𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒔.
Maev Barebone never meant to get entangled with humans and their (seemingly) silly fights, but when her neighbor-turned-friend in Bucharest is arrested for a crime he didn't comm...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
the catalyst
THERE WAS A man standing in front of her. He was broad shouldered and donned a mostly navy blue combat suit, though the shield resting on his arm was a dead giveaway to his identity. Steve Rogers was completely invested in the leather journal he'd gently lifted off the top of the fridge, thumbing through the pages, stopping at the newspaper clipping of his picture, staring at it for a moment longer than the other pages.
As if some sixth sense of his went off, he stilled and slowly turned around to face her. Only, as his lips parted, it wasn't her name that fell from his lips but rather—
Maev shot up, sweat dripping down her face as emotion after emotion slammed through the bond between her and James. She struggled to sort through them as she lurched to her feet, the world spinning around her as the sleeping draught slowly left her body. She clutched at the fabric above her heart, the gray material cool beneath her fingers as she took deep, heaving breaths. She blinked rapidly, her mind slow to grasp onto the emotional hurricane slamming into her.
Anger, fear, frustration.
"James," she breathed out in worry, running across the room to grab her black bag, swinging it onto her back, and then frantically looking for her shoes. Slamming her feet into the combat and boots and lacing them up with shaky fingers, a sudden calmness overcame her as she understood what he was trying to do.
He never felt emotions that strong, so for him to be hurdling them at her meant that he was doing it on purpose. He was warning her of something, but of what?
The floor rocked beneath her feet and Maev grabbed the edge of her counter, a loud crash echoing in her ears. She cursed, a long string of words that were sure to curdle milk, and she yanked her blinds open, peering out to the street below.
Dozens of black ops men swarmed the building, police cars and SUVs alike crowding the building entrance. Gunshots rang out, much closer than she'd like them to be, and Maev nearly fainted as she witnessed James launch himself out of a window below and roll onto a rooftop across the street.
Maev scrambled to collect herself knowing she didn't have a lot of time. She needed to act, now. Pricking her finger on her sharp tooth, Maev spread blood on a thin coin usually hidden on a cord beneath her shirt. Closing her eyes, she pressed back against her wall, and whispered a single word, "Cestovat." The foreign word tasted like copper and wind and darkness as she felt the shadows swallow her whole.
Maev was neither here nor there, she was everywhere and yet nowhere as she folded and twisted and unfurled a million times over and over again, suspended in a nothingness that pressed against every fiber of her being.
