"I don't think you should be doing this," Jon said.

I leaned against one of the big heavy crates, the ones filled with loads and loads of paintings and fancy frames, and frowned at his words.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I hissed into my phone, trying to keep my voice low as I watched cars and people stopping by the large entrance of the Prairie Mansion, buzzing and chattering with excitement for the exhibits that waited ahead.

"What I just said," Jon answered. "I don't think you should be going there as Cinder Girl."

I ducked out of sight as an old aged couple looked my way, ascending the steps to the entrance. None of them, as far as I could see, had been the two ski-masked men I was told to follow.

"I am already here. And I'm on orders, Jon." I murmured, still frowning. "I can't just...Someone has to stop them before they fuck things up."

Jon made an aggravated noise on the other end. Perhaps I really shouldn't have told him about this--the fact that I was here right now, masked and ready to fight.

"It doesn't have to be you!" He exclaimed and I grimaced. "You and I both know Orias could've asked anyone to be there right now instead of you."

I shook my head even if he couldn't see me. "But he asked me, Jon. It's his way of being sure that he can trust me again. I can't really blame him."

"You should." He pressed. "You saw the hacked data. You saw what the Agency is upto."

My heart fluttered anxiously as I watched two hooded figures rounding the entrance and heading for the staff doors.

"Yes, but we don't know the whole story," I said. "We only know bits of it. I know Orias must have a reason for it and for not telling me."

Jon was mostly silent as I exited the other way and hurried towards the staff doors where the two figures had disappeared.

"You don't always have to trust him so blindly," Jon said and this time he sounded fairly angry. "He could be wrong too, Dahlia. He could be--Will you at least wait for the backup to arrive?"

I stopped as I entered what looked like the grand kitchens to me. Several chefs bustled about, as well as the servants and waitresses. I almost nearly bumped into one carrying a large silver tray.

"Oh my God! It's you!" The lady came to a halt, her eyes rounding in surprise. Her hands fluttered to her sides, smoothing down her crisp white apron. "Oh my...my niece is such a big fan! She's in love with you!"

I winced and pulled my phone away from my ear.

"Hey, you!" It was one of the burly chefs this time. "This is a staff-only area! Who let you--"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I stepped near the lady who still had her wide eyes on me. "I'm sorry, ma'am, did you see two hooded men passing by? Could you tell me?"

She was nodding way before I could've finished my sentence, pointing towards the door which led to the stairs.

"Thank you!" I murmured quickly. "Tell your niece I love her too." And then I was dashing away before the chef could've caught up with me.

As I went up the steps, Jon's muffled voice came from my phone.

"Fuck, sorry." I put it back to my ear. "I'm kind of in a rush, Jon. I've got to go. I promise I'll call you when I'm out."

I heard him sigh in a way that said he was seconds away from losing it. "Call him. Call Jamie."

"What?" I asked, baffled. "Why?"

I hadn't really seen Jamie since that morning--my birthday morning. Not even at night, and I would know since I had stayed awake late last night, unable to sleep. He'd left and hadn't arrived, even this morning. I'd texted him and he hadn't replied.

"Well, you said you both patched things up!" He stated exasperatedly. "Call him as a backup, kid. I just don't have a good feeling about this mission of yours."

That much was obvious since Jon never really seemed this...perturbed by any of my missions. He'd always tell me to be careful and that was it. He never asked me to back off.

Not until now. And that alone was enough to make my head swarm with various scenarios. None of them ended in a good way.

"Okay." I nodded and held my phone in between my ear and my shoulder as I tapped on the tiny band of notifications on my leather sleeve. "I will. I promise. I have to go now, Jon."

He hung up with as much reluctance as he could've mustered up at that moment and I found myself sending a quick text to Jamie.

Me: hey. I'm at the Prairie Mansion. The exhibit I texted you about? Will you come?

And when I'd sent it, I realised that maybe I should've made it sound a bit urgent and not like I was asking Jamie out on a date.

Me: what I mean is, I've found a lead here. I'm following the lead. It may get a bit rough here and I just want a bit of a backup. If that's all right with you?

