearish Crater but far enough not to intrude on the woman’s time with Morian. Dress uniform, trousers, hair neat but rough. The dog wasn’t even bothering to hide the intentions behind the hunger in its eyes or the near-salivating smile.

Ilina broke from her and turned to curtsey once more. Differently than how she faced Velia. Not that there was anyone in the room save Morian who might have caught the duelist’s form, balanced and distinctly invulnerable. But the look on Vigil’s face showed she instinctively approximated the difference in the way a beast’s would.

Lesson after lesson etched into her being, and many finding use for the first time. It affirmed her in some deep way that the various combat forms she’d been taught with as much insistence and force never did. The way it pulled at her brain and pleased her was close to how it felt to work on someone’s leather or care for the tools that kept them safe. Rewarding, exciting, and a just a bit dirty. She hated the thought of turning her mama’s lessons into a self-serving kink like that.

But the dog wasn’t going to let her linger in her head too long. “I feel like I’ve been challenged,” it performed a quick bow with military form, “or at the very least shown up. I suspect I will be asking you for more lessons, Lady Falke.”

Ilina motioned for a song to start before taking Vigil’s hand. It was immediately apparent that Vigil already knew the steps and had the right form, or just as likely had intuited it from watching and matching Ilina’s stance. Vigil was a hungry learner and devoured everything around them, especially the way other people fought.

Dancing beneath Vigil felt like dancing beneath the Scandal itself. Her grip was strong, a quiet message that she shouldn’t run away, and her movements were as graceful as Ilina’s own. Despite having claimed to have no experience, the dog was matching Ilina’s steps and confidence with ease. A natural.

“You’re an excellent teacher,” Vigil hummed quietly as they moved together.

Ilina’s entire body was hot. She was sure she was blushing. But she couldn’t stop looking Vigil in the eye. At least Velia glanced away, but not the dog. Vigil matched it, just trusting and following Ilina’s every motion. That awful cockpit smile, predatory and bestial, bore down on her.

Don’t look away. Don’t show weakness. Never show your back to the hound.

It was a warning first passed to her by Morian, and then by Velia once she was appointed sub-commander. Bet none of them pictured this would be the situation that Ilina would struggle the most in, even as every piece of her body wanted to run, scream, fight this beast off.

The worst part was that it wasn’t even a good dance to get wet to. It was embarrassing like a girl bleaching her panties for the first time on prom night to the slowest most agonizing dance ever. Ilina knew the steps to much better dances for sexual tension, and how she wished Vigil did too if this was how it was going to get to her. This was a new kind of humiliation she’d never experienced.

And then it was finally over. Ilina did not curtsey for the hound, instead meeting its growing bloodlust with her own. “Our next dance will be in our steel, Symeon. I look forward to it.”

A nasty head tilt like the way Krystyn did, exactly as Krystyn so often did to an uncanny degree, and a vicious, fanged grin that Ilina now recognized as a mirror to her own. “And here I was hoping we’d dance in the sheets next, little hunter.”

Ilina was free, finally. She’d had her dance, fulfilled the stupid promise with Vigil – who she was still quite fond of, just increasingly wary of since the duel – and was ready to actually settle in and enjoy things.

Of course, Velia had retreated to Morian’s side, crowding the hag with women who were far too young for her. Examining her in the light of the party, Crater looked about the same age as Morian, not that it mattered at all. Trine was a few years older but not enough grey or signs of age in her face. It was less than surprising that the four women, a proper witch’s coven of everyone’s bosses, were given a very wide berth.

Everyone seemed to be either way too attracted to Morian, or terrified of her in some vaguely respectful way. The way you needed to be afraid of a tiger at a circus: it could kill you with ease but the only way to maintain your sanity around it was to trust that it was well fed and well trained.

Her relationship with the doctor was different. It wasn’t quite what Ilina wanted, but it was too special to risk losing in its current form. But it did mean she had the freedom to speak plainly, and often rudely, to her in a way nobody else dared. And she was still on that adrenal high from dancing with a woman to wanted to break every bone in her body just to hear her scream.

