It was already past midnight, but Noctis knew his brother was still awake, most likely drowning in work as usual. It was important to Vincent not only that everything went according to plan, but also that casualties among their own men were kept to an absolute minimum.
As a result, Vincent was almost always awake at night. He stayed in constant contact with his men and monitored everything happening throughout the city. Of course, he occasionally took time off to unwind and have a little fun. However, he could only do that when Lucy or Moz took over his responsibilities.
In the current situation, though, Noctis knew that Vincent lived for his work alone and was doing everything in his power to ensure their goals were achieved. The clan's safety was his highest priority.
Even if he hadn't been working... the information Noctis possessed would definitely interest him. Besides, he urgently needed Vincent to heal him.
The blood loss was becoming increasingly noticeable. His head felt as though it were stuffed with cotton, and every step took more effort than the one before. He didn't feel like he was on the verge of death, but the throbbing pain in his shoulder made it difficult to think clearly.
And Isaac hid pain like this behind a cool, emotionless mask? How the hell did he manage that?
His foot caught on an uneven patch of ground. Noctis stumbled.
"Damn it, pull yourself together, Noctis!"
Moz's voice was sharper than usual.
"I just tripped," Noctis replied wearily. "Stop making such a big deal out of it."
Moz snorted disdainfully.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're ridiculously heavy?"
"You're the first one to complain. Maybe you should work out more."
Noctis grimaced.
Damn. Sweat was now pouring down his forehead and neck. And this was only a clean through-and-through gunshot wound. Moz had treated it immediately after picking him up.
Even so, every breath felt awful.
"And you should start acting according to the situation and be grateful I scraped you off the street."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll thank you later. You're my best friend, after all."
"I'm probably your only friend," Moz growled. He pulled Noctis a little closer to keep him from stumbling again. "Assuming we can even be called friends."
A tired smile crossed Noctis's face.
"Why are you laughing?" Moz asked, slightly out of breath.
"You're holding onto me like some damn girl."
"What?"
"Even Lucy has a firmer grip than you."
For a moment, there was silence.
"Asshole."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Moz responded with nothing more than another irritated grunt.
A short while later, they reached Vincent's office. Light spilled out from beneath the door.
Moz knocked twice.
No response.
He frowned and was about to knock again, but Noctis had already exhausted his patience. He pulled away from Moz, ignored the man's protest, and pressed down on the handle.
The door swung open.
"Vince, you need to heal me—"
The rest of the sentence died in his throat.
Far too many things happened at once in the span of a single second, and he immediately wished he could claw his damn eyes out. The first thing he heard was a low, breathy moan. His gaze snapped to the couch, where his half-naked brother was tangled up with that half-naked, damn cop. Of course he had to catch them making out today of all days.
So much for working.
Noctis stood frozen in place, staring at the scene.
Slowly, Vincent lifted his gaze.
A silence settled over the room—one that became very uncomfortable very quickly.
As soon as Vincent and the cop noticed him and Moz, they stopped immediately.
The cop looked at him as though he had just seen a ghost. Vincent, on the other hand, merely seemed surprised. There wasn't the slightest trace of shame or embarrassment on his face.
"Noctis, what the hell are you doing here already? You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow…"
Noctis rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"That couch is the first thing getting thrown out tomorrow. There is no way in hell I'm ever sitting on it again."
Ignoring everything else, Noctis dragged himself over to the desk, sat down on its surface, and tore the damn blood-soaked clothing from his upper body. The fabric had stuck firmly to his skin.
"Fuck…"
He grimaced as the sweater finally came free.
His gaze drifted to the cop, who was hurriedly buttoning up his shirt again. Vincent, meanwhile, seemed to be in no rush whatsoever. Calmly, he fastened the button of his trousers and straightened his clothes.
But no matter how composed he appeared, he was clearly irritated that Noctis had interrupted them. Noctis could have felt guilty about it, but right now he needed his brother's full attention. Besides, he couldn't have cared less what the cop thought of any of this.
