Nicholas Vials: The Case Of Michael Vials

The air outside was crisp. Emberline inhaled deeply, as if she could breathe away the grime of the cell. Nicholas walked beside her, his self-satisfied silence more irritating than words.

They didn’t speak until they reached the corner of the cobbled street, where voices clashed in a chaotic symphony. Police patrolled the area, their presence a reminder to the wary, old and young alike.

A salesman appeared out of nowhere, tugging them toward his wares like a gardener plucking flowers from a patch. His eager chatter was lost on Emberline, who excused herself curtly to keep moving. Nicholas, leaning lazily against a wooden post, observed her with a look that straddled amusement and curiosity.

"Out with it," Emberline snapped, her patience threadbare. "What do you want?"

Nicholas raised a brow, feigning innocence. "Are you talking to me?"

Her glare was answer enough.

He smirked, tilting his head. "Let’s not pretend we don’t know how this works. You do me a favor, I pay it back. Now you owe me. That’s how the world spins."

"I don’t owe you anything," Emberline said evenly, stepping closer. Her voice was firm. "You made a choice to get me out, but don’t confuse that with leverage."

Nicholas laughed lightly, the sound grating against her nerves. "You’ve got grit. But don’t be so quick to dismiss me. You might find my influence useful in the days ahead."

"What does that mean?" she demanded sharply, narrowing her eyes.

"It means, my dear," he said, his tone dropping, "your little altercation at the tavern didn’t go unnoticed. You’ve stirred up more trouble than you realize. And while I’ve got no problem letting you fend for yourself..." He let the sentence trail off, his eyes darkening.

"What is it?" Emberline pressed, her anticipation rising. "What trouble are you talking about?"

Nicholas leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. "Sergeant Rourke doesn’t take kindly to insults. He won’t stop at that."

Emberline’s stomach turned, but she kept her face impassive. "If he wanted revenge, he wouldn’t have let me go."

Nicholas smiled. "He allowed it because it was beyond his control. You struck a nerve, especially with me coming to your aid." His voice was softer now, free of the slurring she’d grown used to. "But these things take time, don’t they? Plans must be made. Allies gathered. You’ve made an impression, Emberline, and not the good kind."

She crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "So that’s why you helped me. You’re hoping to use me to settle some feud of your own, aren’t you?"

Nicholas didn’t deny it. "You’ve got foes, and I’ve got opportunities."

Emberline’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at him. She despised the idea of owing Nicholas anything, but the truth of his words lingered uneasily in her mind.

"I’ll handle it," she said finally. "And I won’t need you to do it."

Nicholas shrugged, his smirk unshaken. "I’m afraid you won’t be able to."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" A flicker of uncertainty passed through her.

He paused, the faintest flicker of something unspoken in his expression. "You’re an expert, all right—just not one I’d trust with my wounds."

Without another word, he turned and walked off into the night, his boots echoing faintly against the cobblestones. Emberline remained rooted to the spot, her thoughts racing.

She didn’t need his help. She’d fought off men far scarier than Nicholas. But it wasn’t the looming threat of danger that left her lightheaded. Even in the noisy streets, the sound of his boots clicking against the stone as he walked away made her heart skip.

---

She sat stiffly in the plush armchair, her fingers interlaced and resting on her lap, her face shadowed with unease. The warmth of the room did little to lighten the weight of her thoughts.

Elena leaned forward on the edge of the chair across from her, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. Her sharp eyes lingered on Emberline’s face, reading the tension etched there.

"You’ve been quiet ever since you arrived," Elena remarked, breaking the silence. "You don’t usually brood. What’s wrong?"

Emberline blinked, startled from her thoughts, and turned her gaze to Elena. For a moment, she hesitated, the words forming on her lips before she pressed them back.

"It’s nothing," she said finally, forcing a faint smile. "I’ve just had... a long day."

Elena arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. "A long day? Emberline, you look like you’ve been wrestling ghouls. What happened?"

Emberline shrugged, keeping her expression carefully neutral. "The usual. A bit of trouble at Mrs. Marshall’s house."

Elena leaned back, watching her closely. "Ah, I forgot you had to see her today. All that woman does is complain about her back. You’re never in good spirits after those visits."

"It’s not her fault," Emberline quipped, though her mind was elsewhere.

"Did you get into a fight with someone?" Elena asked eagerly.

"Briefly," Emberline admitted, brushing it aside.

Elena’s disappointment was evident. "Nothing worth recounting, then?"

"Not really," Emberline replied lightly, though her thoughts lingered on Nicholas—his smirk, his cryptic words, the way he unsettled her without trying.

Elena studied her for a moment longer, then sighed. "If you say so. But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever’s bothering you."

Emberline nodded absently, her gaze drifting to the window. "I know."

Emberline clenched her fists, her heart hammering against her chest in the shallow silence of the night. For now, she’d keep him to herself. Some things were better left unspoken.