Who is Magpie?

Ezekiel had wanted to check on the girl he put in the cell all day, try to get more answers from her, but the pack house became overrun with worry when the word got out. They had to increase security, check everyone that went in and out the day before… he had to laugh that this small, strong woman had effectively turned their day on its head. Bronx had disappeared for a while, later seen coming up from the cells looking oddly humbled.

Ezekiel had moved to go talk to him but hadn’t gotten more than a few feet before someone was calling him in the other direction.

“Yes, what is it?” He asked Fiona, head of security, unable to keep his frustration under wraps.

She cleared her throat and stood straighter to match his energy. “We located her shoes, by accident really, it was the cleaners who…” she met his gaze and realized she was starting to ramble nervously and cleared her throat again. Turning she grabbed the damp trainers and presented them to him. “They were in the trash in the garage. She definitely entered the house through there but she doesn’t appear on a single camera outside, and even before the bit of rain earlier we couldn’t find her scent either.”

Ezekiel looked over the shoes he now held, noticing, like Bronx had her bag, that they were well worn. The soles had worn through the first layer, and even the laces, though newer than the rest of the shoe, were old enough to have lost the aglets at the end. He turned them over again wondering if he should bother giving them back at this point.

“They squeak.” Fiona said suddenly.

Ezekiel looked up from the shoes to her. “What?”

“I believe that’s why she took them off. With how worn they are they squeak on our smooth stone floors. I wouldn’t have personally chosen to have stocking feet for grip’s sake but we assume that was a move for stealth over mobility.”

Ezekiel agreed. “Good work.”

Fiona bowed and walked away, going back to check in with the others and then take her shift on patrol. Ezekiel walked to his office to deposit the shoes and then went to find Bronx. As his office door closed the silence immersed him, filling his body with a small amount of calm, no matter how temporary. He had avoided thinking too hard throughout the day, not sure where those thoughts would lead him while there was all the aftermath to deal with.

He, for being the one attacked, was much calmer than everyone else. The council was already on their way for a meeting, and trial, but Ezekiel wished it would just go away. Sure, there was the possibility of this being part of a larger attack or bigger plan, but at the moment that wasn’t his biggest concern.

One look outside and the sun beginning to set and he found himself longing for the day to start over. He sighed deeply and rubbed his face with his hands while sitting at his desk. Getting up again was difficult because he couldn’t shake this feeling that everything was going to get worse before it got better.

Leaving his office he heard a commotion by the front door. Moving towards it he saw his father, mother, and grandmother entering the pack house. Everyone was bowing to their previous Alpha and his family.

“Zeeky!” Ezekiel’s grandmother greeted, arms stretched wide to approach him. “My boy!” When she could get her arms around him she continued. “You look about how I thought you would look with all of this fuss about, sorry we took so long. My bladder you know, and your father is up in age, drives like an old man.”

“Hey.” His father, Tidas commented, walking over to them.

“For a day as long as I’m sure this one has been, I bet no one has brought you a coffee.” Grandmother Willow offered.

“I’m alright Gma, I’ve got a coffee somewhere.” Ezekiel replied, releasing the hug that did far more for his nerves than a coffee ever could.

Willow smiled. “Not one of mine, I’ll go make you one myself. Where’s the kitchen?.. ha ha, I’m kidding, lived here most of my life between your grandfather being Alpha and your father not trusting me on my own... Coming through, coming through, crazy old lady with a cane, on her way.” People separated and bowed to the older woman, grinning ear to ear.

Grandmother Willow was the type of person to carrying her purse everywhere, even while living in the pack house, and always have a toffee or sweet inside that she would dish out to anyone she thought needed it. Her cane tapped unevenly against the ground, though she did need it most of the time she also enjoyed using it as a gesturing tool, pointing to new decor around the house on her way to the kitchen.

“Son.” His father greeted, but his mother whipped in front, between them.

“Oh don’t you dare.” She said. “You know full well I have to pee, and once I lay down on that bed I’ll never get up again.” His pregnant mother, Talia, wrapped her arms so tightly around him he thought she could have done it twice. “While your father knows more of the pack house stuff, I know more about the other stuff you two spoke about. Come see me tomorrow after you’ve rested so a mother can feel useful?” She asked, whispering all of that in his ear.

Ezekiel nodded and she kissed his forehead. “Yes, mom, of course.”

“Good, good.” She sauntered off, still very much a woman who could turn heads but no one followed her path for fear of winding up on Tidas’ list..

His father rolled his eyes and as they greeted they clapped each other on the back of the neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I’m sure this day has been strenuous… Have you been…?”

“No.” Ezekiel returned, not wanting his father to finish because he knew it would alert a sort of sadness within him that he had been ignoring. “It has been a lot of calls and meetings today, on top of regular duties I have been, unfortunately, too busy.”

Willow returned with three mugs, not at all surprised when Talia was already gone, handing one to each of the men. “I’d like to come.” She spoke, as they both took a sip.

Bailey’s. While he was sure there was coffee in there because the drink warmed its way down his throat, Ezekiel was also pretty sure the drink was more alcohol than he would normally add. He felt a tickle under his nose from the unexpected smells, and his grandmother winked knowingly.

“While I know that you do, I also know you too well to believe that is a good idea.” His father grumbled, half like he believed that even with his mature age, that he would get in trouble with his mother.

She nodded knowingly. “I’ll watch from the surveillance room.” She walked away, off toward security knowing that no one would stop her.

She had a way of always getting what she wanted, even when she lived there. Before she had been seen as the sweet old lady, she had been seen as more of a tyrant, and, even now, both reputations preceded her.

Father and son both took another drink of the liquid too strong to be coffee and not strong enough to be intoxicating and smirked. “I’m glad you’re here.” Ezekiel returned with a look, a look only his father knew was panicked.

“When I heard what had happened, I couldn’t possibly stay away.” He returned.

Without saying anything else they took their cups and went towards the stairs, waiting as the guards moved out of the way. Descending the stairs slowly, and opening the door at the bottom, Ezekiel pointed in the direction of Magpie’s cell. They could see her for only a couple of moments, standing on her cot, before she leapt into the air, twisting quickly several times before landing on one knee with her fist slamming into her glass plate from brunch, shattering it into dust. When she landed her head flipped down, her bun finally falling out to release the long braid, and she flipped it with her head as she looked up.

A smile beamed across her face, more for herself than to the approaching spectators. “Nailed it! Superhero landing, yes!” She congratulated herself, standing up.