⤿ forty-four

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Artemisia paced around her room, playing with the shirt that had been in her hand for minutes

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Artemisia paced around her room, playing with the shirt that had been in her hand for minutes. She was too distracted to continue packing. Dianna had a hypnotizing way with words, even when telling the silliest stories. Thanks to Bruce's training, her captivating abilities became her nature, entrancing anyone who heard her voice.

"So I took her to this old bar to test if she really meant it. Not a peep. She was relatively nice and quiet. I think she didn't trust herself if she opened her mouth. Anyway. Thing is, she overheard these two henchmen talking about Crane. They seemed from different parties, so she suggested we listened in.

"There is this mobster who isn't happy with Crane calling the shots. Valeska Nox. The other henchman then reveals his boss doesn't like it either but he's afraid to stand up. Most of their fucked up committee fears Crane and Red Hood but they don't hate them. So they won't do anything about it."

Artemisia took the teen's pause to take a seat in her bed. Her fingers caressed the fabric of her shirt. "So how does one take advantage of that situation?"

"Like I said, they're scared." Dianna's grin could be heard through her words. "They won't act directly against Crane. They can, however, forget to delete secret messages, talk a bit too loud in public places. . . we can exploit that fear, exchanging information for control over Gotham. Of course, we wouldn't hold up our part of the deal."

"Did you tell this to Kory?"

Dianna hummed. "Blackfire did. She needed to clear her name. We convinced Kory to follow our leads. I was going to join them but I can't dirty my image by being seen with crime lords. I'll do something productive for the city, instead, and visit compromised families after last night's vicious attacks."

"Let me know if you need anything."

She took a second to breathe. The line crackled as she shifted the phone closer to her mouth. "Just be safe. Anyone who takes his drug, become violent, careless. It doesn't matter how they behaved before. Trust no one."

After saying their goodbyes and see-you-laters, Artemisia finally dropped her shirt. She glanced around the room. She still had a few belongings to pack. She began by folding the rest of her shirts, a few sweaters, and socks. Next were her weapons, saved in a long, foldable organizer. Two were missing.

She dropped beside the bed, searching under it. Nothing. A kick in her shin forced her to jump to her feet. Milo grinned at her response. She leaned on the doorframe, arms folded across her chest. "I love the idea that you and this dick are fixing your relationship, but remember this isn't a vacation. We're here for work."

Picking a dagger from under the dresser, she shrugged. "We haven't been doing much."

"You haven't. I've let you off the leash for now." Milo pushed away from the door and fished a blade from under her pillow. Artemisia had hidden that just in case. She gave a thankful grin, packing it along with the others. "I expect you can drop what you're doing when we need you."

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐘 ― d. grayson ¹Where stories live. Discover now