When Reid approaches at high speed, Hannah's yanked from her stupor, looking miserable while leaning a shoulder and her temple against the cold concrete of the wall. Kane finally catches her gaze. Her brown eyes are wet with unshed tears.

There's a memory of not long ago, when she walked into the shop. She was dangerous. He felt it in his bones. Distracted him from everything until all he could think of was her. At first, he contemplated her intricacies and what she was hiding.

After the pier, he began to contemplate why the bruises she always seems to have on her thighs and knees gave him the urge to have his fingers replace hers, prod and press until she flushes, and then soothe the ache with his tongue. Never has he felt the need to have anyone around other than Reid, but with Hannah, it's different.

Quite quickly, Kane found he didn't want her to return to her life because she filled a hole he didn't know was there. Not because of their kiss; a big part of why Kane's drawn to her is because she's exceeded his expectations.

She's a warrior, tough as hell; the bruises that only work to make her look more beautiful and the nasty scrap on her elbow are a display of that tenacity. Kane's closed off and cold; he's an asshole; he's aware, but Hannah still kissed him, even post-battle. She approached him.

She's amazing, prickly, and bitchy, but also endearingly kind. She doesn't let Reid get away with shit and gives him what he deserves, but also shows a forbearance toward the idiot that others don't. She makes Kane think that if something irreversible happened to him—if he really does die one of these days—Hannah would take care of Reid, and a weight Kane didn't know he'd been holding has been lifted.

Hannah slid into their lives so effortlessly. She doesn't return Kane's smile, but her gaze softens. Her lips quiver as if trying to make words, but they're getting caught in her bobbing throat.

She looks confused at Kane's head gesture, signalling her towards Reid, trying to convey that she needs to leave first with the idiot in tow.

There's no doubt Hannah's on his mind, but there's something important Kane has to deal with first.

Reid is staring at the open doorway while Lucas whispers near his ear. The bags are held tightly in his arms and pressed against his stomach. And whatever is being said has Reid's face turning varying shades of splotchy crimson.

There's a mindset Kane has perfected over many years. Emotion flipped off, and he's merely a machine, and that's what overtakes him when he approaches with soft scruffs against the pavement.

Lucas straightens at Kane's approach. "You look like hell, mate."

"Feel like it," Kane lies. He feels incredible. Hungry. No magic until he sleeps and regains his strength. But his body had a sort of reset, healing the worst of his injuries, and he could run a mile; he's got vigour to spare. "I need to talk to you alone."

There's a flicker of apprehension in Reid's gaze, and the idiot sighs. "I want to sleep. I think we all should sleep and then talk. You agree, Hannah, right?"

Hannah remains silent, even when Reid pouts at her.

There's a spark behind Lucas's gaze that's been perfected by someone who's faced battle many times. When a blade or a bullet could be their end any second, the mind adapts, and the danger sense is conditioned.

Because Lucas is a big bastard, he doesn't shake in his shoes like others would while being the object of Kane's ire, the asshole dares to smirk. "Sure, you want to leave Tweedledee and Tweedledumb alone?"

Reid scowls. "Which one am I?"

"Tweedledumb, obviously." Lucas shifts his head in a way that has Kane battling the urge to not lay him out for daring to stare at Reid through hooded eyes. Like he's staring at some roast—okay, admittedly, Kane might be hungry, and it might be bleeding into his anger.

Hannah snorts, and that's what saves Lucas from earning Kane's fist. Her first reaction that isn't moping since Kane awakened, which is promising.

"Actually," Kane says before Reid can reply and keep the conversation going forever like the idiot's known to do infamously. "Wait for us outside. Right outside. Don't go far; I don't want to have to chase you two down after you get kidnapped or some shit."

Lucas pulls the lapel of his jacket aside, revealing a holstered pistol. He takes the weapon out and offers the gun to Hannah. "They should go somewhere public, safest bet; no one's going to do shit with a bunch of civilians around." He says for Kane's benefit once the weapon has exchanged hands, "Relax, mate."

Shucking the bag from her bag, Hannah unzips and shoves the gun inside. "We'll be fine."

