"I just don't understand why the Reapers would do this to you," Anthony said as he dabbed Lucius' ear with a wet handkerchief. "And hit you over the ear out of all things? I thought those remaining members liked you."

"Well, 'like' is a strong word." Lucius flinched as the fabric, soaked in some strong-smelling liquid, stung his skin. "Telmo and Lorenzo may have had some respect remaining when they threw me out, but they're not above beating me to the ground on sight."

He shrugged, rolling up the sleeve of his shift to pick at a scab on his arm.

"I'd be more insulted if they just ignored me."

Anthony's forehead had a wrinkle, and he grabbed Lucius' arm to keep him from scratching at the healing wounds before saying something Lucius couldn't quite catch.

"What was that?" he asked, squinting in an attempt to read lips, and Anthony's eye twitched.

"It's a little too harsh, don't you think?" His voice was louder this time. "You don't seem to hear very well."

"What?" Lucius asked once again, even louder, and Anthony drew a breath.

"I said you don't seem to—"

"I know, I heard," Lucius replied, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. "But it will get better when it heals... Probably."

Anthony looked at his ear again, but Lucius had a feeling the man had no idea what he was looking for.

"Maybe Tom should take a look at it if you're so worried," he suggested. "He should be up by now, right?"

"It's cleaning day, so he and Richard will be away for a while." Anthony pointed over his shoulder at the door. "They just swept up most of the fur in the morning, then they left."

Lucius hummed.

"How're the cleaners gonna feel about this though?" He pointed down at the sheets in his bed, specifically at the dark red spots of various sizes from the cuts he'd endured the evening before. "They'll think you're beating me."

Anthony gazed up at the ceiling in thought.

"We could... Tell them you've had a terrible case of nosebleeds."

"That's a very big case." Lucius' gaze pointed upwards as well. "And why wouldn't I have gotten something to keep the blood at bay?"

"Because the sheets will be washed today." Anthony shrugged and held up an area of particularly large stains. "Why cover more things in blood if it's already too late for these?"

"Still feels like they'd question the ingenuity of that explanation." Lucius grimaced, and Anthony sighed.

"Perhaps, but at least either explanation is in the area of possibilities to them," he reasoned, to Lucius' discomfort. "Long strands of fur on the furniture though, when we don't even have a dog? That's strange."

"That's disturbing," Lucius pointed out, distressed that people would rather gossip about misplaced fur rather than violence in the home. "Also, I'd get less suspicious cleaners if I were you. Like, servants you could trust."

"That's easier said than done, unless you're looking for another job." Anthony smiled, now investigating Lucius' exposed arm.

"Well, I've given it some thought myself as soon as I get my new house." Lucius hissed as his skin stung again. "Hiring servants that is, since it's not so easy to exist as both Lucius and Lucia in one house."

"Oh? And where have your thoughts taken you?"

"To The Home Of Withered Saints."

Anthony gave him a tired look.

"You're going to look for servants at the madhouse? I'd say I'm shocked, but at this point..."

"The people who are currently placed there are obviously not available, but people who've been there before would be perfect," Lucius argued. "Because if they try to tattle, no one will believe them. It's the town chief's word against theirs."

"That's... Horrible," Anthony said, looking very uncomfortable. "You'd be using their unfortunate role in society against them."

"Yes, I know it sounds bad." Lucius held up his hands, unable to defend that part. "But I can't afford to be found out, and for what it's worth, it's a good job. I'm not particularly messy and I'll pay them well, so as long as they don't try to rat me out I think we'll get along."

Anthony did not look convinced, but he let out a resigned sigh.

"I'd still say it's a risk on your part though."

"I know." The corner of Lucius' mouth twitched. "I suppose there's a chance of one of them befriending me, only to concoct some elaborate scheme to have me murdered by cohorts of theirs, almost getting themselves killed in the process."

"It was an understandable suspicion," Anthony protested, unable to hide a laugh as Lucius eyed him down. "You have to admit it would have made a lot of sense."

"I'd been nothing but nice to you." Lucius shoved Anthony's shoulder, returning the laugh. "Your lack of faith really hurt."

