Here's chapter four!! Clearly. I should really stop stating the obvious...mm whatever. Well, I hope everyone has a great day and everything. Sorry about my boring author's notes, but you know, deleting it accidentally and everything really was hell. I only just stopped swearing about a minute ago. So... Please read/vote/comment!!!

Gracias! love y'all! <3 vb123321

Chapter Four



♥ Astrid ♥



Time passed. It always did. October was slipping away, and still Josh hadn’t returned. The only good news I heard was about Cloying – they had managed to secure the nuclear devices he had threatened to use. He hadn’t been bluffing after all. However, he was still out there somewhere, with Jay, probably looking for the rest of us. And Pierre was either with him, or somewhere else on the globe…I only hoped Josh could find him.



The team Delta sent after Pierre small compared to the one they had hounding Cloying, but I understood why. Now that the weapons were secured and Cloying was becoming more and more difficult to locate, the chase was slowing somewhat. Even though I had given Alan Young a detailed description of what the purgatorium mali was capable of doing, he didn’t believe that it was imperative enough to track down and destroy.



Now that I had recovered completely, I wanted more than anything to be back in the field. Young told me that he would send me to Josh’s team, except that they were so undercover that I would be unable to join them. It was a comforting excuse, but a lie nonetheless: I knew he thought that I had messed things up enough. So I was stuck at the agency with nothing to do but train and exercise, and that became my life. I vowed that if I ever came across Cloying again – and I intended to – I would come out the victor.



With Josh gallivanting after Cloying and Pierre who-knew-where, I was mostly alone at the agency. Although I knew a few of the other agents, I didn’t seem to be able to connect with them, and so they mostly left me alone and I them. But somehow, even in the taciturn state I was in, I felt a need for someone to talk to, someone that might have a chance of understanding me. And that was when I came to rely on Darcy.



Darcy Jones was a fourteen-year-old Canadian, fresh from a secret service agency in Toronto. I had been surprised Delta had allowed a foreign agent to know about our program, and vice versa, but apparently as we were supposed to be “allied countries,” the risk of disclosure of our secrets was slim. They called it something of further training for both groups, getting to know our allies. I considered all this crap and wondered what the Canadians really wanted from us, but refrained from asking Darcy this, as her temper could be as fiery as her red hair and definitely was on this occasion.



Darcy was part of this little-known agency in Canada that had a young-agent training process similar to the one I had been through. She had been training since twelve, was obviously very bright, and seemed like a naïve little girl – which helped her immensely.



Small and slim, she had bright blue eyes and a head of bright red hair that matched her sunny personality, not to mention brought out the Canadian in her. She was one of those people who were perpetually happy about absolutely nothing, and that helped me. As an older agent that was nonetheless close to her in age, I was very interesting to her, and she followed me everywhere, watching my training, picking up tips, and chattering away.



Initially, I had thought she would grow irritating, but there was something gratifying about having her tag along with me. Maybe it was her endless babbling, or her constant positive attitude, or simply that she was another human being, but I could feel my spirits lifting as the weeks went by. October drew to an end, and Young told me that Josh was expected back here within two weeks regardless of whether or not he had located Pierre.



I vented my feelings by going down to the gym and getting on one of the treadmills. Running was the easiest way to relieve stress, I had found, and it kept me in shape as well. Boredom wasn’t an unknown feeling to me in those weeks, and this was as good an activity as anything to keep me out of it. I was on my third mile when Darcy found me. She entered the gym so quietly that I didn’t hear her above the noise of the treadmill.



“Do you have a minute?” She spoke with that small hint of an accent that most Canadians carry: not enough to be very distinct, but with that little lilt that makes you know they aren’t American. I knew that she was fully capable of speaking in a perfect American accent, slang and all, as well as dialects from dozens of other countries as well, but preferred speaking in her native voice whenever possible.



Plucking an earphone out, I turned my head to look at her. She walked around to the front of the treadmill so that I could continue running. For once, her blue eyes looked serious and there was a puzzled expression on her face. I turned off my iPod to listen to her as she looked at me for a long moment.



“What’s on your mind?” I asked, still moving my legs as smoothly as I could.



