Dane Jonson | River City

Most days, Dane hated his job. He would never tell anyone that, but he really hated it. Even the handsome paycheck and prestige of being one of the staff members at one of the most elite clubs in the city could make up for the actual tasks of the job. More specifically, it couldn't make up for his boss. James Carmichael was a snake of a man who practically ruled any underground operation in the city. Somehow, he'd earned the nickname Osiris, though calling him that to his face was said to be a death sentence. Dane hated the days when he was stuck in the club pretending to be the world's scrawniest bouncer. He hated knowing his boss might be watching, or having to deal with his creepy assistant Dimitri. But what he hated more was actually being called into the boss's office. He had the scars to prove why that was to be avoided.

The one thing Dane did not hate was what his actual job was. He was Osiris' primary messenger, because no one else in the club could be quite so effective. He knew how to get someone's attention and could get out before he got hurt. He was sure there were quite a few police reports with his description and the tag of "vandal" attached to him, as these messages usually involved a lot of broken windows and smashed property. Usually once he was caught by the owners of said property, he'd merely state that Osiris sends his regards, and hopped out of there.

Today was one of those good days, with a message to deliver. He had an address, a name, and instructions to get inside but otherwise it was standard. He didn't even know anything about the target, other than her name was Lady Rosetide and Osiris had some beef with her. But he had a beef with half the city, so that wasn't anything special. He didn't even know if it was her home, her base of operations, or just a place she could be found.

Strolling up to the door with a hefty crowbar resting on his shoulder, he calmly rapped his knuckles on the door. If there was no answer, he had a means to get inside.

Dane had lost track of how long had passed since he'd lost the important people in his life. First it had been Lucian to Osiris' hand. And five years after that, the old man had died to Dane's own hand. And eight years after that, Crawford had died. The first had been unexpected and left a hole inside him that nothing could ever completely fill. However, getting his revenge had served to partially patch it. But losing his best friend left him hurting in a different way altogether. So he threw himself into his vices. Nothing could kill him, but that didn't stop him from trying to let it happen.

He was finally starting to live again. Or at least pretending to. He wasn't quite as pickled as he had been, and he was venturing out more and more. He found himself in the embrace of a wild party, celebrating the arrival of a new year. It was a reminder of the fact that it had been over twenty years since he'd lost Lucian. It soured the night once the realization hit, but he swallowed it well, hiding it as he downed another drink.

As midnight approached, the tension in the room grew. He made his way through the revelers, and if by some miracle, they parted before him and at the other end of the gap was a man he'd never thought he'd see again. He leaned on the bar, a woman talking to him. It couldn't be. Lucian? It must be a trick of the light. It had to be.

"TEN!" The crowd shouted around him.

Seized by an impulse, he started pushing through the crowd. "NINE!" they shouted. It felt like a countdown for him. If he didn't reach the other side of the room before they reached zero, this illusion would vanish forever. He dodged and ducked through the crowd as they counted down.

"FOUR!" A couple arm and arm in front of him was his last obstacle, but they were oblivious to the distress behind them. "THREE!" Muttering an apology, he shoved through them, ignoring their protests.

"TWO!" He could see the woman, leaning closer to Lucian now. At this close, he could see. It wasn't just a similar face. Everything about him was exactly the same. He didn't have time for doubts.

"ONE!" His fingers wrapped around lapels of the man's jacket, dragging him closer. Their lips crashed together as the party around them exploded. And they could have been whispering for as much as Dane heard them. Fingers ran up into familiar curls as he pulled Lucian closer. He tasted the salt in the kiss before he was even aware his cheeks or eyes were damp.