Chapter Twelve

Zero hated the smell of nicotine, but he held himself back from complaining. It'd been weeks since he tossed the last boy into his void space, and he wondered if that act was going to bite him in the ass later on.

"Is he going to survive? There's been a lot of failed experiments on your part," Number 9 and a member of the Order spoke, almost boring holes into his head. He knew of her past time; he knew of what she did that he wouldn't touch even with a ten-foot pole.

"Have I ever been wrong? He's going to return. When? I don't know, and I don't think anybody does. Time flows twice the speed there, so that it might take a while. Remember that brat we tossed in a few years back? How she screamed and fought like a raging bull? Wonder what happened to her." Zero smiled, all teeth. His pristine white suit gleamed in the dim lighting of the city's topmost restaurant, Skyfall.

The traffic was regulated so thoroughly in those areas that technology of any kind was banned within proximity of the renowned establishment.

"For your sake, I hope you're right." Number 9 reached out and lovingly grasped his finger, her blood-red nails digging into his skin. Zero didn't grimace; he didn't act like anything was happening.

"I gave you my word; I intend to keep it." He said pleasantly, already used to Number 9's show of masochism. She's always been that way, and he had no idea what her origins were.

"What would you like to order, ma'am?" A waiter walked up to their table, as smooth as butter.

"Whatever he's having," Number 9 replied flippantly, and Zero smiled. She was many things, but she never jeopardized herself. In polite company, she's cordial and even sweet. If Zero didn't know about her guilty pleasures, he would have been taken in by the show she was putting on.

"I'll have your best wine, thanks." Zero said, sending the waiter a smile. Number 9 was staring daggers at him, but he didn't care. Sometimes, he pushed her buttons whenever he knew he could get away with it.

As soon as the waiter left, her stomach growled a little bit too loudly. She chuckled uneasily to cover it up.

"I will kill you," she said through gritted teeth, her hand in front of him, mimicking a squeezing gesture.

"You've tried one too many times. Let it be known that you've failed just as often, and we wouldn't want to alert the people here to our peculiar relationship now, would we?" The venom in his voice was evident to just Number 9, and that's how he wanted it.

"When we leave here, we're going to have a discussion. You'd like that, yes?" The threat was clear, and for the first time that night, Zero felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. Whenever Number 9 was pushed too far… disasters happen.

"Now, now, why don't we sit and talk like good little children?" Zero heard a voice from behind him and swallowed the words that were about to escape from his lips. It was the Don, the one he couldn't cross even in his sleep.

"Don't coddle him, Alistair. You and I both know he has a recalcitrance that must be properly weeded. And somehow, you've never let me do it," Number 9 sounded petulant, and Alistair just patted her head, not unkindly.

"Now, now, we can't let him go, can we? He has his uses. And that big brain of his, we can't just let it waste away. It'd be a terrible mistake." Zero wondered if they'd ever seen him as a person or just the things he was made to do for them.

He was not numbered; he was the wild card. Zero, that's what he was called. His real name was lost in the wind. He couldn't remember; he'd been Zero ever since they razed his town to the ground with their mages and stole him right under his parents' noses.

It wasn't a good experience.

Alistair was a big man; he was big even the first time Zero met him. He had big, beefy arms and scars all over. He looked like a wild beast on the prowl, and even though it's been years since that day, Zero couldn't forget the fear that lodged in his throat and refused to leave, the fear that turned his legs to jelly and his insides to mush.

"He's such a poor little thing," Number 9 reached out to Zero, caressing his face while Alistair watched indulgently. Zero still didn't understand the kind of relationship the two had or why they seemed to be so tightly knit together. But since they were technically both psychos, he couldn't rule out the fact that their closeness stemmed from their bizarre tastes.

"Yes, a poor thing who doesn't know his place. I'll get the waiter to give you the desired food, and it's on me. Don't bother about paying," this time, Alistair was staring pointedly at Zero, and he knew there'd be hell to pay once they were alone.

He stopped slouching and sat upright. If he was going to be punished, he'd instead not look pathetic before it happened.

"What do our researchers say? Has there been any change?" Number 9 asked Alistair, pointedly ignoring Zero. He almost heaved a sigh of relief, but that would bring attention back to him.

"The boy has made contact with the First." Zero dropped the glass of wine he held, and it shattered. His fingers were shaking uncontrollably.

I wasn't informed of this; I didn't know…

But he knew there was no justification for it; he was as damned as the rest of them.

"What's wrong? You've become as white as a sheet," Number 9 asked, her eyes showing a hint of concern. He didn't buy that, though; he knew that he was only important because of the work he did for them. If not.. he was history.

"I'm fine, sorry about that. I got distracted." The excuse sounded stupid in Zero's ears, but the truth was worse. It was best not to antagonize Alistair anymore.

"Distracted?" Alistair looked at him with thinly veiled contempt, and Zero almost felt himself melding with the chair he sat on and becoming one.

"You can go ahead; you need the rest." Number 9 defused the tension and dismissed him in one breath. Zero badly wanted to know what they were talking about, but he didn't need to know badly enough to put his neck on the line; that would be a stupid move.

"Be careful on your way home." Alistair enunciated each word, and Zero swallowed, nodding his thanks. He was out of there a few seconds later, panting for breath.

This is not the life I wanted.

But there was nothing he could do about it. And also… Number 9 knew everything, even the things Zero wasn't privy to.

The question is, how could he make her talk?

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