Darcy bit her lip, looking down at her hands. I mirrored that and noticed that she was holding something, fingering it uncertainly. “I was in Young’s office,” she said suddenly, “because he wanted to see me, you know, and while I was waiting for him, I couldn’t resist taking a look at his desk and his bag.”



I smiled at her pronunciation of bag – it had come out “bayg,” as most Canadians seemed to say. “Can’t blame you there. Done it several times myself.”



Her finger twisted a long strand of red hair. “Yes…well…” She took a deep breath, lifted her hand to the front of the treadmill, and put something on the display board. “I was glancing through some papers, and I found a file on this person – with your name, the word terminate, and a bunch of question marks written all over it.” Her hand flattened the piece of paper, hesitated, and then drew away so that I could see the small photograph.



Jay.



My feet forgot to carry on moving, but that didn’t stop the belt of the treadmill. I slid backwards, toppling over the end of it and crashing to the floor. Darcy switched off the machine quickly, her head poking around the side of it with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked in concern, and I nodded slowly.



“How the hell…” My mouth couldn’t find words. “Do you – know who he is?” I asked finally, getting to my feet and plucking the photograph off the display board to look more closely at it. It was a facial shot, one of Jay with an unsmiling face and mysterious-looking blue eyes. Everything about him was painfully familiar, from the curve of his eyebrow to the flow of his hair, and I found myself curling the edges of the paper as I clenched my fist.



“No,” replied Darcy, coming to stand next to me. “I’ve never seen him before.”



“Hmm…” He seemed to be looking right at me, even though it was only a photograph. In a sudden, violent movement, I crumpled the picture and held it tightly in my hand, looking up at Darcy. “What else did the file say?”



She shrugged. “Not sure. I didn’t get to take that good a look at it. Just something about France and Delta and a few rogue agents and…Montana.” The irrepressible grin that I had become accustomed to spread across her face. “Kind of a random state, don’t you think?” Hesitating, she looked from my clenched hand to my face, which I was sure had darkened considerably. “I’m going to guess that you know him.”



I blew out hard through my mouth. “He’s…an old friend.”



A lift of an eyebrow. “More like an ex-boyfriend, I’m thinking.”



I gave her a sharp look.



“What?” She smiled slyly. “People say I am uncannily perceptive. Maybe I should be a fortune teller, eh?”



Rolling my eyes, I wiped beads of sweat off my forehead and began to move towards the exit of the gym. Darcy came running after me, making her eyes go wide in a puppy-dog look as she begged, “Tell me, Astrid, please!” I managed to stay strong for a grand total of fifteen seconds before breaking down with a sigh. When the kid looked at me like that, I just couldn’t stand firm. She knew how to use her baby-blues to full effect, and did so often.



“All right, you win,” I grumbled, pushing through the doors of the gym exit and entering the corridor. “Just wait a few minutes, though, okay?”



She pulled a face. “Do I have to wait until you shower and everything?”



“Do you really want to be in the same room with me when I’m this sweaty?”



A sigh escaped her lips. “Fine,” she grumbled, and I raised an eyebrow. Anyone would have thought that I had asked her to do something obnoxious, like assassinate the President by dawn or something. Grinning, I ruffled her hair with a damp palm and began wrapping my headphones around my iPod, turning the corner to ad towards my dorm room and the showers.



“But make it a five-minute one!” Darcy called from behind me, and I glanced back to see her standing with her hands on her hips.



“What, you think I’m magical or something?” I shot back, and she stuck her tongue out at me as I disappeared from her sight, laughing to myself. This was one of the reasons I enjoyed having Darcy around. Somehow she always lifted me out of my funk, and usually for some time.



Showering and redressing took me only ten minutes, but I was still reluctant to find Darcy and explain everything to her. How could I possibly tell her about Jay? There was way too much to cover, and I didn’t want to reveal most of it. I had no idea where he was in the world, or if he was thinking of me – but I didn’t want him to be thinking of me, did I?



For a few long minutes, I sat on my bed and stared at his photograph in my hand, debating what to tell the redheaded Canadian. After some time, my phone buzzed next to me, and I glanced at it to see an arriving text from Darcy: its been way more than 5 mins! when r u coming? With a smile I couldn’t suppress, I ignored the text, pocketed both the photograph and my phone, and exited the room.



