During the war, there were many nights where I wouldn't go to sleep whether it be for working on something or fear for my team's safety. Which was fine because I didn't always require it. On peaceful days when I wouldn't manipulate any bioelectricity, I could go three nights before I would feel the fatigue. Of course, that didn't mean that I didn't refrain from sleeping just because I didn't have to.
However, last night, was one of those nights where I had no choice but to remain awake. There were many reasons why. Kind of hard to sleep with a naked woman next to you. More so when said woman was one of the leaders of a terrorist organization.
With nothing to do the entire night, I stayed awake. Listening to her breathing, feeling the warmth of her body. Even now as dawn crested, and the sun glared through the hotel curtains, illuminating the bed, I still didn't move.
I watched as a sunbeam directly hit her face and I knew that if that happened to me, I would have been awoken. However, her breathing pattern didn't falter. I genuinely couldn't tell if she was sleeping or faking it.
And just like that, another hour goes by, until I finally lose patience. I sit up slowly, content on not waking her and just leaving her in bed alone. Rather not deal with an awkward situation if I don't have to. But unfortunately, that seemed to be what she was waiting on.
"You're awake," she murmurs, voice low, half-drowsy, half-calculated.
"I don't sleep long, if at all." I admit to her. This I didn't mind or care to hide, mostly cause a good portion of people wouldn't even believe me.
"Hmm." She says as she turns away from me. "You know, its bad manners to leave a woman that you've just has intercourse with by themselves."
I ignored her and reached for my mask that was set neatly beside hers. Not something I did, of course. She pressed on.
"Did our night mean nothing to you? Here you are, already thinking of work and not what happened."
I made sure to not answer that one. This was a trap akin to a mine; it needed to be delicately disarmed. Agreeing that it meant something to me, which it didn't, would put me at her mercy in a sense. It would allow her to manipulate me. However, saying no right here and now would potentially keep me from reaping any benefits that there was, to being aligned with her. It's amazing that most of my interactions with Talon was remaining silent and that being the correct answer.
She sits up, pulling the bed sheets around her shoulders as she studies me.
""I see why Cain speaks so highly of you. Look at you, so focused on the hunt."
Nyx stretches lazily, revealing her alluring figure once more, an act too intentional to be genuine, and stands, wrapping the sheet tighter around her. She walks to the vanity and retrieves her mask.
"I can't help but agree with him that you are impressive, well, in some ways more than most."
Her jab stings a little, but I don't let it show. "You didn't expect much."
"Quite the contrary. With how much Cain speaks about you, I expected you to impress me. You exceeded those. This would have taken me close to a year to achieve on my own. But in one night, I can almost feel that relic in my hands."
I stand, retrieving my coat and reattaching my mask
"I'm heading out." I say.
She walks into the closet and calls out, "Happy hunting."
Hours later at the highend parts of Midtown....
I checked the ping for the third time, making sure that what I was seeing was what I was going to have to believe.
I knew that the Curator would flee to a safe house as soon as he escaped last night, but this... wasn't something I expected. I expected him to flee to a manor, where he would be catered to appease his hurt pride, using spas, manicures and exquisite foods to cozy back up to his lifestyle.
He fled to a penthouse all right. But this one was rundown, looking like they were renovating but gave up halfway. The building towers over Midtown like a skeleton of wealth, forty-eight floors of mirrored glass that shimmer with the grey of early morning. The top twelve floors are under renovation, sealed off from tenants due to structural damage caused during the Omnic Crisis.
I was expecting resistance, but it looked like the man gathered his whole army here to defend him. A false calm hangs in the air, although you could tell that one move could put his men on high alert.
Some would think a moment like this was a perfect opportunity for infiltration. I could see multiple ways of entry from the tree several meters away. Instead, this was the worst time. If he was elsewhere getting pampered as he recovered, he was more prone to making mistakes. But here, this was the definition of a cornered rat. From the nearly hundred or so men that were clearly taking shifts and double patrols, he knew he was being hunted. And he didn't look like he was going anywhere.
If this hunt was going to continue, I would need to watch and wait for my opportunity.