Kane hastily tries to reorient himself; he knows this area of the city well, but he's underground and is a bit disoriented about where exactly in the mall they are. "There's a plaza across the street. Go to the burger place beside that shady grocery store. Wait there."

Reid opens his mouth, but Kane is quick to snarl, "Wait. There."

"Okay," Reid has the audacity to act put upon. "I wasn't going to just wander off. I was going to say, I don't have any money."

Kane blinks rapidly. That's not a sentence he's ever heard come from Reid's mouth.

After Imogen left Gabriel, she had an obsession—bordering on worrying—with having loads of cash everywhere, hidden, and now Reid does the same. She left him a lot of money, a stupid amount, including some very successful investments that were cashed after her death. All in bills. Kane understands, but what he doesn't understand is why his room has wads of cash hidden in the dumbest places: his sock drawer, the back of his nightstand, and between the pages of his spell books.

Kane inhales. "Where's your money?"

Reid nears with a bright smile—he's dreaming if he thinks it'll work to rust Kane's iron resolve. "Stolen."

"Stolen?"

"Robbed."

"I know what stolen means."

"Pilfered. Purloined—"

"Shut up," Kane groans. He'd taken his wallet from his suit jacket and now snatches it from the back pocket of his jeans. He doesn't know how he feels about the jacket pulling taut with the motion; the softer fabric is fortuitously black and not pink, which is a ripe possibility when Lucas is involved, but Kane's a leather guy.

Kane doesn't carry cash because he's living modernly, unlike some people. He pulls his credit card away from Reid's reaching fingers and feels a spark of mischief alight in his chest. Reid must be infecting him.

Frowning, Kane says, "Can you handle this responsibility? I know you've never had a credit card or bank account, so you don't know how important—"

Reid snatches the credit card, moving it out of reach. "So funny, har har."

Hannah finally speaks: "You don't have a bank account?"

"I never needed one," Reid says, lifting his chin. "I don't need one. Kenneth has one." He snorts and laughs bitterly, like they're the ones missing something important. "Why would we need two?"

Lucas frowns. "You own a car."

Kane rubs his mouth. There's no easy way to explain the reasoning behind Reid's lack of independence because Kane might have manipulated the idiot's infamous naivety into making it that way. "It's under my name."

Reid wags his finger Kane's way. "Yes. See. There's too much paperwork. Where would I keep it all?" He rubs at his nose and winces, clearly forgetting it's bruised purple and black. "We just share. Always have."

It's for the best. Tutored and kept imprisoned in Fawnhill for most of his life, Reid's not the pinnacle of responsibility. Kane makes sure that the idiot never misses a payment. Not to mention that Gabriel would, without a doubt, find a way to monitor Reid's accounts. Kane confiscated most of Reid's cash—not hidden, that is, in the guise of needing to put it in the account. It's secure. Kane would never abuse the idiot's finances. It's just out of reach.

But none of that has to be said aloud because it'll probably raise questions that, again, have no easy answer.

Lucas takes a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. "Sounds like one of those married couples where the husband's a controlling tosser. Not implying you're one, mate, just saying."

Lucas places the smoke between his lips, and there's a spark when he meets Kane's steely gaze; he's taking a shot.

The fucker.

Reid laughs nervously. He'd have to be dense to miss the heavy tension in the air. "Don't you and Asha share?"

"Nah," Lucas says, using a shiny flip lighter to burn the end of his bobbing cigarette. "She has a part-timer, believe it or not." He laughs at their collective looks of shock. What does Asha do? Sell coffee? Customer service? Or does she use her powers? The thought is bizarre to contemplate.

Lucas shrugs. "We're separate financially. Roommates."

"Who sleeps together?" Reid asks sweetly.

Lucas blows smoke into the air above their heads. He smirks. "Very good roommates, love."

Breaking the conversation before Kane is forced to be stern, Hannah sighs and strides forward. "Come on." She slips her elbow around Reid's arm, dragging him up the few stone steps. "I'm starving."