Still wasn't as satisfying, but I sent it anyway. Part of me was aware that he wouldn't even see it, like the texts I'd sent him earlier. And the other part of me was kind of embarrassed because was I literally rambling on a text message when I was supposed to be going after two hooded criminals?

Sighing, I pocketed my phone and ran up the stairs, only stopping at the grand hallway on the third floor. It was all empty and quiet, save for my rushed breathing and the sound of my own footsteps. Or that's what I thought until I slammed into--

"Holy guacamole!" Was what Penny said.

"Shit." Is what I said.

I stumbled backwards and gripped the stairwell and I watched as Penny's eyes rounded in shock.

There was a reason, I told myself, that I didn't like confronting people I knew when in gear. Especially Penny.

"Cinder Girl." I backed a little further and was glad when she didn't move, looking strikingly pale with surprise. "This can't be. What...are you doing here?"

I blinked, trying not to panic, and nudged my head towards the stairs.

Penny's eyes rounded even further, and since her fiery red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her eyes seemed to take up most of her face.

"Are you after someone?" She was still speaking slowly, and a bit loudly, as if her brain couldn't quite keep up with what was happening around her. I nodded hastily. "A bad guy? Is it Ice Phantom?"

"No," I whispered.

"Oh." She said, her face colouring, and then frowned. "Are you looking for someone in particular? Maybe I can help--"

"No!" I shook my head, gritting my teeth. Getting Penny involved in all this was the last thing I wanted. I lowered my voice and added, "Rogues. I have to catch them. You should leave, please."

She stared at me, still wide-eyed, and didn't move until we both heard loud, heavy thuds from upstairs. From the rooftop, I guessed. Thuds that could've been bullet shots, and they sounded close.

"Penny." I blurted out, loud and pleading. "Go! Get out of here."

She blinked, lips parting in surprise. "What..."

"It's not safe here." I pleaded. "Please."

I didn't want her here. I didn't want her anywhere near those ski-masked people. Because if she got hurt, if she were to get injured just like Jon had gotten, I didn't know how I would take it. She needed to get somewhere safe. And this place wasn't safe, not until I got those hooded men out.

Penny must've heard something in my voice, something desperate and urgent, since she started backing off, nodding hastily and moving towards the stairs that led down.

"Go," I said one last time, saw her frown and watched her leave. I didn't stay there any longer to get confronted by someone else. Not when I had a bigger task to accomplish.

Sparing her retreating figure one last glance, I turned around and ran upstairs.

I tried not to think over the fact that Penny may or may not have recognised me. Because this had been new. She'd only ever seen Cinder Girl at a distance. A large distance. I'd never, in all these years, ever had to talk to her like this. And I'd said her name. Wasn't that already a big fucking clue?

"Fuck." I hissed and barged past the stiff metal door that led me to the rooftop.

Another gunshot resounded in the quiet darkness and I came to an abrupt halt near a stack of dirty old crates--ones that seemed untouched for centuries.

Almost instantly, I heard voices from around the corner. Hushed, hurried voices.

"Get it out before she comes up here!" A gruff woman's voice hissed.

I pressed a little closer to the end of the stacked crates and saw the same hooded figures I'd seen downstairs. There were two of them. One was big and heavily muscled, hands swift and busy unlocking one of the crates in front of him. The other one was a woman--the one I'd just heard speaking.

So they knew I was here.

I tapped twice at one end of my mask and heard, rather than saw the notification this time.

Backup requesting, the robotic voice said.

Requesting? I stiffened and cautiously looked around. Weren't they already supposed to be here? Hadn't Orias already sent his men?

What if things got out of hand here? I thought and tried swallowing the dread. What if I needed backup?

The night sky wasn't helping me look around either. Just a half crescent of the moon, mostly hidden by the clouds. The rooftop was huge and old and creepy, and it seemed abandoned.

Fuck, I thought as I pulled out one of the lightweight daggers from where I'd slid it in my left boot, breathing in before I stepped out from the shadows.

They heard me and I didn't have to really announce my presence. The shorter one--the woman--turned around first, while the man remained right where he was, unlocking that crate.

