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ahomeganeyatsu · 5 years

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Ran Off in the Night (Part 8)

The shop was a quaint little place a few blocks from their building. It was located in a busy street but it’s nestled within a corner and blended too well with the other shops. You would hardly even notice it was there. It was the kind of shop you would miss entirely unless you weren’t actively searching for it. The type that only shows up when you’re in need of it.

Lucas remembered coming upon it accidentally. How he stood in the middle of the street, wishing he could find a place he could hide in a bit to calm his nerves. And suddenly he saw it, right there across him. This hole-in-the-wall shop with its obscured glass display, with tiny knick-knacks and hanging plants. The stylistic script advertising it as QS and nothing more.

He felt compelled to approach it. He hadn’t even noticed he was pushing through the door until he was facing a dimly lit interior. The bell was still tinkling behind him, alerting the owner of a potential customer. He didn’t know whether it was an apothecary, a bookstore, an antique shop or all of it at once. There were shelves upon shelves of varying things, all mixed it one place and it should have clashed but it didn’t. The chaos exhibited a certain harmony Lucas wouldn’t have believed possible if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.

It has been months from what had been his first and only visit. (Until now, that is.) He thought that the owner would have redecorated by now, or resorted the shelves. But things look to be the same as the last time he had been here—save for the new additions or lack of some.

“That better not be you Dorian! I don’t care what you say, I’m keeping the grimoire!” a voice boomed from the back of the shop, echoing loudly in the whole room. He noticed how some items quivered in their spots, shifting to tuck themselves further, as if fearing for their lives. Lucas was used to strange things but he will never get used to that.

Claws clicked against the wooden floors and the teen twisted in his spot to find a tiny animal with large ears and a small slightly pointed snout walking towards him. The top of its coat was a soft orange and the rest of it was a cream-colored white. Its red-ruby eyes stared at him intently and like the first time, it unnerved him.

“Hey, Fynn,” he greeted the fennec fox. Fynn gave no response and continued advancing on him. Lucas kept himself still. He let the fox circle him, sniffing around his shoes and pants. He waited patiently until Fynn was satisfied in his scenting. Once he was, the little fox pounced on him without any warning. It didn’t surprise the teen as much. Lucas had been quite ready to catch him. He gave the little fella a scratch behind one of his large ears. For such a tiny thing, Fynn’s purr rivaled that of a car engine.

“Someone definitely missed you.” Lucas looked up from his petting and saw a woman standing at the entrance to the backroom, watching them with a smirk. There was a certain agelessness to her. And no matter what, Lucas would always feel like a child in front of her.

The first time he met Quellen Squall, Lucas had wanted to ask if she was real. At first glance, she looked human. With short ebony hair, sharp cheekbones, straight thin nose, plump lips and the shape of her dark eyes spoke of East Asian descent. She was wearing a bright red coat and pants and a silver mesh shirt, and combat boots. The only make-up she wore was the black eye-liner that curled into a winged-tip. She possessed one of those androgynous faces. She was beautiful and handsome, and Lucas felt himself flush when he realized he was staring.

But then he blinked. And he saw the way some parts of her skin shimmered, like dappled sunlight, and what he thought had been fin-like accessories on her ears were actually part of them. Lucas would have been scared. He would have run out of there. But Quell looked at him with such kind eyes and a soft smile. Lucas had decided to stay.

“So, what brings you to my humble shop? You weren’t pretty forthcoming in your messages.” Quellen’s words nudged him out of his trip down memory lane. Lucas blinked as she took her spot behind the counter. “Also, I can’t believe it took you months to actually come back! Was the tea that bad?”

“No, no, it was alright. Just… stuff happened. And it wasn’t like I was in need of anything.” Lucas shrugged as he walked up to Quell and deposited little Fynn on the counter. The fox was satisfied with the petting and decided he wanted off.

“Not even for the pleasure of our company? You wound us, mon loulou.” She swooned dramatically and Lucas could only watch, expression torn between amusement and confusion.

