Chapter 48: Forty-Six

A cigarette found itself between his lips. Paul took a lighter and lit it. He watched the flickering flames from atop his bed, dragged in a puff, and released smoke into the air. He sighed, then turned to the woman laying by his side.

"You're one crazy woman." He took the thing from his lips. "But you're even more wild in bed."

Liz grinned, her naked body hidden by bedsheets as she twinkled her eyes at the man. She licked her lips.

"Don't tell me you were too weak to handle me?"

He found fault with that. Weakness? That wasn't a word in his vocabulary. He shook his head.

"I may be old, but this body is still young enough to tangle with you." He said.

She laughed.

"So? Will you agree to my terms?" He looked into her eyes, holding her closer to himself.

"If you've got a good fight for me."

"Oh." He smiled. "You're gonna love it."

His plans were already moving steadily. It had taken him awhile to remember, but when he came to the realization of which voice accompanied the rat, the pieces fell into place.

"Great, now roll back here, old man, and let me take you for another ride. You won't be going anywhere till I'm satisfied."

She pulled him closer.

"I wouldn't want it any other way." He smirked.

The light of the cigarette was quenched and the bud flung from the rocking bed. They shared a kiss, she complained about the taste of tobacco, but they were already deep within each other's embrace. Not as lovers, but as partners.

— — —

When the car came to a stop, Rose realized why the Slum Lords didn't care about the destruction brought upon the slums.

She stepped out of the vehicle, eyes in wonder at the building in front of her. It was pure white, dirtied with desert sands and winds, but it was definitely a mansion slapped in the middle of the desert. Two stories tall, gates of black, she couldn't help but wonder why someone would need a place so big.

"This is Walker's house, his home away from the Slums," Samuel commented, she saw him shift with his bare feet, there was an odd glare to his eyes, but he walked forwards nonetheless. "Come in, let's go."

Lilias followed silently behind the two as Rose carried Elsa in her arms and headed in. There were guards at the gates but, eyeing Samuel, they were allowed to proceed.

"Put her on that couch for now," Her instructor pointed left as soon as they made way into the house.

There was a couch of white in what appeared to be the living room. She saw a television core attached to the most frontal wall, a table of glass, and two more couches that boxed the area in. She did as she was told, gingerly placing Elsa down upon the couch with slight unease.

When that was done, she walked with the two to another section of the house where a table stood, surrounded by chairs, and a glass door to the left that looked on to a desert landscape of brown below the dusk of the sun.

The sound of clicking rang and Paul came walking, his steps steady and spaced. His stride was one of confidence. He fixed his tie and Rose smelled smoke on him.

"Cigarette?" Lilias turned to him.

"A smoke before chatter," The Slum Lord replied with a smile, pulling a chair from the table and sitting down.

Behind him, there were two guards that Rose recognized. When he had prepped himself comfortably, ignoring the gaze of Samuel, he turned to hers.

"Lovely to see you, again. I'm surprised the Reaper left you, but I'm glad she did."

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He smiled at her and she narrowed her eyes.

She asked him, "What did you call me here for?"

His smile deepened and he leaned closer, elbows on the table and turned to Lilias.

"Is the group dead?"

"Yes." The dragonian said, matter-of-factly.

"Good." He nodded. "Very good."

Then he looked to Samuel.

"There was nothing you could do, right?"

The bare-chested male shrugged his shoulders loosely. "Were you briefed before you came here?"

"I've heard the report. Your joining the battle tipped it in our favor, but no one could expect him to hold a defensive field as large as that. That's costly, he must have connections, which compounds our theory even more."

Rose furrowed her brows as he finally turned her way.

"You, Rose, right?"

"Yes."

"I need your help, and I'm sure what I can pay for it is more than worth the troubles to come."

Rose wasn't foolish. "Depends on what it is."

He leaned back into his chair, reached into his suit to pull both a cigarette and a lighter out. As the smoke came, and he clapped the metal object on the table, he spoke.

"Join the war. Fight for me. But most importantly, help me find the Lucky Lord and I'll—"

She slashed him off at those words. "I keep hearing the term 'Lucky Lord' thrown around, but why is he such a lucky lord?"

Walker raised a brow and his cigarette from his lips to release smoke.

"That Rat didn't tell you very much hmm. Well, I'll speak."

He shrugged.

"There was a war before this. The details are insignificant, but know that I had the Red District a fingertip away. Yet, after I killed the lord of that section, imagine my shock when a dark elf walked in with his sister, defeated the vagrants of the previous lord, and countered my already battered army."

She saw a light of rage in his eyes and his voice cooled to a chill.

"He walked in on the last day of the war. Countered. And before we could even take a step in retaliation, Alos sent its army to quell the war. It was much too perfect a coincidence to have not been planned."

"So. . .?" Rose's mind clicked as Walker smiled.

"The rest of us Lords suspect Brian was planted in that position by Alos. None of us acknowledge him. He is a Lucky Lord because only luck could bring about such a beneficial status for him."

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