Lords and Ladies (2.8)

The man smiles.  “The woman, miss.”

Destiny nods.  She puts her hand on the crystal ball, concentrating...

“I see...the Library,” she murmurs.  “A beautiful morning.  The woman awakes...”

***

Kitty yawns, brushing her hair as she hears Annie snore behind her.

It’s been a week since the Mystery Of The Zoinomicon (as Pamela liked to refer to it), and already it’s starting to seem like the distant past.  Kitty’s days had returned to their usual banal tone, aside from her dresses becoming fancier and a bit more tiger themed thanks to her sister’s insistence.  That, and Annie was staying overnight regularly now.

Annie would never explain why; she was always her usual, chipper self.  But if she was spending the night, it usually meant that something was going on at home that she didn’t want to face.

Kitty sighs, putting the brush down.  She heads downstairs, saying good morning to Yu as she does every morning.  She prepares a nice breakfast - today it’s eggs and bacon, once again thanks to Lady insisting on stocking her sisters’ fridge now.  She sets an extra spot for Annie, and then heads down to the front desk, unlocking the door and sitting down.

Another comfortable day of Librarianing.

Ahh.

The phone rings.  Kitty picks it up.

“Hello, this is the Library,” she says, forcing herself to sound chipper.  “Kit-...Duchess Kitten Tiger speaking.”

“WHERE IS THE PRINCESS!?” shouts Rhoda’s voice on the end of the phone.

Kitty rolls her eyes, sitting back in the chair.  “Rhoda, she’s right here.  She’s safe.  You just need to come down here.  It’ll be fine.”

“But mother-” hisses Rhoda, but Kitty doesn’t let her finish.

“You and Annie’s bodyguard are supposed to keep an eye on her, yes?  Then stop bellyaching and come down here.  It’s that simple.”  Kitty heard a click as the door opened.  “I have to go.  Good-bye, Rhoda.”  Kitty puts the phone down and turns to the new patron.

He’s a nervous looking fellow in a large overcoat, with a bowler hat.  Probably a dragon.  He glances back and forth, looking around.

The phone rings again.  Kitty sighs.

“One moment, sir,” she says, picking up the phone again.  “Hello, this is the Library.  Duchess Lady Ki-”

“Kitty!” hisses Dante’s voice on the other end.

“...Dante?  Uh, hi, what is it...?”

“Look, we need to talk somewhere.  Something very strange has happened.”

Click.

Kitty’s eyes drift towards the nervous man.  He’s now pointing a gun in Kitty’s face.

Out of sight, her hand drifts towards the shotgun under her desk.

“I’ll call you back later, Dante,” she says, hanging up.

Her hand touches the shotgun, moving around the trigger.

“Duchess?”  says the man, his face twitching and then turning into a grimace.

“Yes?”  she raises the shotgun.

“The Mother sends her regards,” he says.

There’s a muzzle flash, and the sound of a gunshot.

Blood splatters on Kitty’s dress.

Thump.  The man falls forward onto the front desk and begins bleeding out of a rather unpleasant hole in his head.

Kitty slowly looks back up at the space formerly occupied by the dead body.

A man over six foot tall is standing there now, holding a double barrelled shotgun with one hand.  It’s still smoking.

The man is white but heavily sunburned, his face covered in a thick black beard.  Black, shaded goggles cover his eyes.

He’s wearing a black stovepipe hat.  And wearing a long black overcoat, with a badge hanging off the side.  It’s unbutton, and inside is a belt that appears to be covered in pistols.

He slings the shotgun over his shoulder and takes off his hat, revealing a clipped mess of shaggy black hair.

“Miss, are you alright?”  he asks, his voice deep.

Kitty just stares, her heart pounding, one hand still on her own gun.

“We ought to introduce ourselves.  I have no name.”

Kitty continues staring.

“But most folks just call me Lincoln.  Officer Lincoln, with the Police Department.”  He nods.

“Muh,” says Kitty.

Another man walks past Lincoln.  This one’s wearing a more traditional police uniform, admittedly rare in the city.  He seems to be of Native American descent, and carries a pistol in one holster and a sword in the other.

“And I’m Officer Richard Wolf,” says the other.  “The rest of our squad is still getting unpacked.”

“...Um.  Am I allowed to scream?”

Lincoln and Wolf look at each other.

“...Yes,” says Lincoln, flatly.  “If it will help.”

“Oh good.  Excuse me.”

Kitty screams.