“Why would you want a mundane hanging out at your shop?” There must have been something in his voice. A catch. An inflection. An emphasis. He didn’t know. But it was there. Q’s whole face had just shifted along with the atmosphere in the shop. She straightened and looked at him. It made Lucas fidget with the hems of his sleeves. He felt like a specimen pinned on a slide, scrutinized under the lens of the microscope.

“I don’t tolerate that kind of talk in my shop, little one. And you’re not exactly one to talk, considering.” She left the statement hanging in the air.

“What does that even mean?” he asked flummoxed. Quell just gave him a look. One that told him he was on his own there, that he should know what Quell was talking about, that he couldn’t be that stupid not to have known. But Lucas really didn’t.

“Your shop isn’t easy to find when I’m actually, you know, looking for it,” he said instead. If Quell wasn’t going to speak more on the matter, he’ll leave it at that.

“Maybe I should reconsider that layer of the wards,” Quell muttered to herself, frowning at something in the air. She waved her hand and a wisp of magenta trailed after it. She nodded, pleased with whatever she had just done and turned to Lucas. “Great, now you can visit anytime. Fynn’s grown rather attached to you. You have no idea how unbearable he was the past month.”

“Uh…what exactly happened?” he titled his head to the side in query.

“I adjusted the wards so you can come and visit whenever. Play with this little monster,” she patted Fynn’s head, whose ears flicked irritably. Lucas wondered if he should warn Quell to be extra careful that night seeing as Fynn positively vibrated with the intent to murder. “Just you though,” Quell continued oblivious to the furry quadruped plotting against her, “so if you have friends you want to tag along, better tell me first. Also, this way it’ll be easier for you to perform your end of the bargain.”

Remembering what he had come here for, Lucas shoved thoughts of Fynn and his revenge aside. He leaned against the counter, ready to transact with the woman. “Okay, I need information.”

Quell looked impressed that he had gone straight to the point. “Information.” She hummed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Her dark eyes regarded Lucas with curiosity, “What information are we talking about?” The woman snapped her fingers and a tray laden with a teapot, two cups and a plate of biscuits appeared between them.

“A name, if you could. Or possibly places I could find him.” A stool had materialized behind him and prodded him to take a seat. He almost swatted it away. Hackles rising from being harassed by furniture. It was persistent and Lucas had no choice but to concede.

Quell smiled over the lip of her cup, breathing in Jasmine. “Well, who are you looking for mon loulou? Any particular specie? Is it a child of the Night? The Moon? Of Lilith? A Fey even?”

Lucas rolled his eyes. The terms Quell had thrown at him rang vaguely familiar. You’re certainly pretty enough to be one of the fey. He willed the blush not to show on his face. He gulped and forced himself back into the present.

“You know half of what you said doesn’t make sense to me, right? Like at all,” he raised his brow and his hand began to gesticulate wildly. “I barely understand what this other world is.”

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

“It’s not like I want to learn more about your world,” Lucas groused, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew he was acting like a petulant child. But Quell was telling him in not so many ways that not knowing how things work in her world was Lucas’ fault. Which, okay, was true but he was putting in efforts not to become a part of it. “I’d rather be as clueless as possible to avoid trouble and you’re not all the sharing-information-for-free type.”

“Point taken. Alright, well, give me a description of this person then.” She motioned for Lucas to go on.

He almost blurted out the stupidest thing but managed to stop himself. The descriptors drop dead gorgeous with the prettiest eyes and infuriating smirk weren’t going to help him. Quell needed identifying marks, things that made whoever Lucas was searching for distinct. He reached for the cup of tea Fynn was nosing towards him as he thought of where to begin. One that wouldn’t make him sound like he was interested in the guy in that way. (He was though. Like a teeny-tiny bit.)

He took a sip of his tea, mulling over his words. It was best to go with the easiest then. He lifted his eyes to meet Quell’s, “He wears a lot of black,” he started off. “I thought it was a fashion statement at first, but it seemed like it’s because it blended with the shadows. He carries this weird, glowy blade and his skin has these strange tattoo-like marks.”