Even around the curve that will lead them up some more steps and into the street, Reid's echoing voice wafts, complaining about the need for a bank account and how it's not important, and Hannah's soft assertions can be heard, and then they're gone.

Lucas doesn't move away from the wall. He scrutinizes his cigarette. "Never asked. What do you see when you die?"

"Darkness."

"Fuckin' dismal. That's really it?"

"There's nothing."

Nodding, Lucas flicks his smoke over Kane's head. It was only halfway.

Kane doesn't beat around the bush. He steps closer, within punching distance. They're almost the same height, with Lucas slightly taller. He grounds his stance, so if he has to weather a fist, he'll stay upright. He crosses his arms over his chest. "I know where you work."

Lucas sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He snorts. "You're watching me?"

"Do you like selling televisions?"

"Not particularly. Shit pay."

"Do you like that coffee shop on the corner near your place?"

"It's alright."

"You like it enough to go there at least three times a week; at ten thirty in the morning, sometimes you're late, closer to ten forty-five."

Lucas's gaze gains an edge. "There's a cute counter boy I can't get enough of."

"Oh, yeah?"

Kane tongues the back of his teeth. There's no boy. Lucas goes for the coffee. He hardly talks to anyone and leaves promptly. Kane tracked the man for weeks after Milton died. Milton might have trusted Asha and her bodyguard, but Kane doesn't. He still doesn't.

Lucas smirks. "He's really pretty."

There's a burn in Kane's chest that rises to constrict his throat. Rage that he can hardly keep down because he's existed within the orbit of someone who loves to bother, and he can foresee Lucas is about to spew bullshit.

"Got the blondest hair."

"Lucas," Kane warns.

"Bluest eyes."

Kane knows he's got that menacing glint in his eyes because Lucas's smirk rises and the man leans close, lowering his voice in a mock confession: "He's a real looker. I've been thinking of trying my shot, being sweet, and finding what he likes, but I think he might be a guy who'll appreciate being told. Held down and—"

The sudden forearm pressed against his chest and shoving him bodily against the wall, threatening his airway, strains Lucas's smirk but doesn't rid his face of its stupidity.

"Fuck you," Kane growls. He means it, and if he didn't consider Lucas close to a friend, he'd lay him out. "I warned you to stay away."

"Fuckin' playing protective brother? He doesn't need it; he's a big boy."

Lucas's hands have never left his jacket pockets, and Kane's fairly positive that the man can't fit a weapon within, he must be holding the lighter.

"Let him make his own decisions, mate."

Kane snarls, "I've followed you."

Lucas snorts. "Moonlighting as a wannabe private eye, Kane?"

"I know what you do on the weekends." Kane puts all his strength into keeping Lucas against the wall even though the man doesn't move, but the way Lucas's expression shadows has Kane's instincts heightening. "You're fucked."

"Mary above. You're fucked."

"Not like you," Kane says harshly. He holds Lucas's jacket tighter. "You go to those clubs every weekend. It doesn't matter how they look, does it? Guy or girl, just the same trait: weak. Because you're a big fucker that likes hurting, don't you, Lucas? Get off that shit?"

Lucas looks fucking menacing, his gaze darkening. "You're saying your boy's weak?"

"You know he fucking is."

Kane's shaking with anger. Reid's confession of feeling so needy for touch, even if it hurts, chills Kane like nothing else. Beasts like Lucas would devour that weakness, and Reid would be thankful.

"He's not, but I wouldn't hurt him even if he were," Lucas says evenly.

"You won't ever have the chance."

Silence stretches, and then Lucas says, "I'll stay away, but if he comes to me, you'll lay off. It'd be good for him to hang around someone who's not you."

"Fuck you. He doesn't need anyone else."

Lucas laughs. "The person doesn't matter, does it? No one will ever be good enough. I thought you were jealous, and you are, but that's not all of it; it's even worse; you've got him climbing a pedestal that he can never reach. And every time he fumbles, you're there to shove him, shout at him, and force him to keep climbing. He won't ever reach the top. Accept that and lay off, mate. Let him mess up."

Kane snorts. "You're that mess up?"

