"You mean this?" I unfold the voucher from my wallet and present it to Boggs, "You could have gotten me fooled, y'know."

"I'm serious." Boggs's expression doesn't waver as we walk down the path toward the parking lot, "That's what the old fool gave me. The key to where he's hiding right now."

"Then why're you still here?" I raise an eyebrow, "Delacrox was clearly expecting you to go after him right after he disappeared."

"Because my life doesn't revolve around the old fool?" Boggs rolls her eyes with a snort, "Just because someone tells me to do something means I've got to do it? Get real, Alex."

"You said the old Grandmaster was like family to you." I quirk my mouth at Boggs, "Seems like that sentiment doesn't mean much at the end of the day."

"Sure it means something." Boggs folds her arms and looks squarely at me, "But if your Aunt or Uncle decided to jump off a skyscraper, claiming that it would lead to another world, would you do it as well?"

"Of course not." I scoff, "Duh."

"And that's what Delacroix is to me." Boggs gives a crooked smile, "I treasure him as an Uncle and he was probably the closest person in the world to me. But some leaps of faith are just a little too far."

"You didn't bother even checking the voucher out at the Sensorium?" I ask as our footsteps crunch down on shards of hail buried in the snow.

"No." Boggs shakes her head, "The bar was just getting on its feet at that time. There was always something that needed my attention."

"It would take just one evening." I point out.

"My busiest hours are in the evening." a smooth denial from my companion.

"And you didn't mind giving the voucher to me either." I smirk and Boggs's expression immediately grows more guarded.

"What are you trying to say, Alex?" she queries, her tone bland.

"Just saying that you were awfully keen to get rid of the voucher." I wave the offending item right at Boggs's face, "Why's that?"

"Like I said, I've got a life of my own." Boggs turns away, but her discomfort is obvious.

"Giving me the voucher wasn't just a test." I scowl at her, "You wanted me to sound the monks out for you, correct?"

"Then why did I wait so many years to take action?" Boggs quickly refutes, "Stop being ridiculous."

"Because the monks would only entertain an Awakened." I smug right back, "You admitted it yourself. And I'm the first Awakened you've met ever since Delacroix pulled his disappearing act."

"Ugh." Boggs groans as she rubs her face, "Alright fine. I wasn't sure what the old fool was planning, so I didn't want to bite off more than I could chew. Happy?"

"So you sent me to test the waters." I shake my head in exaggerated disappointment, "That's cold, Boggs. Ice cold."

"Is that how you speak to your Aunt?" Boggs tries to crack a joke, but it falls flat. I just stare at Boggs, my expression dour and unrelenting.

"I was protecting you from the shadows?" Boggs pipes up hopefully, "That counts for something right?"

"You do realize that I managed to give you the slip after entering the market, right?" I give Boggs a critical look. More like Breath shook Boggs off when he came to meet me, but y'know, details.

"Ugh." another pained groan from the bartender as she reels from another metaphorical slap on the face.

"And next time you want to play guardian angel," I don't let up, "try telling the person you're trying to protect."

"Look, I'm sorry, OK?" Boggs finally gives in, "No harm was done anyway right?"

"Yeah." I pat Boggs on the back, "No harm done."

No point turning over old coals like this, I prefer to remain on good terms on the only other Awakened I know. Boggs has already proven to be a veritable font of information, even if a fair amount of it is rather disheartening. But being forewarned is better than living in ignorance.

"And?" Boggs pipes up expectantly, her eyes afire.

"What are you going on about now?" I grumble back, amazed at how thick skinned the woman is. Even admitting to sending someone as a possible sacrificial pawn didn't seem to embarrass Boggs the slightest.

"What happened after you showed the monks that voucher?" Boggs insists impatiently, "Did they tell you about the old fool?"

"Nope." I smirk at Boggs, relishing her disappointment, "They just said that the voucher was useless and I had been sent to the Sensorium as a joke."

"What?" Boggs looks utterly crushed, "That can't be. Delacroix wouldn't have gone through all that trouble just to play a practical joke on me. The monks might be hiding something."

"Ask the monks yourself." I waive off the objection, "Anyway, I didn't get the impression that they were lying to me on this point."

So here it is. Boggs doesn't know anything about the Holy of Holies. Or the fact that the relic had been vandalized. If the voucher was the 'key' to finding Delacroix, that meant his last act before disappearing was accessing that mysterious contraption. With the Holy of Holies trashed, Delacroix's trail had gone cold. Boggs had waited too long to investigate the matter. There's only one conclusion I can draw from the threads of information before me.

Someone doesn't want Delacroix to be found. Ever.

"Did Delacroix have any enemies?" I ask.

"Plenty." Boggs laughs, "Goes with being the big hero."

I nearly facepalm at my own stupidity. Of course I wouldn't get a useful answer from that question.

"How many people did Delacroix give those vouchers to?" I change tack instead, narrowing down the potential suspect list.

"I don't know." Boggs thinks for a moment, "He never told me of any others, at least. I might very well be the only one the old fool opened up to."

"Right." I sigh. The voucher would originally have come from the monks themselves. If Boggs was the only person Delacroix confided in, the news might have leaked from the Sensorium to a malicious third party. Or maybe one of the monks decided to sabotage the Holy of Holies.