Ideally, the man would leave immediately so Noctis wouldn't have to look at him any longer.
"Get out. You can go satisfy yourself at a brothel or something. My brother has far more important things to deal with right now," he hissed coldly.
The cop merely shot him an irritated look and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
He hated that damn cop more than anything else. If his brother hadn't been so infatuated with him, he would have been dead long ago. Noctis would never forget what he had done to Isaac.
Vincent approached him.
"He stays," he said firmly.
There was concern in his voice.
Vincent began removing the bandage.
"Moz, get something to clean the wound, suture material, and two bandages," he instructed without taking his eyes off Noctis's injury.
"Already on it."
Moz immediately left the office again.
The cop stepped closer and examined the wound.
"That's not something a few stitches are going to fix," the cop remarked dryly. "It looks pretty bad. Though I have to say, you more than deserved this injury."
Noctis's expression hardened instantly.
"Stay out of it," he hissed.
Ignoring the cop completely, he turned his attention back to his brother.
"Vince. I want you to heal me completely. Isaac can't find out about any of this."
For a fraction of a second, Vincent froze. His gaze flicked briefly to the man standing behind him before returning to Noctis.
"Can we maybe talk about that later?" he asked unusually quietly.
"No."
"Noctis—"
"Absolutely not."
He met Vincent's gaze without flinching.
"Heal me."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.
The cop stared at them in confusion.
"What do you mean, heal?"
Noctis shot him an annoyed look.
"Don't act so surprised. Who do you think put you back together after I turned you into minced meat?" he growled.
The cop looked confused at first, then realization slowly crept into his expression.
So you're sharp enough about everything else, but when it comes to things like this, your brain suddenly stops working?
What a damn idiot. To this day, Noctis still didn't understand how this dense cop had managed to make Isaac's life so difficult.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. Vincent had pressed his fingers into the wound far harder than necessary.
Noctis let out a pained groan.
"Shit!"
"Could you keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second?" Vincent snapped.
"No, I can't," Noctis panted through gritted teeth. "You just don't understand how important this is."
"How did you even get injured? You never get injured, damn it!"
Noctis glanced briefly at the cop before letting out a sigh.
Fuck it.
"Levi sent assassins after me."
Moz returned and handed Vincent a tray containing gauze pads, disinfectant, suturing supplies, and bandages.
"Levi? So that lunatic is finally making a move," Vincent muttered irritably as he cleaned the wound. "At least his assassins don't seem very competent if this is the only place they managed to hit you. That wound is a long way from killing you."
"What a lucky guy I am," Noctis snorted tiredly.
He cried out as Vincent disinfected the wound. In the next instant, his entire body jerked violently.
"FUCK!"
Vincent had poured disinfectant directly into the wound.
"Watch what you're doing!"
The protest was completely ignored.
Vincent continued working without pause.
"Ben? Does the name Levi mean anything to you?" Vincent asked, directing the question at the cop.
The cop seemed to think for a moment.
"His name has come up a few times. But he seems to be nothing more than a middleman. Why?"
"Because he's a lot more than you and your colleagues think," Vincent replied.
Noctis distracted himself from the pain by fixing the cop with a steady stare.
"Why would he send assassins after you?" the cop asked. "Did you annoy the wrong person?"
Noctis's eyes narrowed.
"Because he wants Isaac," he hissed. "So save the stupid comments and listen."
"Why would he want Isaac?" the cop asked, genuinely puzzled—though not without interest.
Vincent noticed the look in his eyes and suddenly seemed thoroughly irritated.
"Because he can do things no one else can," Noctis snorted. "Just like my brother can heal people and I can create illusions."
His gaze darkened.
"I'm sure you remember."
The cop suddenly went pale.
"Isaac can do things that have far more than one use in the underworld."
Vincent pressed his lips together in irritation. He looked at the cop with a cold stare that sent an uncomfortable chill even through Noctis.
