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Maybe you shouldn’t. The comment hung on the air, noosed by the unspoken wariness wrapped about both women. Grym eventually chuckled, but it was uneasy, as she imagined Zef was as well.
Admittedly, Grym’s hunting of the gods was slimmer than her companion’s. She knew little about traitors – inside the Atharim or otherwise – because she kept to herself. It was easier to stay alive that way, but even Grym knew that a few contacts here and there came in handy.
Maybe it was time to catch up.
“You ever need help with that, you be sure to give me a call,” she said, remembering that fucker in the abandoned theatre. A bitch to take out, and Grym almost lost her neck in it. Someone having her back may not be so bad a thing.
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Zef smiled. "One could always use help with such things. But first I have to find one. The trick there is to find one strong enough to be useful, but young enough that you can train him well." Zef chuckled to herself. "I remember reading about one of the former archangels going after one of the traitors. He killed most of the team."
Her drink ran dry when she pulled the last swig of it. "How do you get the trust of a traitor, and tame him so you can use him?" Zef tapped her finger against her bottom lip.
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Traitors.
They were joking. The glib looks and sly words implied as much. But still, now that Grym thought about it, she was reminded of recent events. Still, her skin was intact because she kept her distance. Grym was a rare face around Atharim business, the formal kind anyway. She was last in headquarters for the time of her initiation, and that was longer ago than she cared to think about. Moscow HQ she visited a couple of times, only for the required check-ins.
She didn't comment on Zef's proposal, instead tapping her finger against the rim of the bottle like she was considering it. In the end, she shook her head quietly and mumbled something as she took a drink. "Not worth it. Just kill 'em all."
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Zef smirked. "That is definitely more fun." Though she said it out loud, he still pondered how best to capture a god and exploit them.
It had been fun. "If you are ever in need of a helping hand." Zef pushed a card with information on how to contact her if needed. There was no phone number, just an address with instructions and a phrase to say. Her father's network of friends was almost as extensive as the Atharim's reach -- except these were everyday people. This one a store front on Nikolskaya street that sold books. "Until next time."
Zef left the bar and slipped back into the shadows. She had a god to hunt.
[[ wasn't sure what else to do so figured was a good place to end it. ]]
