He waited in the cool predawn, patient figure on a bench, listening to the creek play along the rocks. The street lights scarcely reached this far onto the path, reflected off water and through trees just enough to cast shadows. The dimness did not bother him.
He was angry, that much he knew. He did not think his actions were a result of that anger, but he was not totally certain. He would not know, either, until the dissonance struck, or didn't.
At the moment, he did not care either way.
Her shoes whispered along the concrete, quiet steps, but not at all cautious. She did not fear him. The soft steps left the path, moved beside him, and stopped. He let her wait a moment before he looked at her and rose.
"You said it was urgent?" Light, cool voice, faintly curious.
"I did. Something happened tonight -- did you hear it?"
"Of course. What was it?"
His eyes narrowed; he confined his focus to the creek. "One of my associates was attacked."
"Oh?" Casual interest leaked past her control. She seemed genuinely curious.
He resonated, found her blank to him. "Yes. By three of your number -- pretending to be Judgment."
She laughed softly. "That must rankle, mustn't it?"
He quelled the rising fury. "I do not think this association is beneficial any longer."
"And I do not know what you are talking about." Her voice changed, became the clipped business tones he recognized. "I have not shared any information with unauthorized individuals --"
"Then explain to me how one of ours was attacked by *your* people." He turned his head just enough to see her from the edges of his eyes.
"Not *ours.*"
He spoke with exaggerated patience. "A Balseraph, a Calabite, a Djinn. The Djinn had Fate's attunement. -- I do not think they were *your* people, personally -- but they had to have acted on your information."
"Indeed they did not -- "
He cut her off, and they stared at each other. She shrugged finally, a concession, and smiled. "Cannot fool you today, can I?"
His eyes unfocused with feigned nonchalance. "I am curious -- how did you know? I told no one."
"Even I can tell that is a lie."
He turned a little more, and his hands knotted in his pockets. "Are you tapping my phone?"
She smirked. "You should be more careful -- surely you check such things?"
He would, in the future. But in the meantime -- "You had to know I would suspect you."
"We serve similar purposes in this instance -- you know that. No one wants Ethereals loose on the corporeal plane again. Not your Superior, and certainly not mine. What of it, if Fate intervenes on our behalf?"
His voice gave no clue of his anger. Icy: "Do not presume to know our goals."
"That associate of yours is already on dangerous ground, else your people would not be coming to ask questions at all."
"Be that as it may -- there has never been any agreement that you may step in where we have not to administer justice to our side."
Her facade slipped. "We do not always *ask*, Power. We do what needs doing. We do not, nor will ever, wait on *your* permission."
The anger fled, left cold purpose in its wake. His fingers tightened around cold metal. "You will learn restraint, Liar, or I will personally find and obliterate every last one of your people in this city." And he drew the gun, leveled the barrel at her.
No flinch. One eyebrow arched, amused. "You do not dare."
"No?" The safety clicked, disengaging. "You underestimate me."
Her eyes narrowed. "You know I haven't done anything to deserve this," she began.
He did not let her finish, let the gun interrupt her instead. A shot split the predawn quiet. "You did that to me before," he murmured as her chest blossomed with blood. "You will not do it again." And the gun continued its monologue uninterrupted.