Ilina Falke, the quiet mercenary, well liked and well mannered, let out a loud, performative groan to get people’s attention as she marched over and pointed at Morian’s stupid awful feet and nearly shouted, “I told you not to wear sandles to the party!”

“I spilt hydrofluoric acid on my shoes!” Morian pointed back at Ilina, matching the accusation. “I thought I told you not to point at people!”

“No, you didn’t. You did this at every party back at Carrion!” Ilina marched over and stamped on Morian’s exposed toes with her heel. “Just tell people you aren’t interested!”

Morian let out a loud yelp and stumbled backward into a table, with a comedic and deliberate spill of her drink all over her gaudy labcoat. An excuse to excuse herself from the party that she didn’t want to be at in the first place.

There was a moment, a glance between Crater and Velia. Something odd and competitive. Whatever it was, Crater won, and reached a hand down to the doctor. “Are you okay, Dr. Kyrnn?” With that the two of them excused themselves, answering only that, “It’s about time I excuse myself, I’m sure it’s not easy cutting loose with your boss around.”

Ilina watched Crater lead Morian out, hand resting on her shoulder. Too familiar for Ilina’s tastes. How did they even know each other? In the months she’d been employed, their relationship was opaque and motivated by what Kyrnn could offer. But that gesture sent a shiver down Ilina’s spine.

What? Was she Morian’s fucking guard dog? She was the last standing of the Corpse Eater’s fiends. She should at the very least know what their relationship was. Morian was sensitive and fragile, and she’d seen the woman cry her heart out too many times to see someone hurt her again.

“Hey, miss Handler,” Taitle slid into the fresh gap in the party. The area around them had picked up in tempo and energy since Ilina’s obligate dances were done with. “Caenes keeps bothering so I’ve gotta ask, can you release the battle logs for the Parting Word?”

Velia tilted her head. “Why would an electrician need classified battle logs?” Taitle shrugged, not bothering to answer or defend Caenes. When Taitle turned to shuffle back into the party proper, Velia commanded, “Hold.”

“Sir?” Aegis stopped and turned on her heel. Correctly less casual than a moment ago.

“Why did you call me miss Handler?”

Aegis Taitle had never looked so happy to be asked to explain something in her entire life.

Another meeting in Crater’s little office, with a distinct absence of Crater. Velia never sat behind the desk, always leaned on the front facing everyone as she always did, standing prettily in her perfect uniform that Ilina couldn’t bring herself to look at this morning after the party and resulting tension. This was going to be a bad meeting.

“After much consideration, we’ve decided to do room reassignments.” Velia’s face was neutral and her tone was a scary dark. “It’s only temporary, mind you, but I would like to see how you girls do with different roommates.”

A subtle inflection on that last word sent a shiver down Ilina’s spine for some reason. This was her fault. This was her punishment. For what? For remembering Her so fondly? Velia’s pride could get fucked, this wasn’t fair.

“Am I getting a roommate for once?” Vigil glanced from the commander to Ilina with a smile.

“Unfortunately,” Velia cut in before the idea could linger too long, “Both Elisabet and Morian have barred me from making any changes to your solo room assignment.”

Krystyn piped up. “So who’s getting Ilina?”

Everyone was staring at her except Manya, who was smugly humming to herself and checking her nails. Manya was certain she had gotten what she wanted. Ilina tried and failed to put Manya and Velia alone together, but they seemed to find time themselves and hit it off since Manya’s punishment. That meant this only went in one direction.

“You do, Krystyn. I think Carie has been a bad influence on you overall, and my hope is that Ilina will be very stabilizing for you.”

Velia had given Ilina little more than a glance during the whole meeting. She clapped once and announced, “Go back to your rooms and pack, Ilina, Manya. You two will be switching rooms first thing tomorrow morning.”