I couldn't quite see her face under the darkness, even if both of their hoods were down. No ski masks, thankfully.

"There you are." She gritted out in a gruff voice--much familiar now that I was nearer. "Cinder Girl."

I knew her. She was the woman with the scarred face. The one who'd broken into my apartment.

Fuck.

I held the dagger in a tight grip. "Here I am," I said, then frowned a little. "What are you even hoping to find in those crates? They're covered in cobwebs, for fuck's sake."

Something buzzed in my pocket, which must've been my phone, and fell silent the next instant. A text.

I saw the woman stepping forward, hands curling into fists. "Oh, I will love beating the absolute shit out of you."

I slowly pressed the fingers of my free hand behind my back, at the back of my belt, and felt around for another knife--a much tinier one that I'd once stolen from a local thug--making sure I still had it.

I kept my eyes on the woman, who wasn't lunging for me, but rather covering the muscled dude as he finally managed to pull open the crate, snatching a tiny pouch out of it as soon as his hands found it.

That must be what they were here for.

The man turned around as well, stuffing the pouch in his jacket pocket, and I recognized him a moment too late. Maybe because he wasn't wearing a ski mask, I didn't realise that he also happened to be the first-ever ski-masked person I'd encountered. He was the man from that fire. The building that had been set on fire.

"I can't let you leave." I stepped in their way, towards their only exit, rolling my shoulders to loosen the tension. "You know I can't. Not until you hand over that pouch."

The man swore angrily. "Good thing we aren't only here for the pouch then."

I should've pondered a bit over his words, but I didn't, at least not right then. Not when my heart was already starting to race with the adrenaline rush. Not when the woman rushed at me first, with a speed so brilliant that I might've been knocked out if not for the years and years of training the Agency had forced on me.

Dodging her, I waited for her to turn around before slamming my elbow into her gut. "I don't," I heaved, "understand how you escaped prison in the first place!"

I wasn't standing at the edge but I could definitely make out a decent crowd bustling down below from the corner of my eye. The townspeople who'd come for the exhibits. They were the ones who had no idea what was going on up here. And I hoped it remained that way. I could fight, yes, but I didn't think I could fight two heavily armed men and get the people out of here at the same time.

I got slammed into the nearest stack of crates, the dagger slipping out of my grasp, and they fell behind me, resulting in an even louder series of thuds.

I groaned, grabbing one end of a crate and hauling myself up. "Look," I said, looking up at both of them as they rounded me. "I don't want to fight. I really don't. Just tell me what's in that pouch and I'll--"

A loud gunshot rang and I winced. The man let down the gun in his hand and glared at me. A menacing, deadly glare.

"You killed our brother."

Brother. Oh.

"I-I..." I stammered, alarmed, my hand slowly patting the back of my belt and pulling out the small knife. I didn't know where my other dagger was. "It wasn't supposed to..." And I couldn't, I didn't know what to say, how to say it. I hadn't meant to kill that boy. But I had. I had.

"But you still did!" The woman yelled and jabbed a finger in the air, directed at me. "I should've killed you the first chance I got!"

I gripped the knife and stared at her, wide-eyed.

Brother. That boy had been their brother. He'd had a family. I'd taken him away from his family just because of what exactly? My orders. My loyalty to the Agency.

My throat felt dry and bitter.

"I didn't mean to kill him." My voice came out soft, pathetic, and so full of regret. I knew it won't mean anything. I knew they won't understand. "I didn't...mean to push him."

The woman laughed, bent down and picked up an object in her hand, holding it up under the moonlight. My dagger.

"You lot never mean to." She hissed. "You kill and it's always a fucking accident."

I clenched my jaw, slowly lifting myself up.

"And you will be sorry, hero, when we're done with the people you love." The man growled, taking a step forward. "You were sorry when I shot two bullets straight through that boss of yours, weren't you? You'll be even more sorry when I'm done with them all!"

Boss, a tiny voice spoke in my head. Jon. It felt like my ears were ringing and the only thing that seemed to ground me to my very spot was my grip on the knife. My knife.

