Her harsh expression softened when he called her sweetheart. Did she like that? No, probably not. He reacted to her alias as she expected he would. [i]“So this day has gone from worst case scenario to living in the darkest depths of hell,”[/i] he growled, to which Trixy kissed her teeth, “Awe, don’t worry baby, the fates paired you with the devil’s favorite whore.” She said in a false sense of consolation; It was an unconventional way for a woman to describe herself, but Béatrix was a very unconventional kind of girl. She wore her sexuality with pride, and even ran a brothel or two over the years in France. Her girls were strong and proud, trading sex for secrets and money, shifting the power from the hands of men, to the women. But that was a conversation for another day.

He bragged about his grisly murderous past, and [i]he[/i] called [i]her[/i] a monster in the shadows? Ha! Then he shifted his tone, in an attempt at civility, and asked [i] “Any other names you go by, since your French name doesn’t quite like to come off my tongue?”[/i] So, he didn’t like the French. She wondered briefly if he was alive for the war, which would make him old enough to have been the wolf that killed Francis. Anger flashed in her crystal blue eyes before she spoke. “So I heard, Trixy might roll off of your tongue a bit better, Englishmen.” He then gave her his list of aliases, names she already knew. When you spend centuries hunting wolves, you get to know the big names. “I know who you are, I spent a few years trying to track you down. Looks like I finally found you.” Her arms were crossed defensively, but a smile touched her lips. The tingling in her wrist was annoying, so she uncrossed her arms to look at it, disgruntled. “I haven’t looked at it in years, I thought maybe I could avoid going through it again…” she said, voicing her thoughts aloud. She wondered, since he was so old, if he’d loved and lost as well, he must have… Her oceanic eyes met his once again “Can I see it?” she asked, holding her hand out to take his wrist. Maybe she would find relief in it, maybe it wouldn’t be her name written there, just some other Béatrix…