"Alright, I apologise." Anthony still smiled, then he suddenly perked up as footsteps approached the room.

"Oh, the cleaners are here?" Lucius looked towards the door and Anthony sighed.

"I'll tell them to start with another room. They're just not used to someone being here."

Then Damien Hargreaves entered the bedroom, and Lucius' breathing stopped for a moment. He had thought it would be a long time before that man would show his face again after Lucius' threat to expose his actions to Anthony.

"Father," Anthony acknowledged, at least looking equally confused as Lucius, gaze wandering over to Derek who'd entered the room now as well. "Something wrong?"

"I fear so," Damien said dryly as he stared at the two of them. "But that's for another time. Right now, I would like to speak to him."

He nodded in Lucius' direction, and Derek snorted.

"Damn, Cromwell, what happened to your face?"

Lucius swallowed his instincts to tear a man apart, instead just scrunching up his nose with a smile.

"Ran into some old friends of mine. What happened to yours?"

As always, Derek only looked amused by the insult and Lucius pursed his lips in disappointment.

"I don't believe we have much to talk about," he said as he turned his attention to Damien, annoyed that his voice still sounded so very low in his own ears. "I'm just a low-class worm, after all."

"Even so, I've reconsidered your request to join the BBT," Damien said, and Anthony's mouth fell open before Lucius' could.

"You what?" Even Anthony's words came out quicker and Lucius' lip curled in disapproval, but he decided to remain silent for the time being.

"I looked into some of his earlier work and found that he may be of use after all," Damien continued. "Especially since he's already aware of the things we would have wanted to keep secret."

Anthony frowned at this, and Lucius gave Damien an unimpressed scowl. He'd only told Damien about his knowledge of the paintings the night before.

"I'm not so certain about the hostile work environment though," Lucius replied, glancing over at Derek. He was very much not interested in being vampire bait at any given time.

As if summoned by the word in Lucius' head, Ethan suddenly burst into the room, forcing a stray lock of hair from his face as his gaze immediately fell on Damien.

"Father," he said, but received no reply as Damien didn't even spare him a glance. Instead it was Anthony who addressed his brother.

"Ethan, it's cleaning day. I told you to stay out of sight."

"I was, but then I heard him enter, and—" Ethan suddenly noticed Derek, and his intense look shifted into tired bitterness. "Oh. You're here too."

Derek held up a hand to greet him.

"Hey, Eeth."

The corner of Ethan's mouth twitched in return but he turned back to Damien, who still wasn't looking at him.

"Father, now that you're here, you have to talk to me," he insisted, giving Anthony's hand that had appeared on his shoulder a brief glare.

"Ethan..." Anthony said, not so Lucius could hear but it wasn't hard to read that much on his lips.

The younger brother shook his shoulder, but his determination seemed to gradually fade away, face scrunching up as an agonised grimace took over.

"Fine," he said in defeat. "... Damien."

"Oh." Damien finally looked up, but instead of turning to Ethan he just stared straight forward at nothing. "Good morning, Creature."

"Damn," Lucius whispered, finally putting all the pieces together. Ethan not being part of the "family business", Damien claiming to only have one son, and then there was last night's vampire incident.

"You could at least look at me." Ethan shook his head, attempting to take a step forward but Anthony's grip on his shoulder held him back. "How hard could it possibly be?"

"Very." Damien's eyes narrowed. "I find it very hard to see my son's corpse defiled and worn by some blight who delights in tormenting me."

"I know you don't believe that." Ethan's voice grew more agitated by the moment, and even Derek gave him a vague look of sympathy now. "I know you know better. You know it's still me."

A knock interrupted the conversation, and a small lady poked her head through the door.

"Apologies for interrupting, Lord Hargreaves, but me and the others were planning on starting with the bedrooms. If that's inconvenient we could—"

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Damien interrupted her with an eerily pleasant smile. "It's such lovely weather outside too, so we best open up all the curtains and let some sun inside."