"You tried killing an innocent." My jaw hurt with the way I held it so tight. "What difference does it leave between us?"

"Easy." I saw the scar-faced woman twisting my dagger in the air, fingers skillfully catching it every time. "We didn't kill him. Not yet."

"You fucking--"

They both lunged at me at the very same time, with only seconds to spare as they met me.

I grabbed the first one by the collar, stepped out of the other one's reach, and bashed her head on the wooden crate right beside me. It cracked and broke below her in splinters.

The man charged with a fist, which I couldn't sidestep in time, receiving a blow to the nose. I reeled back with the force and I felt the blood trickling down my chin. Before I could've even tried regaining my composure, there came another blow to my stomach and I convulsed, groaning. I think I heard a few alarming shouts from down below. So far away.

Wiping the blood off my lips with the back of my hand, a noise that sounded much like a growl left my lips, and I lunged, thrusting the small knife into the man's abdomen. It was a satisfying hit, not as much as I wanted, but it did make him bleed and that seemed enough.

"That was for stepping inside Jon's house." I seethed into his face. "Uninvited."

He yelled something in an entirely different language, a series of curses, before shoving me hard into another pair of crates. My elbow hit something hard and my vision swam, but then there was this rush of adrenaline and I'd never felt better.

I got up, staggering and throwing my bloodied knife aside, and saw the woman advancing towards me this time. I met her halfway, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and slamming her against the nearest concrete wall before punching her. And then again and again until my knuckles tingled and my hands went numb.

"And...this," I panted. "Is for thinking...you could hurt him."

I saw the man stumbling towards me, one hand pressed to his bleeding side, and the other gripping the hilt of my dagger as he ran towards me.

I shoved the scar-faced woman in front of me, my arm pressed to her windpipe, holding her in a headlock. "Don't," I warned and the man stopped almost instantly. "Don't even think of taking another step towards me."

He made a noise that was mostly a snarl. A nasty, ferocious snarl. "I will kill you!"

"No, you won't." Came another voice behind him. A much familiar voice.

I blinked, my vision swimming a little, and when I couldn't quite make out the new threat in the darkness, I pulled out another blade from my belt and held it over the woman's throat.

But then the new intruder stepped into a pool of light and I exhaled a shudder in relief. Jamie. It was Jamie.

No, one far corner of my brain yelled. Not Jamie. It was Ice Phantom.

And I was ready, so bloody ready to snap under the thrill that coursed through me.

The woman cussed and squirmed within my grip. I tightened my hold, dragging her back. For one whole second, I didn't even care if I killed right then.

"Ice Phantom." The man gritted out. "I was starting to wonder when you'd show up."

The woman swore again and it was pissing me off. I pressed the knife closer to her jugular vein, hearing her wince and grow stiff. It was so bloody satisfying.

I looked back up at Jamie and he was already staring at me. The dark mask hid his face, all of it, but I could see his eyes. Such a familiar grey. My grey.

"Let her go." It took me a moment to register that he was speaking to me.

"I'm not," I nearly snarled again, "letting her go! They almost killed Jon!" Jon, who hadn't done anything to these people. Nothing at all. No, that wasn't fair. What they'd done to Jon wasn't fair.

Jamie--Ice Phantom--inhaled sharply and pushed his hood off. He seemed tense as he walked towards me.

"Let her go, Dahlia." He spoke and I stiffened because, well, he wasn't supposed to call me that. Not when we had our masks hiding our faces. But then it hit me, and I realised it didn't really matter when everyone on top of this roof already knew who I was anyway.

"Don't kill her." Jamie was still speaking to me. Not loud. Not threatening. He kept his gaze levelled to mine. "You hear me, love? It's all right. I'm here."

Yes. I swallowed and loosened my hold on the woman's neck just a tad bit. "Y-Yeah," I whispered, not letting go of his familiar grey eyes. I was shaking; my hands were trembling. And I had almost nearly killed her. I'd been ready to kill her.

It was that realisation that made me let her go entirely, my resolve weakening as the knife fell from my grasp.