I stopped just outside of Alan Young’s office, staring at the door in indecision as my mind whirled through what Darcy had told me. The picture had been in a file…with the word terminate? What was that all about? A rush of resentment came through me at the thought of Delta’s leader, at the secrets he kept from us. Then again, it was all part of the job. But I felt the need to snoop around a little, find out why Jay’s picture had that word scrawled across it.



Reaching out a hand, I grasped the doorknob, prepared for it to be locked.



“Oh, how nice. I was just looking for you.”



Years of training had taught me to be as casual as possible: I turned to look at the speaker with an innocent look on my face. Alan Young stood a few feet away, a smile plastered on his face but a cold look in his eyes. He thought all this mess was my fault, all right, and right up there with me was a certain Jay Nicholson. His eyes moved over me, assessing me, as I moved away from the door and smiled at him.



“Funny. I was looking for you, too.”



The smile fell away from his face. “I have news for you,” he began, and a chill went through me at his tone. “Good news” – catching sight of my face – “that you will be thrilled to hear.” I raised an eyebrow as his tone brushed upon sarcasm. “Steiner is returning today – in about half an hour, to be exact – and LaPointe is with him.”



The air whooshed out of my lungs. For a moment, I simply stood there staring at my boss as his words processed through my mind, all thoughts of Jay flying away. Young held my gaze for a long moment, until I found my voice.



“Today?”



“In about half an hour,” he affirmed, his face deadpan. My mind returned to normal thought processing and then sped up to supercharged. Josh was coming back here…with Pierre…in half an hour…Were they all right? How come I hadn’t heard about it? And what did I do with the whole Jay issue? I looked down at the photo in my hand, hesitating, dying to ask Alan Young about it. His eyes moved to it and I crumpled it into my fist, meeting his eyes coolly.



“We have…many things to discuss,” he said in a quiet voice that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was probably very obvious.



“Where will they come in?” I asked in an abrupt voice, sliding the picture into the back pocket of my jeans. He held my eyes for a long moment, contemplating me, and then he began to turn away. I opened my mouth, moving forward to protest, but he tossed a few words over his shoulder.



“The lobby.” His eyes were cold. “And then, later, when they’re all rested – we will discuss what happened in France.”



“That’ll be fun,” I mumbled under my breath as he moved away. Remaining motionless in front of his office for another moment, in which I tried to bring my thoughts together, I then broke into a run down the hallway as his words finally came through my befuddled mind.



Josh and Pierre were coming here.



Hurtling down the hallway, I almost killed at least two people but managed to stay upright the entire time. I reached the lobby in a minute, skidding on the floor as I paused just inside the door, my eyes moving around the room rapidly before I realized that Young had said about half an hour.



Several other people were in the lobby as well – a secretary, a man on a phone, and two agents that looked as though they could be waiting for Josh’s team – and all gave me strange looks as I held on to the sides of the doorway as I tried to focus. Slowly, I approached the secretary’s desk, glaring down the other agents until they looked away. Sticking my fisted hands into my Notre Dame hoodie in an effort to look in control, I coughed slightly to gain her attention, as she was trying to make it look like she hadn’t been staring at me.



“Excuse me.” Politeness just barely crept into my voice. “Are you in contact with the team that is supposed to be arriving soon?”



She opened her mouth to answer, moving her reading glasses down her nose with one of those you-just-interrupted-this-very-important-work looks on her face, but the man who had been speaking on his phone now ended his call and turned to look in my direction. “That would be me,” he said, making eye contact and not breaking it as I looked over at him. “You’re Astrid von Shauff?” And when I nodded, “Ah. Young told me you’d be down here.”



I chose not to respond, merely holding my hand out in front of me. He looked down in confusion; I shook it in irritation. “The phone, please. So that I can call my best friend and my – um, my other friend – and see if they’re okay.” One of those I’ve-been-ordered-not-to looks began to come over his face, and I added in an almost pleading voice, “Please. I haven’t talked to them in a month, and I thought Pierre was dead.”



A flicker of hesitation passed over his face as he met my eyes, and I made sure they were full of tragedy and were wide enough to pull him in. I could almost see him crumbling to his will, but then the secretary coughed, and his eyes snapped back to business-mode as he shook his head firmly.