At first Lucius was certain Damien or Derek intended to do just that, and he readied himself to stop them until Ethan had escaped, but it seemed like it had been more of a scaring tactic rather than a genuine threat.

It fulfilled its purpose though, as Ethan only drew a deep breath before turning around to storm past the cleaning lady and out of the room.

"Now, Anthony," Damien continued as if nothing had happened. "I'd like a word with Mr. Cromwell alone."

"You can't possibly think I'll leave him alone with the two of you." Anthony managed to glare and look amused at the same time. "Not after what happened last time."

"Oh, I believe we all found the whole situation rather undesirable," Damien agreed, and Derek rolled his eyes.

"I apologised about the chair already."

"It was a very nice chair, Derek," Damien replied, and Lucius couldn't quite process the ridiculousness of that dialogue between those two men.

"And I'll buy you a new, equally nice chair."

"It was part of a dining set." Damien gave his friend a disapproving look. "I'll have to buy a whole new one for it all to match."

"Can you not do this here?" Lucius finally intervened, tension building around his temples to announce the beginning of a headache. "People keep bursting into my room and I'm in my shift and very exposed so if you don't have anything important to say, please leave."

"I do have something important to say, as suggested earlier." Damien's voice turned cold again, eyes turning in Anthony's direction. "But I have a feeling my son won't let me speak for as long as he's here."

"I doubt you could say anything further than wanting him to join that I could approve of even the slightest," Anthony replied, matching his father's glare. "There's no reason for him to join the BBT."

"Aside from him wanting to?" Damien raised an eyebrow, hand gesturing in Lucius' direction. "And I think such a rare case as me reconsidering something should be appreciated."

"Anthony, just..." Lucius gave in to the headache and rubbed his temples. "... Let me talk to him. If anything, to make him leave quicker."

"I really don't think—"

"Derek, could you handle this?" Damien interrupted, and Anthony leaned his head back in resignation.

"Come on," he groaned, and Derek shrugged.

"Might as well not make me."

Anthony gave his father a last, scalding stare before exiting the room, and Lucius wrapped a blanket around himself to cover up more.

"Well then," Lucius said, attention shifting between the two men. "I think we left off at me not being fond of your violent tendencies."

"A very unfortunate misunderstanding," Damien said with a shake of his head, and Derek held his hands up.

"I'd completely misread the situation. I thought he just wanted you dead."

"It was intended as a test though," Damien continued with a light smile on his lips. "And since you're here, I think it qualifies as a pass."

Lucius smiled back, then he leaned forward on the edge of his bed.

"That's fucking bullshit."

Damien blinked, suggesting confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you knew what would happen," Lucius clarified, the minor injuries all over his body strengthening his frustration. "Derek did exactly what you wanted him to because for some reason, you want me gone."

"Sounds like you're one to jump to conclusions." Damien raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Well then, if you had been in my position, how would you have tested the capacity of your employees?"

"I have been in your position." Lucius' grip around his blankets tightened. "And as far as 'testing' went, I looked them up, and when I deemed them capable I allowed them to join. Most of them already had a background in the business, so to speak."

"That's one way of doing it, I suppose." Damien did not look impressed. "But as I came to understand, you don't even know what we do at the BBT. Trading aside."

Lucius scowled.

"I'm putting the pieces together."

"And? What's the conclusion?"

"Well to begin with, you're trying to track down werewolves, and secret groups related to them somehow," Lucius began, trying to conjure any memories of recent events. "You refuse to call Ethan your son, apparently because of what he became after his death, and then there's last night's monster incident."

Lucius locked eyes with Damien.

"I think the BBT are hunting down supernatural people."

"You make it sound so insignificant." Damien shook his head again. "What we're doing is for the sake of all humanity."

"Slaughter?"

"Purging the world of unhallowed creatures."

Glimpses of other memories appeared before Lucius. The sculpture of a four winged swan next to Rarin's tiger in the art gallery, the four wings on the door knocker, the archon Damien addressed once in exasperation, and now the mention of purging the unholy.

"Oh," Lucius uttered through an exhale. "Dinthia, huh?"

