“Sure,” he shrugged.  “Whatever.  I don’t know why you’re arguing with me.  I agree, we should get rid of her.”

Yeah… but how?

“What did you do, back in the old days?” Tattletale asked.

Oh jeez. I have some ideas and they don’t work out well for the victims, even if Regent wasn’t the one to do the deed.

“Kept three people I used regularly, with my sister’s help.  But this is fine.  Look, watch.”

Sister, huh. I guess one with a similar power? Or maybe one that kept the victims from doing stuff while Regent was asleep.

Also, did he cycle through these people according to need, or does this mean he can control multiple people at the same time? He also said “anyone I’m controlling”, which is sort of ambiguous but could include a plural.

Shadow Stalker stood, lowering her hands and arms from around her head, and walked over to the door.  She faced Regent.

“I’m letting you go,” he spoke.

“That’s my third wish.”

So, uh, does that release her? Probably not a good idea to release her right here.

I guess it makes more sense that he’d tell her that so that the real Shadow Stalker will know that when he does lift the control. Before that, though, he should make her walk far away.

“We could keep her,” Imp spoke.

“We kept Amethyst.”

Regent shook his head, “Nope.  There are drawbacks to this, and one of them is that I lose control of anyone I’m controlling while I sleep.

Called it!

Better to get rid of her on my terms than have her trying to shoot me in the throat while I take a nap.”

The electrical cage idea has its problems too.

“And it’s kind of fucked up,” I spoke.

“I thought you were all-in,” Regent said.

Oh yeah, someone mentioned Taylor being uncomfortable with what Regent was doing as one of the pieces of evidence for him being the one controlling Shadow Stalker – back then, I thought she was just referring to the torture, not the intended result of it.

“I am.  But that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot,” I retorted.  “This kind of mind control-”

“Body control,” Regent interrupted, his tone bored, “Her mind still belongs to her.”

Which only makes it more fucked up, given the “I have a mouth and I still can’t fucking scream” aspect of it.

“Semantics.  This kind of mind control is pretty high up there on the scale of fucked upness.  People are going to respond to that.  It might be the nudge they need to start responding to us with lethal force.

Eesh, I suppose so. That’s not something we want.

Think of how different tonight would have played out if Dragon and Miss Militia hadn’t held back.”

Dragon would’ve been able to pulverize them all with a few shots of the bigger stuff.

She looked away, down at the ground, scowling.

“Take it or leave it.”

I think Rachel on one level wants to take it, but on another, more conscious level wants to say “fuck your deals”.

She decided to leave it, apparently.  Bitch stomped away, slamming the door the moment Bentley passed through it, leaving the rest of us standing there in the rubbish-strewn apartment building.

Close enough. Kinda hard to say “fuck your deals” when your jaw is barely functional.

Grue sighed audibly and looked over our group, “We’d better go.  We should decide what we’re going to do with Shadow Stalker, now.”

Ah, yeah. Sure.

I stood, removing the baton from her mouth and stepping away, to give her room to stand.  Leaning against the wall, I pressed the button and collapsed the baton into the handle.  I stared at her.

What is Bitch going to say now?

What does anyone say after something like that?

Is she just going to stay silent, perhaps, defeated?

Working her jaw, she stood and glared at me.  She either didn’t have a response for me, or she did and her jaw hurt too much for her to try giving it.  None of the others were jumping into the middle of this.

It seems they all recognize that they really don’t want to get between these two right now. That feeling would probably be tripled if they’d heard what Skitter just said to Bitch.

In the face of the silence, I offered one final comment, “I think I’ve already covered what happens if you want to continue this vendetta.  Now I’m going to offer you a deal.  Number three, I think, and my deals with you are usually pretty fair, if I may say so myself.”

Oh boy.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I fucked up, you fucked up, whatever.  Insult for insult, blow for blow, I’d like to think we’re even.

I suppose they are, for the most part.

So now I’m going to trust you to have my back.  I’m going to put myself in more situations where you have a prime chance at fucking me over, backstabbing me, catching me at my most vulnerable.  Because we can’t function as a team any other way.

“Try harder if you want to fuck me over, also I’m going to make it easier for you by explicitly trusting you.”

“I’m going to treat you like a damned teammate, Rachel, but I’ll go one step further.  You think you can put this behind you and satisfy yourself with what you tried to pull earlier tonight?  Cool.  Because if you’re willing, I’ll come with you to help take care of your dogs.  I’ll bring fucking lunch, if you want it.  That’s the deal I’m offering you, pissed as I am right now.  I’ll be your damn friend.”