"Could be," Lucas says, shrugging. "Despite the fact that you're an arsehole, you've got good intentions. I won't overstep. But if he comes to me, I'm not going to turn him away; I don't care what you threaten."

"I'll threaten your life, you bastard. That enough?"

Lucas shoves away from the wall, and he's strong enough to have Kane stumble backward. "Fuckin' lay off."

Kane backs up, preparing for a fight. "If you touch him—"

"I will. If he asks."

"Lucas, last chance."

"Sorry, mate." Lucas smirks. "Gonna have to hit me."

And that's when the ringing in Kane's ears crescendos.

His punch to Lucas's face is precise, aiming for the bruise near the man's eye and striking it dead-on.

Lucas inhales sharply, his head heeding to the force of the hit, but then the beast of a man returns the blow with split knuckles that crack across Kane's jaw. Lucas wasn't holding the lighter, which was a good thing; he hit like a truck.

Pain erupts, and the taste of blood covers Kane's teeth and tongue. Vision blackening for a precious second. He's exhilarated.

Their igniting fight is admittedly pretty fucking bad. There's a lot of grappling with Kane trying to keep close, grasping Lucas's jacket, and jabbing with his elbow and fists when possible, but he can't give Lucas room to use his beast strength to his advantage. Kane was almost unconscious after taking one of Lucas's punches.

At one point, Kane spits blood at Lucas's face and speckles the front of the man's jacket. They continue their awkward tango of violence, neither trying to kill, only hurt, until they end up on the ground, rolling and snarling.

"Fu—" Lucas bites Kane's fingers, which had come to shove at the bastard's face when he'd opened his mouth.

Kane snatches his hand back with a growl. He's breathing heavily, kneeling, his shin a pinning bar over Lucas's stomach, with a fistful of the asshole's jacket. Kane would throw a punch; he has the advantage, but he's out of breath. Neither of them should be fighting like this while exhausted.

Making no move to try to escape his position on the ground, Lucas's chest heaves, blood sheens his lips, and his face is going to have an even nastier bruise in a couple of hours. He seizes Kane's jacket instinctually or deliberately, keeping Kane's wavering form steady. "He's a vampire. Pure fuckin' vampire. He's not weak."

Lucas doesn't react to Kane's raising fist; his knuckles split and dripping blood. "Come what, mate, a decade? He'll be nothing close to weak. He's not human. Never has been. He can already make vampires shit themselves. Don't coddle him. You'll kill yourself. Like keeping a tiger as a pet."

"Fuck you," Kane breathes. His raised fist shakes.

"I've seen it."

Dropping his fist, Kane spits a wad of blood to stain the concrete next to Lucas's head. "You haven't seen shit."

"Asha. She's seen it. The future," Lucas implores. "You know if she touches you, she can show you—"

"Lies!" Kane's furious. He doesn't want to mess with the future. He doesn't want to know. He's seen what that sort of pressure does to a man. Milton would lock himself in his room for days, shouting and raving. "She can show you whatever the fuck she wants! Lies! Why should I believe you?"

With a snarl, Lucas uses his grip on Kane's jacket to flip their positions. Kane's shoulder strikes the concrete with a loud thud that echoes through the quiet parking lot. He'd fight; he has a fist raised to do so, but the look of pleading in Lucas's dark eyes pacifies Kane entirely.

"I saw it, mate. I'm trying to keep you alive. Reid alive. Fuckin' Hannah alive. You care about them? Well, listen to me, or they're dead."

"Fine, tell me."

"Can't."

Kane's eyes widen. "What the fuck? Tell me!"

"Can't have you changing the future. Some things need to happen. Things that you'll muck up. Just know that I'm on your side. This timeline I'm trying to keep you tossers from fuckin' will save a lot of people."

"No fucking way," Kane says, enraged. "I need to let you creep on Reid? Not fucking happening. That's the most bullshit—"

Lucas groans. "No, you arsehole." He rubs at his bruised forehead, smearing blood. "But I've seen...it doesn't matter. That doesn't have anything to do with what I'm referring to." He sits back, giving Kane space. "This is life or death, Kane. Not everything is about Reid. Get him out of your head for a minute."