"Again with that condescending look." Damien's lip curled. "I'm almost regretting my offer."

"I just..." Lucius thought back to the time he'd almost been 'purged' at the sanctuary when he'd sought help to make the Scourge go away. "... I have some issues with her. Or—I guess I'm not a fan either way, but to be honest I'm mostly uncomfortable with her followers."

"That's a pity," Damien said, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. "I thought you'd be one to understand."

Lucius snorted.

"Why? Do I seem like a slaughter-y type to you?" He immediately acknowledged what a correct assumption it would be, but Damien didn't need to know that.

"Does the name Nicholas Carner mean anything to you?" Damien arched an eyebrow, and Lucius' heart sank.

It certainly meant something. He knew that name very well, and his encounter with the man and his spliced abominations still had a tendency to haunt his dreams.

"Rings a bell," he therefore muttered, reluctantly averting his gaze.

"I imagine." Damien folded his arms. "Since you were found stabbing away at his corpse even after his death."

"It was self-defence." Lucius shrugged. He would not let anyone blame him for that. "He was gonna kill me and turn me into one of his art pieces."

"Indeed," Damien agreed with a slow nod. "I have no intention to accuse you. In fact, when I found out about it I was relieved."

Lucius blinked.

"Pardon?"

"We'd had our eyes on him for some time, and it saved us the effort of taking care of him ourselves," Damien explained, gesturing towards Derek. "And it was a missing piece concerning your ability to handle yourself."

Lucius still sat there like a question mark, and Damien smiled before continuing.

"So far, you've managed to survive both a werewolf and a vampire with minor injuries, but as far as I knew before, you'd never actually killed anything. And with the purpose of our organisation, that wouldn't do."

"But because you found out about Carner, you reconsidered?" Lucius started to get the picture. In a way he supposed he was content that his abilities were recognized and Damien seemed to genuinely acknowledge his potential.

On the other hand, the person the BBT had kept an eye on, the one Lucius had stabbed to death, had only been human.

A human who'd entered a pact with a Scourge.

How had they found out about it? Would they find out about Lucius' pact? What if they already had and that's why Damien had wanted him dead?

"What was up with Carner, then?" he therefore asked, brow furrowing. "He was just a human, right? A fucked up one, but not really someone I'd expect supernatural hunters to target."

"He'd dabbled with unholy elements as well," was Damien's reply, and Lucius refused to ease his frown. "Enough so that we had decided to put a stop to it."

"Vague," Lucius noted, but moved on before he'd accidentally reveal too much about his and Carner's similarities. "I still have some questions though."

"Of course." Damien smiled again, and Lucius found it hard to not be fooled.

"Why are you exempt from this?" Lucius gestured back at Damien. "You and Anthony. You've been involved in some otherworldly stuff as well, you can't even die or age for fuck's sake, but you're still some kind of pure bastards?"

"Otherworldly is not the same as unholy." Damien's voice went back to its cold tone. "It was a necessary procedure and sacrifice, to ensure our work will be continued until we're rid of all of them."

Lucius blinked.

"All of them? How are you gonna manage that? There are apparently a whole bunch of them out there."

"Well, we do have the time." The coldness in Damien's eyes remained unsettling, and even Lucius had to wince at the implied bloodthirst.

The werewolf part of it all didn't make sense to Lucius though. Were werewolves unholy? He was pretty certain Tom had told him they were born like that. Just another species in the world like everyone else. Still, if the BBT believed that they were, did that mean Richard was in danger? Why would Anthony keep his friend so close if he knew what Damien's goals were?

... What Anthony's goals are?

How could Anthony share those views? He was friends with a werewolf, and brother with a vampire whose presence he seemed to enjoy well enough.

He supposed there was one way to find out. If anything, he'd have a reason to be closer to Anthony.

"Say I'd join," he said, just making sure he'd actually be able to. "How often am I expected to be of service?"

"When we need you." Damien shrugged. "I will alert you when that time comes."

"Like... Come to Anthony's place?" Lucius was not thrilled at the idea of having Damien and Derek running about there given the recent information about werewolf-hatred.

