The day after the showcase, Sin Rouge had returned to its usual rhythm
weapons training in the lower hall, Quill swearing at wires, Donnie sorting financial reports, Rafe bribing someone with cinnamon sticks, Dreg lifting furniture for absolutely no reason, and Liza being… Liza.
Everything normal.
Almost.
Malerion felt something the moment he stepped out of his private room.
A faint ripple.
Not danger or hostility.
Just… attention.
That strange, feather-light pressure of someone trying to sense him without knowing what they were reaching for.
He paused at the top of the stairs.
Alastor's voice drifted through his mind, amused:
"Someone's tugging at your shadow again."
Malerion didn't respond immediately.
He simply closed his eyes
And let his Rings resonate just a little, listening to the emotional background of the district.
Noise.
Lust.
Greed.
Excitement.
Stress.
All normal.
But threaded through that tapestry was something new:
Bright.
Hot.
Sharp around the edges.
And impatient.
It felt like someone tapping a glass window over and over, hoping to hear an echo back.
Malerion opened his eyes.
So, he murmured, she's looking for me.
Alastor chuckled.
"Persistence is admirable.
Dangerous, but admirable."
Malerion descended the stairs, and as he passed through the main hall, the ripple brushed him again
stronger this time, like a curious fingertip trying to push into his presence.
He recognized the emotional signature immediately.
Not by magic.
But by the slight imperfection in its intensity.
Verosika Mayday was talented, confident, stubborn
but subtle?
Not yet.
Her curiosity was loud.
It carried an edge, like a hungry dancer reaching for a spotlight.
Rafe, sitting at the table, glanced at him when Malerion paused mid-step.
"You okay, boss?"
Malerion nodded once.
Someone is trying to feel for me.
Rafe straightened.
"Enemy?"
No.
A pause singer.
Rafe blinked, then groaned.
"Oh, her again?"
Malerion raised an eyebrow.
You knew?
Rafe scratched his head awkwardly.
"Well… I didn't know. But Liza said she left the club last night with this weird expression.
The kind she gets when she wants something."
Alastor laughed in Malerion's mind.
"A predictable creature, that one."
The ripple returned a third time
more deliberate, more focused, as if Verosika had decided to try harder.
Malerion exhaled through his nose.
She's stubborn.
Rafe nodded slowly.
"Boss… should I discourage her? Not aggressively, just… gently. Like 'this trail's cold, sweetheart, move along' kind of gently?"
No, Malerion said quietly.
Rafe blinked.
"No? Are you sure? She's persistent enough to cause trouble."
Curiosity isn't trouble,
Malerion replied.
Not yet.
He leaned against the railing, watching the slum lights outside flicker in the afternoon haze.
She's looking for a puzzle she doesn't understand. That's all. Eventually she'll hit the wall and stop.
A beat.
Alastor whispered:
"Or she'll hit the wall harder."
Malerion sighed.
Also possible.
Rafe squinted at him.
"So what do we do?"
We do nothing, Malerion said.
stay silent. Let her look. Let her wonder. As long as she doesn't get too close, it's harmless."
Rafe folded his arms.
"And if she does get close?"
Malerion's eyes hardened slightly, the Fourth Ring humming in his chest like distant thunder.
She won't, he said.
doesn't know what she's searching for.
He pushed away from the railing and walked toward the strategy room, the ripple fading as he moved deeper into Sin Rouge's territory
as if his own aura swallowed it.
But just before the ripple vanished entirely, there was one last flicker
small, sharp, emotional.
Not curiosity, confusion.
Frustration.
She had tried again.
And failed.
Alastor whispered:
"You interest her."
Malerion replied, just as low:
I don't want to.
"Too late," the old demon chuckled.
But Malerion said nothing.
Because he already knew:
Curiosity was harmless…
…until it turned into obsession.