Pray that Hell or Heaven Lets You In

Oh, the full name had been drawn out. Clearly, he meant business. Katherine worked very hard to keep from rolling her eyes. It wasn't her fault that he had shown up to ruin everything. Nor was it her fault that she didn't know about his financial success or whatever else. And at that point she wasn't afraid of saying so.

"If you're insinuating what that smirk suggests, know two things," she replied before knocking back the rest of her drink. Leveling her gaze on his again, she set the glass down on the nearest table when they started towards the stairs. "First, I'm sure it amazes you to know that not all of the single women in our circle keep up with your life, but I hardly cared enough to pay attention. So to expect otherwise is too conceited, even for you."

Her hands folded themselves over her stomach as they ascended. "And second, if you were suggesting what I'm quite convinced you were, perhaps you need to keep in mind that only one of us has an actual mission in being here. So I may look and act like a play thing in there, but that doesn't apply to you. Any piece of you that touches me in there without my permission will be removed."

And so she drew her wand at the top of the stairs, charming her makeup and hair once more just to be sure, a bit of a dark flowery scent floating down across her neck, and then pushed the door open. On her face, she plastered a look that was somewhere near innocence, but blatantly hinted at something else lingering behind it.

"Oh, Drew," she sighed apologetically. "I'm so sorry I'm late. And here you said I could watch. Merlin."

Katherine shook her head, turning towards the other men around the table. Ah, there was Romanyk's guy. "I got a bit lost. Only, I ran into this man downstairs who said he'd been at the games before and he showed me where to go. Please, don't mind me!"

Romanyk's man chuckled, shaking his head at her. The others looked either amused as well, or just bored by her appearance. Drew must have done this sort of thing often. Whether or not they suspected anything was beyond her.

Still, as soon as she finished speaking, and once Caleb had settled in, she unzipped her jacket the rest of the way and shrugged it off, shaking out her curls a little as she did so. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of the men watching her. And he was the closest to her besides Caleb. Perfect.

Walking over, she trailed her had along the back of the man's chair before letting it fall to his shoulder. "I've actually never played before." Kit leaned forward to peer over his shoulder. "Would you show me how?"

Another man rolled his eyes, and she determined that she was wise to have chosen someone else. That man probably needed the money, while the one in front of her looked at ease. Then again, he was currently winning, wasn't he? So her chosen bloke smiled in a rather slimy way and nodded, pulling a chair up next to his. Katherine sank into it and crossed one leg over the other to help her lean more comfortably towards him as she peeked at his cards.

It wasn't until he leaned towards her to tell her that the other poor sods were doomed that she laughed, glancing towards Drew. That was when she caught the look of concern on his face. Her pulse thumped and she let her eyes linger on Caleb for a moment, wondering if she had actually made a mistake in her choice. Romanyk should have warned her if they were the dangerous types. But then again, she had her wand, too. She just needed the opportunity to retrieve it from her boot.

A casual smile pulled at her lips as she drew her attention away from Flint, and only felt a genuine chill of warning when the stranger's arm fell around her shoulders and he leaned in to tell her how the river and the flop worked. She immediately wanted whoever this man was to lose, and so she merely decided to up her game. If nothing else, she had three people in this room that would probably prevent anything from happening.

He could have pointed out that practically every single woman in pureblood circles did in fact keep tabs on him. It wasn't even an ego thing - even if it had the pleasant side effect of tickling his vanity. No, it was just the way their society worked. Even someone like Camila, who had little pressure to marry and seemingly no interest in the idea, still kept tabs on all of the pureblood bachelors. It was their job, given to them at the tender age of puberty. Retirement came with marriage, but the moment they had daughters of their own, they had to begin the prep work to keep tabs on a whole new generation.

He imagined it was exhausting. But probably fun for some. He did what he could to make it fun.

Point being, it was Kit's job to keep up with the eligible bachelors. And the fact that he remained unmarried on his own volition, rather than any defect, made him a prime target in the eyes of many.

But this new Kit was all about surprises. So he suspected she had to keep up the routine.

Speaking of routine, he couldn't bear to break her Big Bad Wolf act. He could ruin her ploy in a second, certainly without much punishment from the only newly-recovered blonde, leaving her at his mercy. Had she forgotten that? Or was she trying to assert some level of control.

So, before the door opened, he whispered, "Certainly, Katherine."

Leave her with that little reminder.

He shuffled in behind her, paying her no mind as he reached across the table to shake hands with the few he knew. "Johnson. Trevor. Oh, no, Oggie's here. I can feel my wallet shrinking."