Damien's mouth twitched, but he smiled again.

"I'd be happy to find you your own living quarters closer to the manor."

"That's alright," Lucius replied decisively. "You could just send an errand boy or servant to get me."

The two stared each other down for a moment, but Damien finally sighed.

"Very well, if it suits you."

"It does." Lucius' smile was victorious. "Looking forward to working with you. Now, I trust you know your way out of here?"

Damien looked an appropriate amount of offended, while Derek shrugged and seemed to think such treatment was only fair.

"I would like to get dressed too," Lucius pointed out. "And wash some blood away, seeing how harshly my former gang members roughed me up last night."

If Damien appreciated the joke he didn't show it, but he did as Lucius suggested and turned around to walk through the door. Derek followed his example, though was polite enough to raise a hand to signal a goodbye before leaving.

Lucius breathed out. He realised he hadn't actually agreed to join, but assumed it was interpreted as such, which forced him to acknowledge the upcoming issues.

Even though he dreaded explaining the situation to Anthony most of all, there was the issue of making things work with his schedule as a town chief. The costume changes would have to be so rapid that he could join a theatre group.

Still, these situations were the very reason he was juggling double identities after all, and wasn't he already fighting supernatural monsters on the side of his daytime job?

He'd figure it out somehow.

***

Lucius eyed the man in front of him, his temper having taken a drastic turn for the worse and he had to summon all of his willpower not to glare.

"Mr. Whitbrow... Miss Duval... I didn't think I would see you again so soon," he said as sugary as his Lucia-voice could manage. "I do hope you're getting along."

"I'd think someone as clever as you could figure out that's not the case," Miss Duval said, crossing her arms and Lucius pursed his lips at the snide remark.

In a way, he supposed he could appreciate the loud nature of their argument as it helped him hear better.

"What seems to be the matter?" he asked, trying out a slower, smoother voice. He wasn't about to blow Lucia's identity just to speak the language of The Entrails.

"He's just making a fuss about my apartment again." Miss Duval pointed at the man, almost poking his eye. "I just want him to mind his own business but apparently that's impossible."

"It's bad enough that your existence itself is scaring away my customers," Whitbrow retaliated, slapping away the woman's arm. "But then you had to fill your apartment to the brim with those whores and the filth that buy them!"

Lucius gawked.

"Mr. Whitbrow!"

"Well I'm not wrong," the man continued, and Miss Duval placed her hands on her hips.

"What I do with my place is my business, isn't it? You don't hear me complaining about the constant stench of rotten fish."

"I haven't sold a rotten fish in my life!"

"Now, now, let's calm ourselves, shall we?" Lucius' headache from earlier was returning, and he was in no mood to play nice for much longer. "Miss Duval, while your residence is indeed your legal property, I have to express my concerns regarding running that kind of business there. Your children for example. Where are they in the midst of all this?"

Miss Duval huffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"Asleep in their room of course."

Lucius was far from convinced that would conceal the kind of business Whitbrow and Duval were referring to, but he would have to worry about that at a later point.

"While I understand your unfortunate feelings about each other, I'm afraid this is very much out of my hands," he explained, relieved that much was true. "I was involved earlier because it concerned the safety of the people involved in that fight and because of the property issues, but your current disagreement is simply something you will have to work out yourselves. If I could, I would help everyone in town with their neighbour-quarrels, but that would not work out in the end, would it?"

Both his visitors opened their mouths to protest somehow, but instead it was Bahman who got to speak instead as he rushed into the room.

"Apologies," he said to the group before focusing specifically on Lucius. "Lady Cromwell, it's Lord Hargreaves."

Lucius cursed on the inside.

"He's here?" he asked, and Bahman nodded. "... The older one?"

Another nod, and Lucius pinched his lips together.

"Well, I suppose I can't—"

"I would advise you not to," Damien then said as he entered the room, refusing to wait or knock as usual. Bahman only sent Lucius an apologetic grimace before backing away from the situation, and the latter gritted his teeth.

