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ohprettyweeper-moved · 5 years

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The Last Bandito

Part Fourteen: Drawing Lines in the Sand

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: With everyone back in New Dema, they must choose which side of the war between the old and new cities they will take. Warnings: Angst? Word Count: 2275 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate! -- This is the second to last part for this series! I’ve decided that where I want to take it after part fifteen is better in a sequel than continuing as one longgggg series. Looking forward to continuing the story for these characters, and I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it!

“Where do we go?”

Ildri took a moment before answering Quinn’s question. Her instinct was to go to The Conference, but something in her gut told her that move would be unwise. She considered their options long enough that Quinn grew uncertain if Ildri had heard her or not.

“Ildri?”

Ildri shook out of her thoughts. “Yes, sorry. We’ll go back to my place. It’s time for Faylinn to know about all of this.”

“Faylinn?” Tyler repeated.

“My cousin. I live with her. We’re close, but …” Ildri shrugged.

“Not close enough for you to tell her about this,” Josh supplied. “I’ve dreamed of her, you know.”

Ildri frowned. “You dreamed of her?”

Josh nodded as they all continued to walk. “I’d dream of being here with her, or that she was in Old Dema. Sometimes we were together, sometimes she was me.”

Ildri couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “She dreamed of you, too.”

Josh smiled too, and the rest of the walk to New Dema was spent in silence. Ildri and Quinn were nervous as to what Faylinn would think about what they had to tell her, Tyler was working through old memories that were new again, and Josh was looking forward to seeing Faylinn for more than a few seconds on the sidewalk in front of her house.

They took the back alleys to Ildri’s house, staying in the shadows and out of sight as much as possible. Even with their hoods up, the less they could attract attention while they figured all of this out, the better. Lights could be seen through the windows, alerting them that Faylinn was home.

“Fay! Fay, you here?” Ildri called as she led them all up the stairs. There was no answer, but she kept up her path anyway. She wasn’t so worried, until she saw Andre Weil seated at the kitchen table, and three government guards standing behind him.

“Ildri,” he greeted, nodding at her. “New friends?”

She swallowed hard. “New and old. What are you doing here?”

He looked to his left; Ildri’s eyes followed his gaze. Faylinn was leaned against the far counter, unable to meet eyes with Ildri.

“Your cousin followed you to Old Dema,” Andre explained. “I’m sure she couldn’t have known you were coming back with Heathens in tow, especially since she saw you and Quinn kill some of them. Care to explain?”

“They don’t know who you are?” Quinn whispered.

Ildri held eyes with Andre. “The government was involved with my very early upbringing, but they were never given my name, for my own protection. Those who trained me were not given my name, either. They just called me ‘Bandito’. When I got old enough and skilled enough to make it in and out of Old Dema for rescues, I was given a phone for the government to call me and tell me when I was needed.”

“Except she has recently been neglecting assignments,” Andre added. “Both as Ildri, and as her Bandito counterpart.”

“Counterpart,” Ildri scoffed. “I am who I am, Andre, yellow eyes or not. When you started to go after Quinn for almost no reason, and I began to really evaluate what I was doing, who I was working for.”

Andre nodded. “And Quinn? What of her? Another Heathen?”

“Dearg-due,” Quinn corrected, stepping next to Ildri and speaking up for herself. “It’s genetic.”

“I’m sure,” Andre chuckled. “We’ll find out more from your friends later. The four of you will be taken into government custody and kept until we decide what your fate will be. Take them now.”

Ildri stepped away from the guards. “You don’t have to cuff me. I’ll go willingly. I would recommend to you three to do the same.” She took a long look at Faylinn, who still would not look at her. “You could have — should have — talked to me first, Fay. I thought we had more trust than that.”

“You’re a murderer, Ildri!” Faylinn replied, finally making eye contact with her cousin. “Those Heathens, they didn’t choose that life! They were stolen, by the Bishops. Their lives were decided by others who should have had no say!”

Ildri shook her head. “They weren’t the only ones, Fay.”

Josh leaned back against the wall of the room where he was being kept in New Dema. Though it was nicer than the cell in Old Dema where he and Tyler had waited to see where their lives would go next, it was still confinement. It was still wait-and-see, and this time, he was on his own.

Seeing Faylinn again was a bag of mixed emotions. Their interactions had been only through dreams, but Josh would have thought they had enough between them for her to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“All of that wasn’t about you,” he reminded himself with a sigh. “She was scared.”

But the truth was, Josh was scared, too. In Old Dema, he had known what to likely expect from any given situation. The Bishops set hard and fast rules, with hard and fast precedences to support their intentions. In New Dema, everything was unfamiliar.

Except for Faylinn. Even after her actions, even after a move that resembled betrayal, Josh couldn’t get her out of his head. As the hour grew late and sleep creeped up on him, he still hoped to dream of her.

“Explain to me what you are, exactly.”

The man sitting across the table from Quinn was Szolem Mandelbrojt. He had introduced himself, and otherwise, Quinn knew him only by name, as part of The Conference. He seemed less self-involved than Andre Weil, but Quinn still did not trust him. She didn’t know who to trust at this point.

After finishing the same lecture she gave to her students, Quinn shrugged. “That’s it.”

“So heartbreak is what triggers the condition,” Szolem surmised, jotting down notes on the pad of lined paper in front of him.

“It’s a monster, ser. You call it a condition, but the bloodlust — it’s a monster. You might as well call it what it is.”