Kit's performance elicited an eye roll from Trevor and he caught the man's eye, giving a sympathetic eye roll with a bit of surrendered amusement behind it. He didn't mind helping the blonde for now. He could see where having her owe him a favor might prove entertaining.

Caleb bought his chips, took his cards, and felt the tug of the businessman, the thrill of the profit stir in him. He could afford to lose some money, sure, but he sure couldn't ignore his instincts to dominate. Still, he was reminded of his true mission when he felt Kit's eyes reach out to him. Without breaking stride, still reshuffling his own cards, a tick he would control to mislead the other plays, and said in a light hearted tone, "Now, Brent, make sure you teach her the actual rules, not the one's you invent so you can cheat us out of our money." The comment elicited a chuckle out of his companions, even causing Trevor to grumble something about Brent still owing him for last time. "She seems a nice enough lady. Wouldn't want to corrupt her honest intentions."

Katherine wasn't afraid of magic anymore. In fact, she felt stronger and more confident in it than she had before. She was certainly no prodigy and would never be considered one, but she could do it when she wanted to, now, without fear of hospital or having to hide. A genetic illness was one thing, but it did nothing to combat a curse.

And, oh Merlin, was she cursed.

Not just in the literal sense, but with the miserable sod that is Caleb Flint. If he wasn't so bloody open about everything he thought, he would take her insults as they were intended. Not literal, just biting. A poor choice in partner if she'd ever found one. Not that it was her fault, of course. This was entirely because of Romanyk and his horrible awful timing.

And Flint's, obviously, for existing and taking up her air.

But she smiled good-naturedly at Caleb despite the desire to hex him.

So she leaned towards the man - Brent, apparently - and watched as the dealer laid out cards for them. She almost couldn't resist commenting, but it seemed wiser for her to keep her mouth shut as far as Caleb was concerned. At least for now. Soon enough she would know something he didn't without having to lie about it, and then she would feel vastly more justified.

Instead, she offered her fake name to Brent and listened to him explaining the game for a hand or two before she imposed a bit. Tilting her head back so she could offer a suggestion into his ear, Kit reached slowly down towards the shoe that hid her wand. A little confundus, she teased, might ensure him a larger pot at the end of the game. She expected him to shake it off, as he really should've done, but he laughed.

"If you manage that without getting caught, maybe I'll share it with you," he muttered back under his breath, acting like she had completely mixed up the rules with vague gestures and a shake of his head.

Katherine nodded as if she now understood. But Brent was really quite right. He would definitely be sharing more with her than he anticipated. Not that she really trusted that he would give her anything, anyway.

But then his tone changed, the words in her ear a sharp warning. "You get caught and money will be the least of your worries."

Katherine wasn't worried about being caught. Andrew wouldn't let that happen. And Caleb probably wasn't interested in the trouble it would cause. Besides, the only people besides Brent who could see her doing it were those two, so what would they do, really?

So she slipped her wand hand beneath the table, aiming towards the one directly across from them. Whoever he was, he was about to make a grand mistake. Kit leaned back, requesting a drink, if Romanyk had one. She had purposefully left hers downstairs, after all. And it gave her a chance to try and peer at Caleb's cards as he looked at them. Hm. Perhaps their first victim would go all in on a hand he couldn't win. Wouldn't that be lucky for Brent, here?

Not to mention for her.

Caleb didn't know what Kit wanted, and that was what interested him so much, made him commit to this bit. Caleb was a good poker player because he knew people, and he knew every person wanted something. He was a good businessman, because he was pretty skilled at figuring out what that thing was. It wasn't hard really. It was typically money, power, or sex, and if it wasn't the Golden Trio, it was typically something specific enough to the person that it didn't take Caleb long to pinpoint it. If he didn't have those instincts, he wouldn't have gotten as far as he had.

Honestly, he and Camila had always had a natural instinct for unnerving people with their ability to read them, while remaining fairly unreadable themselves. Camila preferred to remain almost completely shrouded in mystery, whereas Caleb had allowed the carefree, trust fund playboy persona to carry him into the good graces of those with money and power, without rousing any suspicion in them that he might be serious competition.

Oh, and he was.

But regardless of the fact that he could not see Kit's motive, he somehow did want to see her successful in it. Mostly because then it would clear to him what it was, but also because he couldn't help but encourage her in this. He had been so bored lately, and if she had decided to throw a wrench into what was supposed to be a simple favor for Mesut, he could get on board. He jumped into the game, making his bet regardless of his cards - poker usually required a few hits to start so one could figure out the tells of the men that would be paying up. Besides, he could afford to lose some money. Tonight wasn't about money.