He also kind of flirted with me, and gave me my favorite snack before disappearing on me, but this is after he stalked me for the whole week.

I also have his hoodie.

Quell choked on her tea.

If it had been someone else, Lucas would be laughing in stitches right now. But this was Quell. He’d rather not piss her off. So, the teen said, “Shit, Quellen, what the hell. Are you alright?” He coughed to dislodge the mirth trapped in his throat. The brunette scrambled from his seat to help her, but she waved him off.

Lucas wondered if she happened to catch his thoughts. He hoped to whoever she hadn’t.

Fynn was unbothered by all of this. He just sat on the counter top, chewing on a biscuit, minding his own business, and just soaking it in. Quell snapped her fingers and a box of Kleenex appeared. Lucas grabbed several sheets and handed them to her. She accepted them generously. She was still coughing as she wiped the dribble of tea on her chin and the corner of her lips. Then dabbed at the tears on her eyes.

Recovered from her ordeal, she turned to Lucas with wide eyes. Or as wide as they could go anyway. Her face spoke volumes of incredulity. Wrestling with the knowledge of what Lucas was asking of her. Trying to come to terms that the boy was looking for this particular person. “Lucas,” and hearing his name out of Quell for the first time that day, it clued in the teen that this had just gotten serious. “Lucas, why are you looking for a Shadowhunter?”

A shadow-what now?

Lucas stared at Quell, waiting for her to say something more. When she didn’t and only continued to look back at him, the teen tugged at the collar of his shirt awkwardly. He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek. “I don’t want to sound stupid,” too late, he already did. “But what the fuck is a Shadowhunter? Do they like, literally hunt shadows?”

Let it be said that some days he, Lucas Lallemant, may not be the brightest crayon in the box.

The way Quell’s brows slowly rose had the boy immediately protesting, “It’s a legitimate question! Don’t look at me like that!”

But the words have passed his mouth and his image was forever tarnished in the eyes of Quellen Squall. The prospect of smacking him right upside the head was looking quite tempting to her. “No,” she finally answered. “The job description doesn’t quite live up to the job title.” The blush he had been willing away earlier was winning the battle. He was glad that Quell wasn’t mentioning his ill-timed impersonation of a lobster.

“Shadowhunters. In simpler terms, they’re like the police of the Downworld. They keep things in order, as much as they can anyway. Usually they step in when mundanes get involved, when they get hurt. They used to stay out of other Downworlders’ business, but with the new Accords, a council’s been set up to hear cases when factions are disputing. It’s messy and you don’t need to know this.” She had probably seen the lost look overtaking Lucas’ face and took pity on him. “The point is,” she sighed, rubbing her temple gently, “Shadowhunters hunt demons. They protect mundanes and the Downworld in general. Keep the mundanes as oblivious about the existence of the Downworld.” Her eyes met his once again. “So, why are you looking for one?”

Lucas knew there was no point in lying to her. He may have been well-versed in the art of subterfuge, but Quell could probably whiff out any lie he would give. She won’t push him when he omits any information. She was simply like that. But it didn’t mean she would simply drop it. In the short time he had known her, that much had been certain to Lucas.

He drummed his fingers on the counter top. A 1-4-2-3 pattern he did as a child when he started playing the piano. He glanced at Quell. She was waiting for his answer. He wasn’t sure how much he could tell her. Quell knew something about him that he didn’t. Her earlier statement about him made that abundantly clear. He didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell him. But he guessed the universe didn’t function like that. It didn’t just provide answers that easily. If that had been the case, there would be less trouble in the world. Lucas also understood that in this world—this Downworld that Quell spoke of—you couldn’t trust people fully. Quell made no indication that Lucas could trust her wholly but she didn’t give him any reasons to distrust her either. He still has no idea why Quell was helping him in the first place. The woman did things for a price. And getting off with simple manual labor like last time, it sounded too good to be true.

She simply can’t be fond of him to be granting him these favors. Still, Lucas would take what he could get. She may be hiding something, but the day he met her she had been nothing but helpful to him.

