It was hard to tell what age or ethnicity the woman was under her dramatic kabuki make-up. Best guess, early-to-mid-twenties, and Japanese but mixed with some European ancestry.
The unnatural quiet the class had been under broke. With one voice, her students started calling out questions – about the women, what they were doing here, why did they want to talk to Miss Miller?
“Quiet,” the woman called Fallon said, her voice level but her tone absolute, and in a situation Larissa had never before experienced her class shut up as they were told. “Miss Miller, I have some questions for you. Please step outside with me.”
The small Japanese woman sat on Larissa’s desk, crossing her legs once she was settled. “It might have sounded like a request, but it really wasn’t.” She flicked her fingers at Larissa in a dismissive gesture. “You need to go. I’ll stay with the kiddies.”
Sure enough, the redhead didn’t look like she was moving, and Larissa didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her students. Stifling a sigh, she said, “Class, talk quietly amongst yourselves for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
There was an empty classroom a few rooms down. Larissa went in, not bothering with politeness to allow the woman to enter first. The redhead followed, though not before her eyes scanned the room. Classic tactical maneuver. No cop in the world ever entered anywhere before getting the lay of the land.
The woman didn’t crowd her, but her unwavering gaze and unvoiced suspicions made breathing a tad difficult, like wearing a shirt with a constrictive collar. It was so different than how she felt with the gargoyle, where toward the end their interactions edged into the companionable.
Larissa cleared her throat, ready to start this inquisition. “How did you know where to find me, or who I am? Who are you, for that matter?”
“Me? I’m Fallon, and the monochrome midget currently alone with your students is Laire. We’re part of a group that protects the city.”
Larissa crossed her arms in front of her chest. “If that’s true, why didn’t I know you existed before today? If you know about me, then you know my dad’s the Chief of Police, and he’s never mentioned you.”
Fallon’s lips twitched, though if the tic was irritation or amusement Larissa couldn’t guess. The woman’s features were neutral as she studied Larissa. “Why would you expect daddy to tell you? From what we can gather, it would be the opposite.”
The zing brought a flush of heat to the back of Larissa’s neck, but she pressed her lips hard to keep from responding. This woman wasn’t going to provoke her into anything, if that was indeed her plan. And the bit of embarrassment didn’t mask the fact Fallon neither confirmed nor denied that Dad knew about them. If this whole protection business was the truth, that meant either Dad had kept this from her – and given his standard modus operandi that wouldn’t be a shock – or this group was very, very secret.
And if a very, very secret group told you about their existence…
“Oh gods, you’re going to kidnap me now, aren’t you?”
The corner of Fallon’s lip quirked at Larissa’s outburst, that shadow of a dimple again displayed. “Your students saw you walk out of a room with me. It would be kind of stupid for me to grab you and run.”
“You could make them forget. Who knows what kind of magic you can perform.”
“I don’t do magic. I turn your attention back to Friday night and the big-ass sword I was carrying. My job is to run and swing.”
Larissa’s head was heavy on her shoulders. Laying it on the desk and closing her eyes until the woman disappeared would be heaven. Unfortunately, there was no chance Fallon would cooperate. “What do you want from me?”
Fallon walked over and crouched in front of her, bringing them to eye level. “What happened Friday?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You were there so you obviously knew what was going to happen.”
Annoyance reflected itself in Fallon’s features. “You would think I should have been told the reason I was there, but no, the person who sent me doesn’t believe in giving anyone details. They think it’s enough to send you on your way.” By the end of the sentence Fallon’s eyes were narrow slits and murder was written over her face.
Not anxious to step on this particular minefield, Larissa still had to ask. “What about afterwards? Couldn’t you get any information from the zombies?”
“No. No information from that path.” Fallon’s tone was a stop sign, telling Larissa no questions asked would be answered.