It was about knowledge.

As the bets were made, Brent looked as casual and confident as ever. Katherine didn't know why it unnerved her, but she didn't appreciate the fact that he was a good actor. It wouldn't matter in the end, if she managed what Andrew wanted. She and Caleb would walk out with what she'd come in for. Not that he needed it. But she likely would, soon, and was not going to miss her chance.

She kept her wand where Brent could see it, so that she could lean towards him and pretend to whisper something disgustingly charming when she really cast a Confundus charm instead. The man opposite Caleb lifted a hand to casually scratch at his head, but when he lifted up his cards again to peek at them. It seemed like he had made a decision about something, but Kit wasn't sure until the men checked and he took far more of his stack than was reasonable and shoved it towards the middle.

Merlin help her, but she had started something that would either end perfectly, or horribly.

Her eyebrows lifted when Brent feigned shock as well, and she looked around the room as though trying to gauge whether this was good or bad. She located Romanyk, who was clearly in range to have caught her charmwork, and he acted like he hadn't even noticed. He was seemingly perusing the pieces that had been brought in for the high-stakes game, with one hand over his stomach like he was thinking about grabbing a bite to eat soon. But then her gaze found Caleb and stayed there for a few moments, trying to see if he'd figured it out.

And then her free hand brushed her hair over her shoulder and she leaned towards Brent again, interested to see what the other men would do. Brent, she was certain, wouldn't be folding.

Caleb had to throw in his watch, made from real silver and interlaid with some of the finest goblin gold one could acquire - basically, it was totally replaceable to him. At worst, he knew each of the men here, or knew how to find them, and could get it back, though he suspected he would manage to slip it away if he needed to. Especially if they were successful, he couldn't see his watch remaining as a casualty of their war.

Speaking of, he was finding Kit's involvement in this whole process curious. Romanyk had always been a bit of a sleazy guy, and Caleb wouldn't have put cheating past him. Caleb couldn't figure out why he was relying on a young girl to do his dirty work, when he was more than capable of arranging it. Especially with someone so new to the game - though, it was likely Kit had not let on that just six months ago, she had been a wide-eyed moonbeam of a thing. Then Caleb realized the answer was in his question.

It was exactly the whole 'young woman' thing that drew Romanyk to Katherine, wasn't it?

Perhaps it was because of Mesut's command, or because (despite the reports) he was a gentleman at his core, but that somehow made him more intent on ensuring Katherine didn't get in too deep. While it might add some fun, and would certainly reduce her suddenly inflated ego, the real trouble wasn't the men around the table, but the lust within their bellies.

He hadn't been in on the plan, but it was becoming exceedingly clear now. He didn't look at Katherine to inform her that he was in on the plan. Instead, he fumbled as he exchanged cards, flashing one of his cards to the table on accident. "Whoops," he said good-naturedly, grinning shyly. "Where's my head today?"

If he could normalize their group-clumsiness, maybe they wouldn't dig into it.

Twenty-four hours. Five minutes. One drink.

Most people probably measured time in years, months, weeks. Katherine wasn't able to do that today. No, she was counting up the smaller things that led to her apparent meeting with Caleb Flint in Satan's. He had more or less rescued her when the poker game started to turn sour and Brent started to suspect her ulterior motives. And that had been frustrating.

So she had helped stage the attack for Ellorie, with that relatively frustrating ending. Oh well. No specific instructions had been given besides 'an attack on a pureblood party.' Easy enough. But the aurors and those damned hawks were too much. She didn't really want any of them to die when they were apparently willing to do a lot for money and rare pieces of art. It was like she'd told Caleb: She needed the game to go well.

So perhaps he finally understood, once he saw her reaction to the fighting. He hadn't taken her warning seriously, of course, at the beginning of the party. But then, she had not really given him a reason to until that night.

Caleb surely knew better by now.

Sitting there, Katherine felt even more assured than she had the night before. Not quite as pretty, but that wasn't relevant this time. At a ball, she was expected to be the picture of a pureblood daughter. Here, she could still go for a casually revealing top and black jeans. Red and silky for the shirt, of course, to mirror the same colors she had worn at the party. As if he didn't realize she was going to mention it.

So she relaxed against the corner of the bar, waiting for her second drink. And, of course, for Caleb.

CRACK!

Camila and Caleb appeared in the middle of Camila's apartment, and the girl stepped away from her brother, her brows pulled together in deep confusion, an expression of betrayal withheld only because of the trust she had in her twin. Caleb was heading for the kitchen, and she knew without knowing that he was looking for a glasses to pour some drinks.