"I probably don't need to tell you that this information is strictly confidential, do I, handsome?" he said coolly. "If you betray us, I will personally kill you."
The cop looked at him for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh.
"No one would believe this shit anyway," he snorted. "Besides, I don't even want to imagine what would happen in Magnolia if your abilities became public knowledge."
Vincent rubbed a hand across his face wearily.
"Imagine the current situation being about three times worse, because I'll eliminate anyone who reaches for my clan."
"Relax... the information is interesting, sure, but there are other things I'm more interested in," the cop replied. A small smile appeared on his lips. "Maybe you'd rather tell me something I can actually use."
Vincent laughed.
"You'll get exactly the information you need so I have less work to do. But who knows? If you put in a little effort later, I might give you something extra as a bonus."
Noctis made a sound as though he were about to be physically sick.
"Save that for a moment when I'm not here. I've seen enough already," he grumbled. "Damn it, those images are going to haunt me for a long time."
The cop cleared his throat awkwardly.
"So? What can Isaac do that's so special people are sending assassins after him?"
"Watch your wording," Noctis hissed irritably. "He can enchant objects that he's made himself."
Noctis could practically see the cop's thoughts racing. A satisfied grin spread across his face. No matter what this idiot was imagining, he would never grasp the true extent of Isaac's potential.
"W-wait a second," the cop stammered. "What exactly do you mean?"
Noctis was beginning to enjoy himself.
"Imagine a way for him to break into a museum completely unnoticed and escape again without being seen."
"A way to..." the cop began, thinking it over. But he couldn't seem to figure it out.
"Portals," Vincent answered. "The ink monsters."
"...You're messing with me," he replied in disbelief.
"What do you think made all those heists possible?" Noctis snorted. "Enough of that. We need a plan to protect him."
"Enough."
Vincent set the medical supplies aside and leaned against the desk.
"Vince. You didn't heal me."
His brother shot him an annoyed look.
"It'll heal on its own."
Noctis jumped down from the edge of the desk.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
The moment both feet touched the ground, darkness flooded his vision. His balance vanished instantly, and before he could hit the floor, Vincent grabbed his arm and held him upright.
"Isaac can't see me injured. Try to understand that," he muttered irritably.
"Why is that so important?" Vincent scoffed. "I'm pretty sure he'd be more than happy to take care of you for the next few days."
"As much as I'd enjoy that, no," Noctis replied. "He gave me a talisman this morning that was supposed to protect me, and today of all days—after years of not getting so much as a scratch—I get shot?!"
He grabbed his brother's arm.
"I can't do that to him!"
"What kind of talisman?" Vincent asked, puzzled.
Noctis raised the arm to which Isaac had tied the talisman.
"Are you blind? Right here on my wrist—"
He stopped.
The bracelet was gone.
"…Wait a second. It was a bracelet. Where the hell did it go?"
He looked around, bent down to search through his clothes, but it was nowhere to be found.
"You haven't been wearing a bracelet this whole time," Vincent said. His voice was so calm that it sent a chill down Noctis's spine. "Do you happen to know how he enchanted it?"
"He said it was some kind of shield that would protect me from serious harm once if—" Noctis began, bewildered.
He hadn't even noticed the talisman was gone.
And that despite finally receiving one.
Then several pieces suddenly fell into place.
He had been fighting professionals. The man who had shot him had taken his aim with complete confidence. It dawned on Noctis that he had only survived because of the talisman.
"Holy shit…" he muttered, stress creeping into his voice.
Isaac would definitely notice the missing talisman.
"Sit down, Noctis. I'll heal you," Vincent said at last. "We need to rethink this and come up with a different plan."
He turned to Moz.
"Moz, what's the current situation? Has everyone checked in as planned?"
Moz nodded. He was sitting in the desk chair with a laptop open in front of him.
"Everyone has checked in as usual."
