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Captains (Uno, Lyra, & the Shepherds)

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Reggie laughed. It was humorless and cold-his white teeth flashing at Lyra before he became serious again.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into niñita. Go home.” he jerked his towards the door. “Deja que los hombres hablen.”

Roger put a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. Clay inched closer incrementally.

"Oh, so you're a man now?" Lyra shot back, a fierce look on her face. "You quit like a little boy, Reggie. Real professional, the way you stomped out, all covered in your own blood. Now you come at me, eh?" She looked him up and down, looking disgusted. "Estúpido. What's your dumb game?"

“You trust them? Even though you know they’re hiding things from you.” His eyes moved between Roger, Val, and Clay.

Clay moved, coming beside Val. “That’s enough. Lyra, you need to go, now. Roger,”

Roger was already in agreement. He urged Lyra to go out towards the backdoor with a guiding hand.

“You always listen as well as your dogs?” he looked Lyra up and down now, mimicking. “Good girl.” he clicked his tongue.

If Lyra wasn’t going to punch this man soon, I was.

Every bone in my body was grinding the other to a pulp to contain myself.  Antagonizing, clearly, was his intent. And he was a natural at it. But that didn’t make me want to punch him any less.

I caught the movement of Roger’s hand protectively to Lyra shoulder. Second to Clay moving in closer. By all accounts there was more than enough of us surrounding her. And why did I get the sense this is just where Reggie wanted everyone? In close quarters our proximity could be a detriment just as much as an aid…

“Lyra,” my voice slipped out. Pleading, I think, which was an unfavorable tone. Because I was pretty sure I was furious- and there was a part of me egging her on to nail him. It was pleading with myself more like.

”Lets take a quick walk,” I managed, flashing my gaze downwards before I made eye contact with Reggie and ruined it all.

Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Delgado had gone off his rocker. She wanted to slug him in that smug face of his. His nose was already swollen and misshapen from Clay breaking it earlier. She'd finish what he started and make sure it never looked the same again.

But he was right about one thing: she was in the dark, and the people closest to her were the reason why.

Clay spoke. Val spoke. Roger moved to guide her out. Then Reggie opened his big mouth again.

"No!" Lyra shouted out, throwing up her hand to gesture stop. She glanced back at Clay, then Val. She was angry, but not at him. Her eyes almost expressed something of an apology. Regret. Something. But it was gone in a flash as she looked back furiously at Reggie. That hand balled up into a fist and she was shaking her head now, "No, no, no, no." An accusatory finger shot out, aimed at his face. "Explícalo. Ahora mismo. Ahora mismo, o te juro que haré algo de lo que todos nos vamos a arrepentir. You were there that night, weren't you?"

“Te mostrare.”

Clay could feel the energy change. “Roger, get her out, NOW!” he barked, but it was too late.

Lyra wasn’t going have an explanation- it was a demonstration.

Reggie was transforming.

Roger froze, paralyzed. Clay moved from behind the bar to shove them both towards the exit!

I don’t know what I was expecting. Certainly not a civil conversation. This was a western showdown masquerading as a conversation. But I hadn’t been expecting Reggie to go straight for the big reveal. We had been all song and dance- what had happened?

There was no time to think. My body just moved- following the movement of Roger and interceding my body between Lyra and Reggie. If Reggie intended to leap to other human, he would first go through me.  I was hoping Clay could take care of that before it came to that, though.

I likewise was pushing Lyra towards the door- and if she wouldn’t move, then I’d pick her up and haul her over my shoulder.

 

She'd been expecting Delgado to pull something. She had her other hand on her gun and she had been ready to draw the whole time.

That was not what she was expecting.

At first she thought he was choking. Or spasming. Having a fit. Then her eyes bugged out, watching his form shift. The smell of sweat became something else--something both foreign and terrifyingly familiar. Every fibre of her being told her to run. But she drew out that gun, ready to fire square at his chest--when Val intervened. She didn't resist his interference, but her legs felt like they'd turn to jello if she moved.

She wouldn’t move at my tug- a flash of movement by her side. In a breath I had her over my shoulder, and in another I secured the arm by her holster.

So glanced to my shoulder and saw Roger, momentarily frozen.  With my free hand I yanked him by the hand.

“Come on,” I hissed.

And we were moving.

Roger complied and moved, his face pale and his eyes distant-he was somewhere else in spirit.

Clay was at the rear; he stopped, watching them go, “Lock it up Val!! Nobody gets in or out til Cha-“

A swipe of Reggie’s massive arm silenced Clay as his body was thrown like a doll against the bar! A thunderous crash could be heard, and Clay transformed! No sooner was Val out did violent crashes and snarls erupt from inside!

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