Randall Grifford glowered from behind his desk. L.C. stood across from his desk staring at the different animal heads mounted in various stages of ferocious expression.
"I'm pardoning you for dragging me away from the crossroads."
L.C. nodded. "It was the only way."
"I know. L.C., I miss my brother. I miss him every second, of everyday, but he was right. The Order has to change. We are being hunted globally, by the traitorous swine that once laid our foundation, and by our enemies, Coven. Magick is changed, and it began here. Gone are the days where we hunted without consequence."
"Tell me what you need."
"I need you to keep silence. The next generation of hunters are coming. David, and Karen will be the future of The Order, but there will be others. Cameron Dean, the son of Gerald Dean will be leaders on our society. Do as you will in the law, but leave us be."
"...then I am going to need a few concessions."
"Name them."
"No guns. No ballistics. Nothing you can trace so easily. It will make your duties difficult."
"Incredibly."
"Maybe. Maybe you adapt. Evolve. There are other ways."
"Is that all?"
"No. I won't stand for murder."
"I find it may be difficult to hunt coven."
"I didn't say not to hunt. I said I won't stand for murder. You will need to create a code, and your society will have to live by it. Hunt only those who break the code. Those whose conjuring causes harm, chaos, or loss of life. I won't cover for you... but I'm not going to actively investigate you. No evidence. No bodies, if it's possible. I'm a good cop, and I don't like this... but I understand there's danger out there - evil - the law cannot stop. Don't give me a reason, and I won't give you any, either."
"I accept."
"Is this all?" L.C. crossed his arms.
"No. Everything we know can never be knowledge. Everything disappears. Yesterday never happened. There is no Bane. Jonathan died with his father in a hunt. There was never a Cassus Finley in our contemporary Driftwood."
"...and the future generations?"
"From a clean slate."
L.C. dropped his arms to his sides. "...and you?"
"I will rebuild The Order, and raise us up humbly. Our people will flock to Driftwood, and we will stay to the outskirts. We will stay as far below the radar we can."
"I accept."
"Then we have an accord?"
"What about Bane?"
"The creature that does not exist?"
"Yes."
"We've heard nothing of him since the crossroads. If he shows up again, we'll handle it the best we can. So will you."
"Deal."
Grifford smiled. "Then we have an accord. Your service to The Order has not gone unappreciated... our coffers are still strong, and deep. A substantial sum has been allocated to an account for you."
L.C. made a face.
"I don't care what you do with it, but it is yours. Use it to live more comfortably, or donate it to your favorite charities. Whatever you do, you may not give it back. Your indentured service to The Order is complete, and you are dismissed. Live a safe life, Loose Cannon."