“What do you have to say about today’s events?” the reporter quizzes him.
Clint glances down at his desk, then decides to just pick up the paper with his statement on it, obscuring the lower half of his face as he reads it out like a kid doing a book report.
“Delivery 2 Go doesn’t discriminate based on gender, ethnicity, or whether or not you sometimes turn into a werewolf. We stand behind our employees’ rights, but especially, their wrongs.”
He puts the paper down.
“Have you spoken with the employee as yet?”
“Her deliveries were all made on time.”
“Do Delivery 2 Go drivers usually…”
“I have to go,” Clint says, now looking at the camera man. “I’m done now.”
“If you could just answer one more question,” the reporter says, clearly regretting doing this live.
“Hi, guys, what’s the…”
At that moment, Darcy walks into the room, all smiles. Apparently she’s been emboldened by her little killing spree, and has just decided to waltz back in here wearing D2G leathers still noticeably covered in blood.
“Oh,” she says, when she sees the social feed playing on Kirin’s tablet. “Are people still watching those? I really didn’t think they were still watching those.”
“Darcy…” I lower my voice.
“I know, you want me at the academy, and I was supposed to be getting better, but I feel better now. Today was good for me.”
“Darcy, you were attacked today.”
“I know,” she says, shrugging. “But they got theirs, didn’t they. Made the news, even!”
“You could have been hurt.”
“I know,” she says. “That’s why I killed them.”
“Spoken like a true soldier, I suppose,” Rafe acknowledges.
Darcy
I knew they’d be mad. Well, not Kirin. But Rafe looks unimpressed and Einar is giving me big ‘I told you so’ energy.
“The academy is going to see this. You could be expelled,” he says.
“Expelled for being awesome at fighting? Okay, sure. If they want. I don’t want to go back there anyway. I keep telling you guys. I like my job. I want to build my own life. The academy has treated me like they own me my whole fucking life, and they don’t even like me. I don’t think I care about them anymore. And I don’t think I care about this whole king thing, either. Sorry, I know you guys are really into it, but…”
“Yes, you could say we are really into it,” Einar says. “You could say we have dedicated our lives to the cause of restoring the proper bloodline to the throne.”
“Maybe you should get a different hobby. Who cares about this king stuff anyway? I bet neither king, the fake one or the real one, have any idea who any of you are. Why don’t you all chill?”
Kirin has been laughing since I suggested they get a new hobby. He is leaning against the wall, weak from amusement. Even Rafe is smiling.
I think I’m starting to get through to these guys. Einar’s behind the curve, but he’s older and I guess that’s what happens when you get old.
“Good point,” he says. “Maybe we should all chill. I know. Let’s all go down to Delivery 2 Go and get jobs as motorcycle couriers. Let’s forget about the theft of the throne, and make sure people’s doll collections get to them on time.”
“People really like their doll collections, and they don’t even know the king. I bet I could be in the same room as the king and not even know it. I could probably run the guy over and be none the wiser.”
Rafe is grinning broadly now, and Kirin is practically weak with hysterics.