Kane rises to sit, glaring. "You won't tell me what I'm supposed to do. Only that I need to do it."

"Because I don't know," Lucas says, sighing. "I have the footnotes. I know what needs to happen. Crucial things that might need a push to happen here or there." He inhales shakily. "I want to make sure what I saw doesn't come true."

"What did you see?"

Lucas licks at his lips. "It's not... there's a lot of death."

"Lucas. Give me something."

"Fire. Rivers of blood," Lucas says with a haunted expression. "There's a creature."

"A creature?"

"A monster. From the shadows. I thought it was a vampire."

Kane shivers. "Was it or wasn't it a vampire?" Could it be the shadow beast that he'd fought in Limbo?

"I don't know. Not human. All I know is that you kill it."

"Then I fucking kill it," Kane says sternly. "Why are you looking all worried then?"

Lucas smiles sadly.

Kane snorts. "You're not going to tell me?"

"Nah."

"Can you at least tell if that burger is going to be worth this fucking wait?"

"Sorry, mate." Lucas smirks. "Gonna be shit. The worst thing you've ever tasted."

Kane laughs sharply. "Fuck you."

"I'm on your side," Lucas says softly, his smile faltering. "Believe me in that, at least." He rises and outstretches a bloody hand for Kane to grasp.

Kane takes the offered hand in a firm grip, allowing himself to be pulled to stand. "I know. You're a bastard, but I know."

He smacks Lucas's shoulder with a palm, harder than needed, and returns Lucas's careful smile, even though, within, Kane knows there's no fucking way he's going to allow himself to be held by fate.

Fuck that.

He'll act even more vigilant when it comes to Lucas, now confirming the man has his own intentions and pushing them so they reach the future Asha wants. There's no doubt Lucas believes what he's doing is good, but that doesn't necessarily mean it is. History shows that danger time and time again.

After leaving the parking garage and stepping into the quiet, late-evening street, a few people pass on the cracked sidewalk. With the orange spill of a streetlight above illuminating their faces, Kane says, "I'm serious though; stay away from Reid."

Lucas chuckles. "Obsessed, mate."

Kane steps off the curb. "Just making sure you hear loud and clear."

They walk shoulder to shoulder across the slick asphalt street. The curved plaza not far away lights up the night. A 24-hour gym takes up much of the real estate, with giant glass windows and a gigantic flashing lime-green sign.

"You keep bringing him up," Lucas says, smirking. He taps a fingertip against his temple. "Now he's stuck up here, you know. Can't get him out of my head. Those jeans, the cute way he turns all red, dream-worthy."

Kane's horrified. He never thought of dreams. All the perverted things Lucas could be doing to dream Reid have Kane practically foaming at the mouth in outrage.

Lost in his spiralling thoughts, Kane comes close to tripping over the edge of the curb as they step onto the sidewalk. "No dreaming about him either. And, what the fuck, cute? You're disgusting."

Lucas laughs. A genuine belly-filled sound that's catchy enough to make Kane's dark mood lighten a smidge. "Not everyone appreciates the same art, you know? I can appreciate it from afar. Or is that against the rules?"

They reach the corner shop, which is easy to miss if one doesn't know it's there. There's a window with its tweed blinds half-drawn.

Within, Kane catches a glimpse of Hannah sitting at a round table; she's smiling and giggling at whatever Reid's telling her so dramatically that his arms flail about. And Kane's breath catches.

Appreciate. He hates that he understands, but he does; you don't choose who you're drawn towards.

"I need you," Kane blurts, his shoes scruffing as he comes to a stop.

Lucas's eyes twinkle. "Oh, mate, I'm flattered, but you're not my type."

"Shut up. I need you in a fight. There are too many enemies. I feel them closing in. I can't protect them both alone."

That has Lucas's gaze softening. "I know. I told you I'm invested in making sure the future doesn't happen. I'm with you till the end." He shoves Kane's arm, and it's playful, but hell, the bastard is strong, and Kane stumbles. "But Mary above. Stop stressing for one hour, mate."

"Fine." Kane inhales. "One hour."