Noctis sat down on the edge of the desk while Vincent placed a hand on his shoulder, a pleasant warmth spreading through him.
"Tell everyone to return after completing their next successful mission objective," Vincent ordered. His black eyes turned to Noctis. "How many assassins were there?"
"Two."
"Good. Then from now on, we'll operate in pairs as well," Vincent replied.
"Vince, we have to protect Isaac. He must not find out that they were Levi's men, okay?"
Even as he said it, the thought made him feel sick. He didn't want to lie to Isaac, but at the same time he couldn't imagine any scenario in which Isaac would take the connection between his injury and Levi well.
Vincent nodded. His black eyes shifted to the cop. Any trace of humor vanished from his face instantly.
"I don't want to risk him doing something stupid," he said. His black eyes fixed on the cop. "That goes for you too. Not a word of this to Isaac. I didn't spend all these years working to get him back, only to lose him to that damn asshole now!"
The cop looked as though he wasn't entirely sure what to make of the conversation. Concern appeared in his eyes, and eventually he sighed.
"Isaac and I aren't exactly on good terms right now, but I don't want anything to happen to him."
"As long as you keep your hands to yourself," Noctis muttered irritably.
He spoke quietly enough that the cop didn't hear him. His brother, however, shot him a warning look, telling him not to make things any worse. Noctis held his gaze for a moment before finally snorting in annoyance. He didn't say anything else.
Vincent studied him for another moment before turning back to the cop.
"Can you help us keep an eye on Levi? The little shit is bound to pull something soon that could end very badly."
The cop raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Our deal was that I'd help take down the Boss," he said. "As far as that matter is concerned, I don't owe you anything anymore."
"That may be true," Vincent replied. "But from our conversation earlier, I got the impression that you're not happy with the current situation either. We both want to clean the filth off the streets, so why shouldn't we keep working together? I think our partnership is going pretty well."
The cop rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.
"As long as I stay in a passive role, I can keep my ears open. I've got more than enough on my plate already."
Vincent grinned at him. "And yet I like it when you're a little more active."
The cop flushed red. "This is hardly the right time for jokes like that!"
But Vincent merely smirked.
Noctis snorted.
"Get a room and stop flirting right in front of me. It's disgusting."
All eyes turned toward him.
"As if you don't do the exact same thing with Isaac all the time," Vincent shot back.
"When I flirt with Isaac, I don't have the two of you in my head at the same time!" Noctis snapped irritably.
Vincent shrugged.
"Let's get back to the actual topic," he said at last. "No one goes out alone anymore. Every mission will be carried out in pairs."
"You do realize it'll take us forever to work through those lists that way, right?" Noctis scoffed. "Most of our people won't even be available anymore. Besides, they're planning to tear us apart completely."
Vincent looked at him in surprise.
"They want to destroy us, Vincent. Wipe out the entire Webster Clan," Noctis replied as he remembered what he had seen in the second shooter's mind.
Moz slowly lifted his head from the screen. Even the cop suddenly seemed much more attentive. Vincent studied Noctis for a moment.
"Where did that information come from?"
"I had a little time to spare before Moz finally got his ass to my coordinates," Noctis grumbled.
He had seen far too much inside the shooter's mind. Things he would rather never have seen at all. More than anything, he wanted to grab Isaac and leave immediately—far away from all of this.
"Levi wants Isaac, and he'll do whatever it takes to get him."
Vincent nodded slowly.
"Does he know about our hideout?"
"At least that guy didn't."
"How many are there?"
"According to the information he had, six," Noctis replied. "So Levi definitely gave everyone different information."
Vincent fell silent for a moment, thinking.
Then a cold smile appeared on Vincent's face.
"It's not a bad strategy, actually. Levi almost certainly knows nothing about your abilities, so he took precautions to make sure not too much information could be extracted through torture," Vincent reasoned. A cold smile played on his lips. "Good. Levi wants to play? Then we'll play."