“I have my orders. You can wait here for them, but you are not allowed to contact them in any way.” He eyed me in a stern but slightly amused way. “And nice try with the whole big-eyed thing, but remember: I took the same training as you did.”



Making a face, I threw myself down into one of the chairs that lined the walls of the lobby, digging the toe of my boot into the carpet as I began the long wait. The contact agent was speaking to the secretary in a low voice, who nodded and then made a call. I was burning with resentment at Young’s attitude towards me. He wasn’t allowing me to contact them, he wasn’t allowing me to go out there to find them, he wasn’t allowing me to know if they were okay…what was I allowed to do?



Wait.



It was probably the longest half an hour of my life. I spent it alternately putting my head in my hands as I thought of what might have happened to them – images of Charlie coming back to me in frightening clarity – or staring at the ceiling, or trying not to strangle either the secretary or the contact agent as they continued to do their duties in a maddeningly quiet air. I knew the agents that were returning. I had been with them. Didn’t that account for something?



The contact agent tensed unexpectedly, and then began moving towards the door, issuing rapid-fire orders to the other two who were in the room. I shot to my feet, tripping over someone’s bag as I hurried to the agent, demanding to know what was going on. He shrugged me off, saying something about medical help into his com unit. My mouth went dry and I stopped on the spot, my eyes fixed on the lobby doors.



At last – a year, or maybe a minute later – they swung open, and a long white medical cot was wheeled in rapidly by two medics. They said something to one of the agents, who immediately began leading them out of the room. I stayed out of the way but managed to catch a peek at who was on the cot – a pale-faced woman with what looked like a bullet wound through her shoulder. My fear rising, I turned in time to see another cot being driven in.



A familiar splash of dark hair was just visible on one end, and my heart stopped as I recognized the face that lay beneath it. For a moment, I couldn’t move, and then I was stumbling forward, crashing to a halt at the side of the cot. The agent made a noise of irritation, the other agents in the team were filing in, and the medics were screaming at me to get out of their way, but I ignored all of this as I gazed down at the pale face below.



Slowly, the eyes opened, revealing the achingly recognizable green eyes that looked dazed as they met my own. My breath left my lungs and for a moment I could only stand and stare at his face before I reached out a trembling hand. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth moving as he raised one hand to touch my own, hanging on to it with me supporting it.



“I’m sorry,” the medic was saying to me in a voice that suggested he was anything but, “you need to go. He needs attention.”



“No,” Pierre rasped. “I’m fine. The woman – the other agent – she needs more help than I do. Let us – let us talk a moment.” He kept his eyes fixed on me the entire time, and after an exchange of frustrated looks, the medics moved away from us to the secretary’s desk, most likely to check in.



I dropped to my knees so that I was closer to his level, one hand still tight in a tensed fist while the other remained clenched tightly in his. He reached up to touch my hair, but his hand fell down as a peculiar uncertainty came over his face. A touch of some emotion – almost guilt – flashed through his eyes before he smiled slightly, showing enough of those flawless white teeth to make my stomach flip over.



“Good to see you.” His voice was hoarse and slightly pained, but his eyes roamed over my face hungrily. I nodded, biting my lip as words refused to come. He looked at me for a long moment, and then whispered, “I’m sorry…for everything. The manor, and sending Charlie in there–”



At his name, a dagger seemed to pierce my heart. Pain shooting through my chest, I tightened my grip on his hand involuntarily, causing him to wince. He tugged it out of my grip, touching my face gently. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice soft. “Josh told me everything – I didn’t know…”



Forcing a smile onto my face, I swept a strand of hair out of his eyes. “None of it is your fault.”



His eyes were sad, and I wanted to kiss him, but the photo in my back pocket seemed to be burning through the material holding it in, and so I merely closed my fingers over his hands again, burying my face on top of them for a moment before a voice sounded near us.



“Oh, okay. No need to welcome this veteran.”



Relief shot through me like a lightning bolt. I raised my head to see Josh’s crooked grin on his wan-looking face, his blue-green eyes smudged with dark circles, his hair a mess, and his hand gripping his shoulder – but fully alive and well. Springing to my feet, I threw my arms around him and hugged him with all the enthusiasm of a four-year-old welcoming her father home from work. He gave me a one-armed embrace in return, and as I released him, I saw the slight pain in his eyes.