A mirror would have been nice before the visit. Even though Lucius had gone through the trouble of applying enough makeup to cover any bruise visible, chances were it could have worn off even if just a little.

He still smiled though, trying to suppress what Lucius knew about the man and instead address him like Lucia would.

Damien gave the quarrelling duo a look of disapproval.

"If you—" he began, but the two had already begun their stride out of the room.

"Of course, Lord Hargreaves, I really—" Mr. Whitbrow said right before Damien closed the door.

Lucius sucked in a breath, holding on to his smile but adding a puzzled wrinkle to his brow.

"Lord Hargreaves, what a pleasant surprise." He lowered his voice to what felt like his usual volume. "Here to deliver more criticism?"

"Not quite," Damien replied, thankfully in his more demanding, authoritative voice seemingly reserved for people like Lucia and Bahman. "It does concern your position however, and my concerns regarding the BBT's nowadays restricted influence in South Kerilia."

Lucius fought the urge to scoff.

This whole thing again? He sure is a sore loser, this one.

"Your organisation is indeed admirable, and much appreciated not only by me but the people of South Kerilia as well," Lucius said, summoning a pleasant tone to his voice. "I would hate for it to become less successful, but I have already expressed my worries around the not so legal goods, and while I understand there were many perks to the town chief's title in these cases, I think a little less power might be healthy for you."

Damien actually looked surprised by this.

"Healthy?"

"Indeed. A new perspective closer to the other companies and people you work with." Lucius' smirk proved hard to hide. "A challenge to make your organisation work without the position I currently hold, if you will."

Damien laughed at this, which Lucius found both reassuring and disturbing. Reassuring because he'd never laughed like that before and it humanised him, disturbing because he'd never laughed like that before, so what the Waste was about to happen afterwards?

"You are rather amusing, despite everything," Damien then said, and Lucius did nothing but smile through the horrid insult. "I suppose that could make this a little less insufferable."

Lucius frowned at that, cautiously choosing to bite.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I came here because I have an offer for you," Damien continued, and Lucius already knew he wouldn't like it. "To let us both have what we want."

Lucius licked his lips, waiting for him to continue, but was already preparing to defend his position. He would not be stepping down no matter what, or Damien would have a Scourge to answer to.

Probably.

"As things stand, you have no intention to step away from your position, despite your struggles to manage it." Damien gestured towards the door, and Lucius assumed he was referring to Whitbrow and Duval. "And I would still find a much larger profit should I regain some of the power your position holds, while also possessing the knowledge of how to deal with the disgruntled crowd."

"If I don't remember wrong, you have already promised me a similar arrangement." Lucius tilted his head. "That you would speak to the crowds, as long as I don't tell anyone about the trade."

"And I have done so, yet, it doesn't seem to be working, does it?" Damien glanced over his shoulder. "Not when they have you alone."

"What use would it serve me, then?" Lucius arched an eyebrow, trying to mask his scepticism with an unassuming voice. "It is, first of all, the same offer as before, so it should already apply. Furthermore, since it apparently has no effect to begin with, then I would receive no profit from this 'offer', would I?"

"You would if you had someone nearby who could handle the people efficiently, without even having to talk to them yourself." Damien placed a hand against his chest. "Someone who doesn't even have to speak for them to listen."

Lucius held back a grimace.

"So, what?" He let a less polite tone slip out. "Some kind of collaboration?"

"Precisely." Damien looked pleased at Lucius' conclusion. "Let me manage the BBT's trade with your authorization, and the social expectations of your position will be as good as gone."

Lucius had to be intrigued. He really hated dealing with those toe-sucking bastards, but was he ready to give power like that back to Damien though?

"It is a tempting offer," he admitted, but still wished to tread with caution and not accidentally agree to anything. "But would people not find it odd if I allow you to make decisions in my name?"

Damien shook his head.

"Not at all."

"How do you know that, if you don't mind me asking?" Lucius frowned, and Damien smiled in return.

"Because we'd be married."

A moment of complete silence passed as Lucius blinked, refusing to let go of his smile and certain that his ears had betrayed him again.

"... Pardon?"