Szolem considered her for a moment before nodding. “Very well. Heartbreak triggers the monster. What was your heartbreak, Ms. Walsh?”

Quinn swallowed hard. “Nothing.”

“No heartbreak?”

“I didn’t say that. I said ‘nothing’. The fear of succumbing to the monster kept me to myself, but loneliness can be just as heartbreaking as anything else, I’ve learned.”

More notes. “And how often does the con — the monster — appear?”

Quinn went over the basic details, answering questions as the man asked them. Andre Weil had put her under the impression that her fate would be less than desirable, but Szolem was giving her some sense of calm, even in the face of her possible death.

When his questions were wrapped up, he set his pen down and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “What we seek to do here, Ms. Walsh, is find answers. The Bishops are in the business of death, but, as is traditional for life outside of Old Dema, we do not want to end anyone’s life. With the help of the Bandito, we have been trying for some time to alleviate the Heathen change. The process has been challenging, as we must find what will counteract not only The Serum, which the Bishops use in conjunction with the vampire disease, but the vampiric virus itself.”

Quinn could manage a voice barely above a whisper. “What does that have to do with me?”

“If we can isolate the bloodlust, we could potentially solve your problem as well. If you’re interested in such an opportunity.”

Was she interested? She had learned only hours ago that she could control the monster within her, but Quinn still had so much to learn about how far she could take her control. If she could learn to control it, to fully control the urge, perhaps she could pass the information on to her family. They could pass it on to others — there was no telling how far her knowledge could reach.

“Of course, if you were to participate in the program, you would be required to stay here in New Dema, continue with your job at the university, and follow any other guidelines set forth by The Conference.”

There’s the catch, Quinn thought to herself. Controlling the monster would mean nothing if she could not exercise that control to see how far she could take it. She had the inkling, as well, that being involved in this program would mean staying far away from Ildri, and possibly even Faylinn.

Right back into the loneliness.

Ildri sat in the chair at her desk in Andre Weil’s office. He paced back and forth, lecturing her about loyalties and what all the New Dema government had done for her.

“Then you turn your back on The Conference, on me?”

Ildri stood from her chair. “I did not turn my back on anyone! I followed what was expected of me, from the time New Dema took me from my mother and left her to die, up until recently. Then, I realized — we are not so different here than in Old Dema. There may not be Bishops, but there is you. And The Conference. I followed all of it so blindly, for so long. I can’t keep doing that, Andre! I cannot keep following a government that does not allow its citizens the freedom to decide for themselves!”

“You decided for yourself that you were going to stop accepting missions, did you not?”

“And tell me you did not start digging to find out who this Bandito was the moment I said that my services were not available.”

Andre took a step back. He stared Ildri down for a good minute before crossing his arms over his chest. “Faylinn ended that search for us. Here’s how this will go, Ildri. Quinn is being offered an opportunity to be in the cure program, and the same will be offered to your Heathen friends. If they accept, they will be allowed to stay in New Dema, under strict supervision. If they do not accept, they will be returned to Old Dema. Your decision now, Bandito, is whether you will stay here, only fulfill the missions given to you by The Conference, and do your duties here without question or secrets.”

“And if I don’t accept that?”

His arms dropped and his chest puffed out with confidence. “Then I’m sorry, but you will no longer be welcome here in New Dema. Which means there is only one place left for you to go.”

Ildri shook her head, knowing that there was a third option — one her ancestors had taken advantage of for years before she was even born. She was ready with her decision immediately, but she had to play this smart if she was going to protect others.

“I want to talk to the Heathens first.”

Andre held his hands up as if in surrender. “A small request. I’ll allow it.”

Tyler sat next to Josh in the small room, on one side of the table. The guards had left them there, but stood on the other side of the door to keep them where they were. Both men knew that they could easily escape, but perhaps it was in everyone’s best interest to bide their time.

When the door finally opened, Ildri was the one who came into the room. Tyler was up from his chair and embracing her almost before she knew what was coming. She returned his embrace, then asked him to sit down and hear her out.

“I wasn’t sure what they would do with you,” Tyler admitted. “I was worried.”

Ildri let out a deep breath. “They say I’m a traitor. Maybe I am. All I know is that I did what I had to do. Now you two have to decide what you must do. They will offer for you to stay here, under their rules, or they will turn you away. Back to Old Dema. I’ve been given the same choice.”

Tyler pursed his lips. “You and I spent a lot of years apart. All of this has happened now, and I’m not going to let it keep me from you any longer, Ildri. We have each other’s secrets, and even in the short time we knew each other as kids, we built a strong connection. I can’t — I don’t know how to explain it. What I’m trying to say is, whatever you decide, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Me too,” Josh chimed in. “I don’t know you like Tyler does, but I’ve heard stories of the last Bandito for years. Humans and Heathens alike talk about you in Old Dema as the savior of all of us. I have no doubt that you will make a right decision.”

“I’m far from a savior,” Ildri sighed, “and I hope I’m making the right decision. I’m not staying here, but I’m not going to Old Dema, either.”

“Where will you go?” Josh frowned. “The middle forest?”

Ildri shook her head. “No. I want to start over. In Trench. The first Banditos did it, and I think we can, too. I know we can.”

Tyler and Josh exchanged a look. Trench was more open and there was a serious risk to living there where the Bishops could more easily find them and drag them right back to Old Dema. With the knowledge between the three of them, however, there were ways to avoid the Bishops, as well. Josh nodded, and so did Tyler.

“Okay,” Tyler said, confidently. “We’re with you.”

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