“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.” I glanced at his shoulder. “What did you do to it?”



He made a wry face. “Found out that barns are made of tougher stuff than I thought.” I must have made a concerned face, because he changed the subject. “How about a happy birthday, huh?”



“Birthday?” I repeated blankly, stepping back.



There was that grin again, irrepressible as ever. “October thirty-first, darling; that would be today’s date. You’re looking at a Halloween baby, remember?”



My mouth fell open as I worked through the days in my head. “You’re right!” For some reason, excitement burst through me. “Happy Birthday!” I began to give him another hug, but he stepped away from me discreetly and I remembered his shoulder in time to turn it into a high-five accompanied with a low-five.



“Don’t even try the middle, because I know I’ll miss it,” he said, his tone joking but his eyes tired.



“And I can second that.” A familiar-looking man joined us, clapping Josh on the shoulder – he winced – and then apologizing quickly. He looked like he had been in charge of Josh’s group, but I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. His eyes scanned me for a moment. “You’re looking better than you did in France,” he commented, and I frowned slightly.



“Hans Wulf,” Josh introduced, shrugging the older man’s hand off his shoulder with a nettled expression. “He was the ‘leader’ of our little modus operandi.” And I suddenly realized where I had seen him. He had joined us in the lobby of the French police station, but all that was a painful blur now.



Wulf laughed. “You can tell how much Joshie appreciated that, huh?” He grinned at my best friend, mussing up his hair playfully with one hand. “I love you, kid, you know that, right?”



“Aw, get lost,” Josh muttered, ducking away from him. “Go check on Janice, please; do something useful.”



The smile vanished. “You’re right.” Wulf glanced at us both. “Good to see you two together again. Kid, make sure you get that shoulder checked up ASAP, you hear me? Consider that an order.”



“You know how I feel about the orders.” Josh pushed him in the direction of the door. “Now get out.”



Laughing once more, the agent left the room. Josh looked half-amused, half-annoyed, and I could tell by this that there had been several clashes between the two of them, most likely over orders. I studied his face for a moment, but I could only see a heavy weariness. “Is that woman badly injured?”



“Janice?” Josh grinned unexpectedly. “She’s marrying Wulf – can you believe that?” I gave him an exasperated look, and he added in a hurry, “I mean, yes, she’ll be fine, don’t worry. She was shot through the shoulder, but she’ll be able to shrug it off.” He smirked, and I rolled my eyes. “Hey, it’s my birthday, you can’t make fun of me,” he complained.



“She can and will,” came Pierre’s voice from behind us, and, feeling a little guilty about ignoring him, I turned to look at him. His face was growing steadily whiter as he attempted to smile at me and wished Josh a Happy Birthday, reprimanding him in a sarcastic tone for not telling everyone so that I could have had a surprise party waiting.



I was immediately filled with concern at his condition. “You need the hospital.”



“No,” he protested. “I’m telling you, I’m just exhausted and a bit smoky – Josh can tell you – he’s the one who should be seeing someone for that shoulder.”



“What about Cloying’s men?” I retorted. “You’re saying they did nothing to you? I don’t believe it.”



“It wasn’t that bad–” he began, but I called for the medics and they came over to where we were, looking highly irritated for being at my beck and call. Josh stood back with an amused look on his face as one snapped, “Finally able to take care of our patients,” in a supremely irate voice. Pierre beckoned with one finger to me and I leaned over him as they prepared to wheel him out.



“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice growing fainter. “For everything.”



“What?”



He was already moving away, the medics pushing him rapidly as if to make up for their lack of duty. His eyes remained fixated to mine as he disappeared from the room, and I was once again stuck stock-still as I tried to think about what he had said. Was he just feeling guilt about everything that had happened? I had told him that it wasn’t his fault….No, all of it was my fault.



“Hey.” Josh’s voice was soft as his eyes looked at me shrewdly. “You okay?”



I opened my mouth to reply that I was just fine, thank you, but nothing came out and I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Blinking hard to keep myself in control, I managed to do some sort of nod that was partially shaking my head no, and a look of understanding came over my best friend’s face. With a shake of his head, he glanced around the now mostly-deserted lobby.