All this conspiracy business was already giving me a headache. I weakly offer the voucher back to Boggs but she refuses it, politely pushing it back to me. As both of us enter the parking lot, my eyes are immediately pulled toward a glint coming from within an unassuming car parked at the far end of the grounds. The car's windows are heavily tinted, but thanks to my Awakened senses I can easily make out what I'm seeing.

A discarded skirt. And a pair of men's underwear. Both draped over the driver's seat.

"Someone's getting busy." I chuckle as a stockinged leg ducks back under the car's tinted window.

"Leave them be." Boggs suppresses a laugh of her own, "Those two are too busy to bother about us, Adam."

I take the hint from Boggs as she uses my 'new' name. With a possible audience listening in to our conservation, matters had to be discussed far more delicately.

"Why don't you want this back?" I put the voucher back into my wallet.

"Can't be bothered with it." Boggs explains, "Like I said, I've got the bar now. That's all I need."

"More like you're scared." I point out, "Sitting in the bar is safe. Trying something new, that's breaking out of your comfort zone, isn't it?"

"Show some respect to your Aunt Cynthia." Boggs shoots back, "I spent years building my bar up to where it is today. Its my life, Adam."

"Fine. Fine." I quickly back down, not wanting to get into a quarrel, "We've already gone over this."

"Though you're right about one thing," Boggs suddenly looks pensive, "The bar does keep me safe."

"Obviously." I chortle, "Not having bioforms or mercenaries out for your blood does help with personal safety."

"Its not just that." Boggs elaborates, "Remember how trouble has a way of finding certain people?"

"Yeah?" I purse my lips, wondering where Boggs is going with this.

"I made myself the opposite of that kind of person." Boggs gestures at her bartender's getup, "Getting a regular job. Staying in the background. That sort of thing. And trouble stayed away ever since."

"Advice from your storybooks?" I inquire, recalling how Boggs could tell her future from vague memories of fairytales she allegedly read.

"Not exactly." Boggs becomes thoughtful, "Rather than fighting the current, I sort of let it stagnate if that makes sense? Trouble can't find me as long as I stay far, far away."

"Delaying the inevitable, you mean?" I frown at Boggs's solution to my conundrum. Sitting around and doing nothing seems a bit too easy. If escaping a fated end was such a simple matter, Delacroix would be sitting at home watching TV right now.

"As long as the inevitable happens after I die peacefully in my sleep," Boggs unlocks her car and reaches for the door, "I don't care. Beats flailing about any day of the week."

"Good point." I agree and walk to a nearby trash can. Unbuckling my holster, I prepare to toss Love and its furniture into the bin.

"Its not so simple, Adam." Boggs remarks, steadily watching me.

"Really?" I scoff as my hand approaches the mouth of the trash can. But before I can toss Love into the heap of garbage, a sense of wrenching nausea seizes me, nearly causing me to throw up. My arm instinctively retracts and the sensation recedes almost instantly.

"Its not so easy to let go." Boggs says, her eyes shining with understanding, "Especially something that's an important part of your past."

"How do you do it then?" I heave, getting my composure back.

Boggs raises a hand, showing me the wedding band.

"Divorce might not be possible. But you can always sleep in a separate room. Or just ignore your spouse. Get creative, Adam."

"I'm not even married." I answer ruefully, "But I understand your meaning."

"You can't get rid of the past." Boggs elaborates, "Only learn to live with it. One way or the other."

"Your way of living with the past seems pretty sad, to be honest." I remark, thinking back to Boggs's analogy.

"It works for me." Boggs refutes as she climbs into her car, "Want a ride back to the bar, Adam?"

"I'll take the monorail home." I refuse the offer, "Thanks for the talk, Aunt Cynthia. It helped, I think."

"Glad to hear it." Boggs slams the car door shut and I turn away, walking to the park's exit.

....................

"Boggs is Adam's aunt?" James murmurs softly to himself in surprise. Before he can say anything else, his sweaty body is pulled back into the darkness of the car.

"They'll see you." Rachel giggles as she nibbles James's ear fondly.

"That's what you want isn't it?" James demands, "Parking the car here, doing it in a public space -"

"Why so shy?" Rachel asks as she wraps her legs around James's waist, "We've been doing this ever since the time in the orphanage."

"That was different." James disputes hotly, "And you know it."

"But at the end of the day," Rachel's legs tighten, crushing her partner like a vice, "you can't say no, can you?"

James makes a defeated sound, shutting his eyes.

"Besides, what you're really worried about," Rachel's insidious voice whispers into his ear, "is her seeing us together, isn't it?"

"Stop being ridiculous." James grits out, "There is no 'her'. You know that for a fact."

"Of course not." Rachel begins licking James's neck, "You're not even supposed to know that she's a woman after all."

"So stop this!" James insists, "The Acting Grandmaster, if he finds out, we'll be in trouble!"

"I'm not scared of him." Rachel murmurs as she bites into James's shoulder, "And he can't do anything to you with Latour around, can he?"

"Let me go ..." James moans, tears running down his face from the pain of Rachel's bites. Her tongue flicks up, lapping up the tears.

Like a hungry wolf.