The woman spat out a series of profanities before turning towards me. "You bitch." And I didn't--I don't know why I didn't--try dodging her fist that came my way.

I swayed backwards, falling on my knees, my palms grazing the rough concrete, and just a few inches away from me I saw my knife glinting like a threat under the moonlight. The same knife I'd been holding to that scar-faced woman's throat. Ready to kill her.

I would've killed her if Jamie hadn't stopped me.

I tried blinking back the dark spots from my vision and wiped the blood off my face with my sleeve, looking up when I heard a loud slam.

"You don't touch her." That was Jamie, I realised, shoving the woman against the very same wall I'd been holding her against, a hand fisted into her hair. "You don't lay a finger on her. Not one. I told you I'd break them off. I'd kill you myself if it weren't for the--"

"This wasn't our deal!" She croaked out, trying to struggle. Or I think that's what she said. My head was swimming a bit.

Vitals, I thought. The Agency recorded my vitals and my conversations. Where was Orias's backup?

"Where's the file?" I heard Jamie ask her. He sounded murderous. And he looked like it too, I saw, as he tightened his grip on her throat.

"Let--" the woman tried to pry off his grip,"--me go!"

Jamie, I wanted to say. But I couldn't say his real name in front of these people. I didn't get the choice anyway, not when the burly man behind me gripped my arm and hauled me up to my feet.

I staggered and coughed, head spinning in a way that told me I'd probably gained myself a really bad concussion.

Jade would see to it, I told myself. I'll go back. Orias must be sending his men. I'll be fine.

"Once your job is done." The man snapped, his grip still tight on my arm as he glared at Jamie. "It isn't done here. Don't prove yourself a traitor."

I blinked, frowned, and looked over as Jamie let go of the woman, shoving her aside.

"What's...going on?" I think those were my words.

That, however, shouldn't have been my worst concern right then. No, it shouldn't have been.

"Look down there, hero. Do you see?" The man sneered into my ear, shoving me towards the edge of the rooftop, making me see. And I did. I saw what he wanted me to see. "Everyone, every single person of this town watching you."

And everyone was watching me.

The first thing I actually noticed was that we weren't that high. The mansion was huge but not that tall, and anyone standing down on the finely manicured lawn could've seen everything that was going on up here. If they squinted, they'd be able to see everything.

The second thing I noticed was the crowd that had gathered right there. Men and women, dressed for the exhibits but out here watching the exact opposite. And the reporters too, their cameras aimed at me; bright flashes in the night.

The third thing I noticed was the two people at the very front. One of them was Neo as he seemed to be looking directly at me. His eyes darted from me to the man beside me, but he strangely didn't look ecstatic at what was currently happening. I'd think he'd be happy. But he didn't look happy. And the second one of them was Penny.

Penny staring up at us in horror.

"And now I'll rip this mask off you." He hissed, still close to my ear and only for me to hear. "And everyone," he yelled this time. "Everyone will see the person who killed my brother!"

A sudden wave of dread and nausea hit me out of nowhere. It left me paralysed in fear. I wanted to pull away, I knew I could snatch my arm away, but I didn't. Because this wasn't real. How could it be?

And Jamie, I thought. Jamie. Where was he?

"No," I said, but my voice sounded too far away. "Please."

I'd lose everything.

The bone-deep exhaustion I'd been feeling for days returned at that very same moment--a force so strong that I couldn't fight. My hands throbbed in pain, and the side of my jaw hurt. Yet I couldn't pull away from the hands that touched my mask. Why, I didn't know. I didn't understand.

He tore it away from my face and my throat seized. Hide, my mind screamed at me. Hide. Hide. Hide.

But every eye was on me. How was I to hide?

"Look at her, you fools!" The man yelled down at the people and the crowd and the reporters and their cameras. So many. So many people. "This is the person who killed my brother! Who has taken so much from you all too, just to save that one innocent life! It's always the same with them. All those heroes sent by the Agency! An organisation that's been ruining more and more of our lives! Where is the peace? When will we ever find it back?"

Shouts, cheers, screams of horrors. I could hear it and feel it touching me like flames of scorching fire.