“Let’s sit.”



He fell more than sat down into one of the chairs I had been occupying just minutes before. Perching on the one next to him, I looked with concern at his fatigued face and the way he was gripping his shoulder with one hand. Catching these looks, he gave me an irritated glance and waved it away.



“I’m fine. Really.”



He continued to look at me until I met his eyes with some reluctance; I knew what he was going to say and didn’t want to hear it. “Astrid,” he began in a quiet tone, “no one blames you for Charlie’s death. You don’t need to blame yourself.” I closed my eyes at the mention of his name, feeling the icy hand close over my heart again. Josh placed his hand over mine. “Astrid? You okay?”



As his words registered, I opened my eyes again, forcing the memories to the back of my mind. “I’m okay,” I replied in that dull monotone that I had become accustomed to using whenever Charlie was brought up. “Everything’s going to be okay.”



His brow furrowed for a moment, disquiet in his eyes as he looked at me. “Don’t be like that,” he murmured. “Please – don’t go into yourself like that. It scares me.”



Breathe. “Sorry.”



With another sigh, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. “I’m telling you, this last month has been hell, not to mention September.” He glanced over at me, and I could see how grey his face looked in the bright light. “At least you’ve been indoors, huh?”



“Yeah, well…”



I couldn’t find a way of telling him that the last two months hadn’t exactly been a picnic for me either without sounding like a little brat. He had obviously been through a lot more than I had. I could feel the picture in my back pocket, and after some hesitation, reached back and slid it out, holding it so that Josh couldn’t see what it was.



“Um…” How to put it?



Josh glanced at my hand. “What’s that?”



I couldn’t meet his eyes as I unfurled my fingers slowly to reveal Jay’s face in the palm of my hand. Josh’s eyebrows flew together as his eyes focused on it, and a distinctly dark-looking expression came over his face. His fingers clenched into a fist, and then he leaned forward suddenly, closing his hand over the photo and taking it from my hand. He looked at me for a long moment, then at Jay’s picture, and then threw it on the floor.



“You need to get some things sorted out.” His voice was low but furious, his eyes snapping as he looked over at me. “You’re obsessed with him. Then Pierre comes back and you’re all over him. It makes me sick. Not to mention Ch–” He stopped, but the anger hadn’t left his face. “You wanna talk about this?”



After that little outburst, I didn’t really want to, and I looked at the floor, feeling more than a little hurt and confused. When I chanced glancing up at him, he was avoiding my eyes, glowering at the wall. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. “I – I just found it in Young’s office, and I need to know what it means.”



Josh rolled his eyes, looking back at me in annoyance. “It means your little ex-boyfriend is still in their file for leaving Delta like he did, which isn’t surprising as it sounds. Do you know what they accused him of doing?” He was speaking too quickly, too angrily, his words tumbling out of his mouth. “He killed some agents, Astrid, didn’t you know that? Oh no – he didn’t tell you –”



“I knew,” I cut in, my voice icy. His eyes cut back to me, widening slightly as he realized what he had said. “Jay told me. In the manor. About how you and Charlie didn’t bother to tell me why he left – or was kicked out, more like.”



His mouth had fallen open.



“Yeah, I know,” I continued, my voice trembling. “I trusted you guys, but you couldn’t have bothered to say anything, could you? When I was a mess for weeks after he walked out on us?”



Josh’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes going cold. “Oh, okay, turn this all on me,” he growled. “Because it’s totally my fault that he walked out on you. He doesn’t love you, Astrid; get that through your head. He killed your best friend.” I winced, but he plowed on, his eyes like bullets. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything, okay? I was trying to help you because I figured you’d go after him, and I didn’t need you on Delta’s to-kill list either.”



“That’s what Charlie said,” I murmured, pulling my sleeve over my palm to erase some of the sweat that had formed there. “When I asked him why he didn’t tell me.”



His eyes softened a little. “You know, I don’t know if you noticed, but when Charlie did something for you, he usually meant it in the best way possible.” I pushed the ground with the toe of my boot, avoiding his eyes, and he hesitated. “I’m not sure if this is a good time to tell you, but–”



“So that’s why you didn’t want to tell me!”