“The guy’s been following me the past week,” he told her at last. “He said not to find him since he’ll come find me. Except he hasn’t exactly shown up again? He just—” he made a poof sound as his hand demonstrated the action, “—so I figured fuck it. I’m gonna go look for him.”

Quell gave him a look that said she was impressed of his initiative, but also spoke of how stupid she found that decision had been. She didn’t remark about it though. Instead, she frowned and asked, “Why was he following you?”

“That’s the thing I wanted to know too.” He scowled as he grabbed a cookie from the plate. He bit into it with ferocity, raining crumbs on the surface of the counter and on himself. “He wasn’t the most talkative about that.”

“Don’t take it out on the cookie, kid,” Quell chided him. With a wave of a hand, the crumbs that littered the counter vanished. “I can’t tell you where the Institute is. It’s like their base of operations,” she explained before Lucas could voice his question. “I’ll get in trouble for divulging that information, even if you do have the Sight. Shadowhunters aren’t quite fond of mundanes and us downworlders.” A rueful smile made its way on her face before she shook her head. She flicked her wrist and between her fingers, a card was pinned.

Quell offered it to him and Lucas took it carefully. It was a nondescript black card. On one surface it was blank, but when he flipped it over, there he found an elegant script written in silver ink. It was Quell’s full name.

“There’s a club called the Sans Jour, show them this and they’ll let you in. It’s a crowd favorite—mundanes, downworlders, even Shadowhunters come there.” She took a cookie for herself and bit into it more sedately than Lucas had. “I can’t be certain if you’ll find him there, but it’s worth a try.” She looked directly into his eyes. There was a fire there and Lucas found himself straightening in response. “I want you to be careful. Most downworlders leave mundanes well enough alone but there are still some who want to play. I would rather you go with someone than do this on your own, except I know you won’t endanger any of your friends. If something happens, burn the card. I’ll come get you.”

“Why not just come with me?” He asked as he studied the card before pocketing it.

“Mon petit chou,” Quell said with exasperated fondness. “I may not be the High Warlock of Paris, but I have other obligations. Even if I wanted to, I simply couldn’t.”

He wasn’t sure what that title meant. It sounded important and Quell really did look like an important person. She held herself with confidence and an air of authority. Even if the title didn’t belong to her, Lucas could imagine her owning it. But he did understand what Quell was saying: She was a busy person. He had already taken enough of her time. He also realized that she would charge him extra if she came with him to that club. He can’t afford racking up more favors from her.

“You never did describe what this shadowhunter looked like,” she sipped her tea. This time it smelled like strawberries. When she changed it, Lucas would forever wonder.

“He’s—” he coughed, taking a delicate sip from his own cup. It was still warm. It was also the right temperature that Lucas liked. Magic, his mind whispered. “—tall. Messy hair. Has these really pretty unique eyes.” Nice save Lallemant, smooth, real smooth.

Quell was leveling him with this curious stare. Like she was trying to pick him apart. She might as well have been.

Lucas tried to ignore it. He chose to finish his tea and another cookie. His hand itched to pet something to calm himself. Fynn had taken to napping near the register and Lucas didn’t want to disturb him.

All of a sudden, Quell made a surprised sound and the next thing Lucas knew, she had put down her cup of tea, and was bent over the counter, clutching her stomach as she shook from the force of her own laughter. Lucas just watched her. Worried and a little annoyed because it felt like whatever had her losing it, must have something to do with him. She finally lifted her head and looked at him again. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, laughs tapering off into quiet huffs of amusement.

“You actually have a crush on this guy, huh?”

The heat that climbed up Lucas neck and stole through his cheeks was so severe he worried he might actually be running a fever. “I— I do not!” he denied. It made him sound guiltier and Quell was definitely of the same opinion. The way her eyes were sparkling, she didn’t believe him at all.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, mon loulou,” she sing-songed.

“I really don’t!” His words fell on deaf ears. Quell still chuckled and the blush wasn’t going away either.

Fucking idiot shadowhunter.

#elu shadowhunter au #elu fic #elu chaptered fic #my fic #my written works

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