"Look at her and see!" He shouted. "Open your eyes and look at all the ruins around you! Take matters into your own hands before they make you lose someone close to you! Before the Agency brings this godforsaken city to ashes and ruins, just like it has been doing for years!"

He let go of my arm, or I think I snatched it away from him, pushing him away, and stumbling back as I wiped my face. I tried wiping my face. I couldn't see. Was I crying?

"Get her!" I heard a scream, and the most horrifying part was that I didn't know if it belonged to one of the people from the crowd below or if it belonged to one of the ski-masked men.

I looked around for my mask, didn't see it, couldn't find it, and tried looking for a way out.

I only managed to skip past a few crates, placing distance between myself and the scar-faced woman, and I neared the adjacent corner of the roof--one that showed the wide stretch of woods surrounding the back of the mansion--when there was a hand on my arm. I spun and collided into--"Ja...Ice Phantom." I gripped his arms in response, eyes wide and scared. "Ice Phantom."

He winced. I think he winced. I think I heard him wince. Eyes so grey and filled with...remorse.

"Dahlia." He said, and his voice was quiet and urgent. Like he needed me to hear.

I was seconds away from hyperventilating. I couldn't breathe.

"I've got to..." I stumbled over my words and I could hear shouts from down below, the silence long gone. I wanted to press my hands over my ears and shout at everyone to stop. Just stop for a minute. "I have to leave, Jamie. I have to go."

He winced again when I said his name and I felt awful. Bloody awful.

"Don't let her leave!" I heard the scar-faced woman shouting from behind one of the huge crates.

Jamie leaned down until his gaze levelled with mine. "In a minute. I promise, love."

In a minute? I frowned and I tried pulling away but Jamie was gripping my arm this time. And the side of my head hurt.

"What do you mean?" I asked and my voice cracked. God, I was scared.

Jamie didn't say anything in response, just looked over at the tall stack of crates that seemed to hide us from the ski-masked men. Then he shouted, "I've got her! If you don't tell me where the bloody file is, I'll let her go!"

A tiny sound that strangely felt like a sob left my lips. My lips that felt cold and numb, just like every other part of my body.

"What?" I gripped his shoulder, desperate and scared. "Jamie, what are you doing?"

"It's in the hole, you bastard!" I heard another shout--one that belonged to the burly ski-masked man. The one who'd taken off my mask. Oh God, he'd taken off my mask. And he was nearing us. He sounded closer and closer as seconds ticked by.

"I'm sorry." Jamie was saying. And then he was saying it again and again. "I'm sorry, love. I really am."

He was speaking to me. He was talking to me. I could only stare.

My voice came out much colder than I felt right then. "Why are you apologising?"

"Hand her over!"

"Jamie?" I whispered. So quiet, as I stared. My Jamie.

I didn't know what was happening. I didn't have my mask. It felt like I was left bare of everything. And Jamie was acting weird. Why was he apologising?

For one wild moment, this was just a nightmare. One of the many nightmares I'd had in my lifetime. It was a nightmare and it'd go away soon. I'll wake up and none of this would be true.

With one hand gripping my arm, Jamie took a step back from me. I closed the distance between us just as quickly because I didn't...I didn't know what he was doing.

"Dahlia." He gritted out.

"Jamie--"

"It's Ice Phantom." He sounded cold. His eyes were like a pending storm.

I swallowed and whispered. "I thought you liked me." I thought we were past this. I thought I wasn't a fool.

Jamie glanced down and it was only then that I saw the sharp blade in his other hand. Something that hadn't been there before. I froze, staring at it, a long shard of silver glinting so dangerously under the night sky. And it was such an unnatural silver. I saw his grip tightening on the hilt, and it seemed to glow.

"I do." He gripped my arm, pulling me close. Didn't it say something when I let him? "I do love you."

I heard footsteps nearing us. Close. Closer. Just one second or two.

"You love me." I stared at him, and my voice was just a whisper--a whisper so raw and in pain--and it got engulfed by a cold, gentle breeze.

Jamie stared. "I love you."

And then he stabbed me.