Josh and I jumped nearly a foot into the air, turning in the direction of the lobby entrance to see Darcy standing there, a half-triumphant, half-mad look on her face. I stammered something helplessly as she advanced on us, crossing her arms and tossing her red hair away from her face as she fixed me with a glare.



“You didn’t come to meet me, Astrid.”



“Uhh…I was a bit…caught up?” I offered.



An elegant lift of an eyebrow. “Uh-huh?”



“She was coming to meet her long-lost friends,” Josh put in, a grin spreading across his face as he looked over the fourteen-year-old Canadian. “We’ve been gone for almost two months, and she’s been wallowing in despair as she waited for our return. Now it has happened, and nothing could keep her away.”



“Thank you, Shakespeare.” Darcy was the queen of sarcasm when she wanted to be. “But I’m pretty sure I know best about all the wallowing she’s been doing lately, since I’ve been near her.” She fixed him with a beady look. “Who are you, anyway? And how do you know this Jay person, too? Is he really her boyfriend? Told you, didn’t I, Astrid; told you I knew he was.”



“Whoa, slow down.” Josh put his hands up to stop her. “How about we ask you some questions first, okay? Who are you?”



Smiling in spite of myself, I stood up, slinging my arm around Darcy’s shoulders and tugging her hair affectionately. “This is Darcy Jones. She’s like an angel in disguise, but a devil on the outside. I’ve come to know that she’s secretly both.” This earned me a jab in the side. “Ouch! Anyway, she’s an agent from Toronto who has come to Delta for extra training or something, because we’re allies with Canada.”



Josh looked amused. “Young, sharing Delta secrets? Miracles do happen. You must really be an angel, Darce.”



I grinned. Darcy looked a little put out. “My name’s Darcy,” she corrected in an annoyed tone. “I don’t do ‘Darce.’ Rhymes with farce. Just doesn’t sit right, you know?”



He stared at her for a moment as if not sure of what he was seeing, and then broke into a gale of laughter that ended in a bout of coughing. I looked at him in concern, but he forestalled any statement by raising a warning hand. “Don’t start on me, too, Astrid. I’ll be just fine, I promise.” He inhaled sharply, got his breathing under control, and then eyed the little redhead. “How old?”



“Am I?” She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Need a homecoming date?”



Josh smirked. “I’m available, love, if you need me.”



I groaned. “Don’t get him started, DJ,” I told her. “He’s worse than you at this, trust me. No, he is not asking you out, he’s just curious about how young Canada is beginning to have their agents. We started at ten, you know.”



“DJ?” Josh asked.



“Darcy Jones,” said she. “Astrid seems to find it amusing.”



Josh grinned. “And she thinks we’re immature, huh?”



Darcy allowed a small smile to escape over her face before pushing my arm off her shoulders and giving me a stern look. “No avoiding the topic,” she scolded. “What’s all this about this Jay person, why is he your ex, because that picture looked pretty attractive, and why did he kill Charlie?”



Josh gave me a sideways look, and I returned with a tiny shrug. “Look, Darcy,” I began, and then realized I had no idea where to begin. My eyes floated to the photo on the floor and my jaw clenched. “Josh needs to get to the infirmary, even if he doesn’t think so. I need to think about what exactly I can tell you about all this. We’ll talk about this later, I promise.”



She pouted. “You said that, like, three hours ago.”



Josh stood, stretching with a pained look on his face. “Come on, kid, escort me to the doc. I’ll educate you on how not to push Astrid’s buttons on the way, okay?” Darcy frowned at him, but then pulled open the door and allowed him to walk through. She met my eyes for a long moment – I nodded to show that I meant it – and then she disappeared after him down the hallway.



After a moment, I moved to follow them, but then my eyes fell on Jay’s picture once more, lying forlornly on the floor, discarded from my life like an unwanted card at a poker game. Josh’s words flicked through my mind, guilt surging through me as I thought of all he had done to me. And yet I still felt for him, feelings that I weren’t sure of, emotions that I didn’t think I could contain.



In a sudden, decisive move, I stooped and snatched up the photo, sliding it back into my pocket and turning to leave the room.



Delta’s discarded Joker.



Not quite, Jay, not quite.