"What the hell, Caleb?" Her voice was steady, casual despite the context. Caleb was avoiding her gaze, something not lost on the perceptive diplomat and she cleared her throat, crossing her arms. Caleb set aside a glass for her and then lifted his glass, swirling the liquid inside and cocking his head. "It's sort of your job to defend those people. The people we've known our whole life."

Caleb lifted the glass to his lips. "You saw - no one was aiming to kill."

"That makes it less dangerous. Caleb, why did we leave."

Caleb finally met his sister's eyes, rolling his lips inwardly before running a tongue over his teeth and sighing, setting the glass down. "I'm not sure yet. But you'll have to trust me."

Caleb was once again in the position of guessing what Katherine Avery was up to, incapable of discovering exactly what she was after but now assured of her potential in acquiring it. Though he still didn't know how deep her involvement was, she had been very intentional in revealing her knowledge of the attack. She wanted him to know what she was capable of. And now that she had shown him, he couldn't help but think...

What next?

And where did he fit in?

He apparated into Knockturn, dressed well but with the design of fitting into the crowd, and he slipped the bouncer of Satan's some galleons to skip the line.

The dance floor was crammed full of writhing people, a couple here and there peeling away to purchase a room upstairs. The D.J. was working hard, the dancers moving throughout the room with trays of drinks. And at the bar was a steady stream of people approaching to fetch drinks. No one was sitting, preferring the excuse to pull their partners for the night close to them on the dance floor, except for one point of light at the end of the bar, a flash of red and blonde against the darks of the room.

He sat down next to her and called to the bartender for a Scotch, before quickly casting a muffiato charm around them. "A bit of a different sort of dance, I'll admit, but a good place to confess your sins." He thanked the bartender and accepted the drink, lifting it to its lips as he finally turned to look at Katherine, lifting an eyebrow.

Although Katherine eyed him as he approached and sat down beside her, she made no move to greet him. He knew full well she was paying attention, and the last time they had been to a place resembling this one, she had said just enough to allow Caleb to use it against her. The Freya incident was long past, now.

So she waited as he ordered a drink, set up a bit of protection for them and then turned towards her. The look he received after his lead in was one the he would perhaps remember for quite some time. Some level of disdain was there, but behind it was a touch of curiosity. As her eyes narrowed just a bit, and just for a moment, she wondered if he knew that she wanted to ask what, exactly, he might confess to if forced. But mainly, he needed to know that none of this would come easy after he had so efficiently torn her down.

Did he remember how much pleasure she had once taken from little things like seeing her brothers? The way Mesut tried so hard to pull a laugh from her when she was feeling well enough to come out of her room during school holidays? Katherine was certain he had seen it a couple of times. But then, she was just the unwell sister of his friends. She surely had not been someone he paid close attention to before.

It all led to her innate amusement at his sudden and obvious interest in what she was up to.

A smirk pulled at Katherine's lips as she shifted, her back pressing against the bar as she looked across the dance floor. "Come now, Caleb. If you think a little line like that will get anything out of me, you may want to come up with a new plan. If anyone taught me to be more careful, it's you."

His drink arrived and he offered the bartender a casual nod, tasting the drink to ensure the bartender had not tried to fool him with the cheap stuff - he appeared to know better, which boded well for his tip. He didn't have to scan the club to know what was going on, he could feel the population moving and breathing around him. The trickle of people in and out of the club, facilitated by the bouncers outside, the pulsating of bodies on the dance floor, the emptying of glasses and the lowering of inhibitions.

It seemed her confidence had been completely recovered after her little show at the Christmas Ball, one night erasing the fall that had followed after the ill-fated poker game. That ego could prove an almost certain pitfall for her - even he, the King of Unchecked Hubris, knew when it was appropriate to back down, to allow his humility to save him from certain defeat. It was a trial-and-error process, and he had had his entire life to learn that distinction. Her confidence was new - it might take awhile to grow a level of modesty to match the pride.

"It seems you are a bit inconsistent with that whole careful thing," he said, lifting the glass to his lips again. "I'm a smart enough Auror to pick out the one person in a crowd who, while a very dangerous battle is going on, barely musters up a look of... indifference, is probably the best word." He paused. "I'm also smart enough to know that an absence is the best alibi - I hope you didn't miss me too much once I left the party. It did give me time to think back on the night, recount my favorite topics of conversation, speculate about the rumors about poor Zabini, and wonder what in the world has gotten into that harmless and, frankly, until now, forgettable Avery girl."