"Maybe we should relocate our hideout," Moz suggested. "Even if that one killer didn't know anything, others might know where we're hiding."
Noctis looked at him in surprise. That was actually a good suggestion for once. Vincent, on the other hand, seemed to consider it for a moment before finally nodding.
"We'll move those who can't defend themselves to our safe locations outside the city. I'll call in additional killers from the other cities."
Noctis nodded.
"What about this hideout? We should probably move it too."
"You actually agree with Moz?" Vincent asked in astonishment. "The planets must be perfectly aligned today."
Noctis snorted in annoyance.
"I just want Isaac to be safe."
"I could try to place him in one of our safe houses," the cop offered.
Noctis hated the idea immediately.
He shot Benedict a look that could hardly have been more lethal.
"There's no way I'm leaving him in your care."
"I'm against that too. No offense, handsome, but I don't hand over people who belong to me to the cops," Vincent said firmly. "The safety of my people is my responsibility, no one else's."
The cop let out a slow breath.
"I'm only trying to help, okay?"
"Then suggest something that doesn't end with a former master thief being guarded by police officers," Noctis scoffed.
Vincent removed his hand from Noctis's shoulder.
Relieved, Noctis rolled his shoulder and stretched. The wound still hadn't healed completely, but at least it no longer hurt as badly. The rest of the healing was simply a matter of time.
"We're moving the hideout," Vincent said at last. He looked around the room. "We'll use Rising Sun."
At least Vincent was still using code names in front of the cop. Noctis and Moz nodded.
"I'll inform the others tomorrow morning. We'll move the hideout in two days. The missions will proceed as planned in pairs, and I'll request reinforcements. I'll fill you in on the rest once I've worked everything out," Vincent said at last. He looked at each of them intently. "The reason for all of this is confidential. Understood?"
Noctis rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion.
"What am I supposed to tell Isaac?"
"That we're relocating our base as part of a routine procedure."
"I'm not going to lie to him again, Vince."
"You're not lying to him. You're just not telling him everything."
"That's the same thing," Noctis scoffed.
"At least wait until I've come up with something," Vincent replied. "Now get out of here. I'd like to relax a little tonight before all hell breaks loose."
As he said this, he fixed the cop with an intense stare.
"You and I still have something important to discuss."
"Shouldn't you be dealing with these matters instead?" the cop asked uncertainly.
Vincent shook his head.
"Absolutely not."
Noctis had had enough.
Damn it, how was he supposed to tell Isaac any of this?
If Isaac learned the whole truth, Noctis had no idea how he would react.
If he kept the most important details from him, Isaac might finally turn away from him for good.
His mind was in chaos, and the events of the evening were beginning to take their toll. He was just about to get up when he heard loud, hurried footsteps in the hallway. Before whoever it was reached the door, he heard Moz mutter a quiet, "Finally..."
Noctis turned toward the damn idiot in shock.
He didn't actually do that...!
He hadn't even finished the thought when the door swung open and Isaac stood there, breathless.
He was still wearing a pair of tight jeans, a dark shirt, and a loose cardigan that looked suspiciously like the one Noctis often wore on his days off.
As much as the sight of Isaac wearing his clothes pleased him, Isaac's very presence sent an icy chill down his spine.
Isaac's gaze immediately found Noctis's. His eyes widened in shock as they moved to his shoulder, then to the bloodstained clothes on the floor and the bloody bandages. Finally, his gaze settled on Noctis's bare wrist.
The very place where he had tied the talisman that morning.
Isaac pressed his lips together.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
Noctis couldn't get a single word out.
"Deal with your problem and let me have one peaceful night, okay?" Vincent muttered softly beside him before turning to Isaac. "He was shot."
Isaac looked as though he might be sick.
A moment later, he crossed the room on unsteady legs and wrapped his arms around Noctis.
Noctis let out a quiet sigh and pulled Isaac closer against him.
At least this way, he didn't have to figure out how to tell Isaac about the gunshot wound.