Honestly? At this point, I have a hard time seeing that as something Rachel deserves from Taylor. Cod knows Taylor has given her enough chances by now. But then again, it doesn’t seem like Taylor sees it that way either – she’s giving Rachel another chance to be friends not because Rachel deserves that chance, but because she wants to give it to her regardless.

I love how this story handles Taylor’s darker, more vicious moments.

The way they always make sense in context, the way they’re infrequent and sometimes abrupt but never seem to come out of nowhere. The way her personality doesn’t seem to change, just show another side of itself that doesn’t usually come out in full force but has been there in the background ever since 1.1. The way she’s damn scary when it happens.

It’s really good writing of a fantastic character.

You guys were waiting for that one, weren’t you.

“I’m in a position to hurt you now, and I’m pissed enough to do it,” I spoke, my voice low.  “But I won’t.  This vendetta against me ends, now.  You got your shot at me, you fucked it up.  If you’re still mad at me, you fucking better cope, got it!?”

I love this. 😀

She snarled out two muffled words.  I suspected they were rude.

Yeah, probably.

When I spoke next, I bent low and whispered the words for her and her alone, “When you’re tossing and turning and trying to sleep, remembering what I did and said here and getting pissed off about it?  Remember that you were the weak one.  You embarrassed yourself, fucked up, you were the weakling, the wuss who couldn’t even confront me face to face.  And knowing you like I do?  I’m betting it’s going to gnaw at you.  That’s as much a punishment as I could inflict, I think.  That’s on you, not me.

Hooooly shit, Taylor.

Holy shit.

You know who this is reminding me of? Sophia.

“You said it yourself, a while back.  It’s a mistake to underestimate me.  You want another shot at it, it had better be really damn good.  Because if it isn’t, I’m going to survive, I’m going to get away.  And then I might break your jaw for real.  For starters.”

Just… holy shit.

“Bitch,” I pulled on the bar, eliciting more struggling from Bitch, “Just tried to fuck me over in the fight with Dragon.  Shoved me into the foam.” 

Assuming the others believe Skitter, it’s not too far-fetched that Bitch could get kicked off the team for this. I kinda doubt that’s going to happen, though.

Bitch made a muffled noise, then jabbed me in the side, where I’d been grazed by Miss Militia’s shotgun.  It hurt, and in the interest of keeping her from doing it again, I shifted my position so I could force Bitch onto her back against the ground, her head pinned down by my baton.

Ouch.

She could still hit me and jab me, but my shins could take a lot more abuse than her jaw could.  I belatedly realized I’d taken my eyes off Bentley, but he didn’t maul me.  When I looked up, I saw Tattletale had a grip on his chains.

Nice work, Tattle! Good to know there’s some support to be found.

“You’re a coward, Rachel,” I spoke, “You just did the very same thing you hate me for almost doing.  You stabbed me in the back.  You fucked over your own teammate.”

…ah, yes, the hypocrisy of it all is so concrete you can taste it, and then spit it out because hypocrisy doesn’t taste very good.

She mumbled something around the bar.  The look in her eyes made me seriously worry she would kill me when I let her go.

Solution: Stay like this forever.

What do you mean that’s not a solution?

Grue glanced down at Bitch, who was rubbing her chin, opening her jaw wide, as if testing it.

“Does this thing still work…?”

I dropped down to a crouch so quickly that my knee slammed into the ground.  I grabbed the upper end of the baton and pulled it over Bitch’s head, forcing the bar between her teeth, pulling back hard.

Eesh. If Taylor keeps it up like this, it might not.

Grue moved to stop me once more, and I shook my head.  He hesitated, then stopped.

He seems to trust Taylor enough that he figures this is justified in some way and sees that Taylor needs to take out her anger… that or he just doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire for trying to intervene.

Bentley was pacing towards me, snarling at the attack on his owner.  I met his gaze with my own, unflinching, and he didn’t lunge to attack, maybe because he didn’t want to hurt his master in the process.  I didn’t break eye contact with the dog as I spoke with the swarm buzzing in accompaniment, “Regent, this isn’t for Shadow Stalker’s ears.”

I wonder if Taylor ever got around to buying a book on dog psychology after all. Maybe during the two weeks after the Leviathan attack?

Then again, she’s spent enough time with Rachel to start picking up some of these things naturally, on top of online research.

“Got it,” Regent spoke.  Shadow Stalker moved to the bench by the elevators, sat down, and buried her face in her arms, covering her ears.

Regent informed me, “She can’t hear much of anything, now.”

Shadow Stalker, internally: “Fuck, I was curious…”