sometimes the king is a woman [reed]

"You really should calm down," Reed told her mischievously; the wizard was fully aware of just how much witches loved to be told to relax. In reality, he could understand her distress. A stranger had just told her she was being tricked and then played her not five minutes later. If Ace had been entirely calm in light of recent events, Reed might have suspected something was off about her. Still, her attitude and obvious annoyance did make his night a little more entertaining, so he did very little to assuage her. Surveying their surroundings, the dark street, the entrance to Knockturn just around the corner, Reed nearly missed seeing her produce her wand.

  "You're the one who caused it," Turning back with his lips pursed, ready to explain that (in addition to calming down) she should also learn how to listen, Reed saw the flash of light escaping her wand. Though Reed's was still in his hand from apparating the two of them, the wizard did not move to raise his wand. The curse hurled his way in the blink of an eye, and Reed stood still as it hit his heavily enchanted suit and bounced away. Ricocheting off his broad chest without leaving as much as a wrinkle behind, the curse crashed into a refuse bin across the street and knocked the lid clean off.

"I would not recommend trying that again." He warned, the impish smirk removed from his sullen features, leaving nothing but cold eyes and ink-marked skin in its wake. Reed held her glare for the moment, something in his reckless eyes daring her to press her luck, before taking a deep, centering breath. Chaos begets chaos, he reminded himself, turning his eyes from her to brush off the spot on his suit where her magic had hit. Marisa's magic was at work again; Reed had trusted the suit to act as an invisible force field and deflect the suit. Tilting his eyes from Ace, he watched as the suit glimmered slightly, the enchantments reinforcing themselves in light of an attack.

"Unless, of course, you are not interested in having your broom returned to you."

Her eyes gleamed darkly as she nearly shook in her fury. He better watch himself, she thought, as she gripped her wand tightly. She might not care if she hexed him into next week and the Ministry or whoever was raiding the racing ring found her because of it. It might be more rewarding to wipe that smarmy look right off his face.

But she was grinning as the hex she sent his way found its mark, only to leave her whispering, "What the hell!" She watched as the curse bounced (?) off his suit and went ricocheting into a nearby bin. Tara was breathing hard, with her anger and resentment and adrenaline, but she felt a sick swoop as she looked at him, almost as if a curtain being pulled back from his face. There he was. The beast underneath. His tattoos seemed to be darker against his skin, his stare frosty, but Tara, stubborn woman to the extreme, refused to back down.

She gripped her wand tightly, ready to spring at a moment's notice, wary even as she taunted him. "Why, afraid that your Marchesi isn't going to come to your rescue again?" she spat at him, her dark hair swirling around her as wind swept down the alley. Of course this bastard would have paid handsomely for a top of the line Marchesi suit, but there was a warning bell in the back of her mind that he wasn't one of the yuppies that tried to schmooze her dad. She got the distinct feeling he would know exactly what to do if she attacked in earnest. If she was a little less arrogant, Tara might even be surprised that she had gotten off one shot as it was.

Her thoughts turned hard, her glare deepening as he mentioned her most prized possession. "What the hell do you know about my broom," she demanded, almost glancing in that direction, but she didn't want to take her eyes off him, just in case he wanted to return her little hex. She was tempted to perform an Accio right then and there but if the Ministry had set up an apparation barrier, she was sure they had thought of that too. "Damn it, tell me what you know!"

Reed blinked slowly at her, his shoulders rested, showing how little he took her threats seriously. He wasn't tense or angry or looking to fire another shot back but instead relaxed and observant. The fact that he felt no need to posture and act defensively, proving just how powerful he was. He could understand her frustration; she had every right to be pissed at him. While he wasn't looking to become a test dummy for Marisa's spells' efficacy, Reed did trust the suit to protect him, not that he needed it. In addition to a strict cardio and strength regime, Reed trained daily in the Ministry gym and charms-firing range; he was more than capable.

"First, you need to calm down." Reed sighed, checking the expensive watch on his wrist; this was taking too long. "And for fucks sake, stop screaming. Someone might hear you and get the wrong idea." The street was relatively deserted but not altogether abandoned, and the last thing he needed was some shithead do-gooder thinking Ace needed to be rescued. He'd managed to keep his temper in check so far, but wizards with hero complexes always fueled his fire.

"Here is the deal, Ace, you and everyone else at that race were set up." The wizard had learned a whole lot more than just a time and a place when he interrogated the Chatty Kathy from the Games & Sports department. He had also learned the who and why. The syndicate that organized the illegal races was the same group of wizards who had ratted them out to the Ministry. Everything had a price, and the Ministry was just a band of gangsters with official clearance. Reed knew that better than anyone; Reed encouraged it.

He thought to lean against the wall as he recounted the tale of woe but decided against it, the brick looked slimy, and his suit was too expensive to risk. Instead, he fished a silver case from the pocket and pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from it deftly. Reed used the tip of his wand to lite the stick, taking a long drag and letting it dangle from his lips as he continued, the smoke billowing around his face. "Aurors got to make some arrests, the gangsters get to clean house a little, and in exchange for a cut of the take, and a few bribes, the ministry turns your custom broom back over to the wizards who screwed you."

It was quite an intricate plan if he cared to admit it, but Reed couldn't be impressed by the same men who were trying to cut him out of a different deal. He took another puff of the cigarette, holding it between his thumb and forefinger before looking at Ace directly. "Good news for you is that they tried to fuck me over too, so I'm going to help you get it back."

She felt her shoulders rising, a tension at the base of her neck that she couldn't relax from as he stood there unbothered and unfazed. What the fuck. He wasn't even riled and yet she was spitting fire. He wasn't even wary and yet she had her wand pointed at him, ready to fire off another hex. She wanted to curse him and his stupid handsome face just to make herself feel better. And maybe to distract her from what had just happened. Merlin, her broom.

"Don't tell me to calm down," she hissed at him, though a little quieter than her last raging comment. She had the grace to glance at the buildings on either side of them to see any obvious signs that someone was watching them, spying on them. Just like he had spied on her. She was seething. If she ever got her broom back, she was going to whack him over the head with it until he was nothing but dust. But the thought of not getting her broom back after spending years and years perfecting it made her heart lurch in a way that was so uncomfortable that she had to immediately push the idea away. She would get it back, she told herself. She had to.

But at least he was giving her something. "Set up by who? How did they know?" she asked, wanting more information, wanting to know every detail he had. She had been in the ring for years and yes, they had leaks sometimes, but the whole might of the Ministry coming down on them? This shit was serious and she almost glanced back, wondering if some of her friends had gotten out or if they were already on their way to being arrested. Tara hated that she had been so fast to grab his hand and escape, leaving them there.

She narrowed her gaze at him instead. "How do you know all this?" Then shortly followed by, "Who the fuck wants my broom?" she asked lowly, rage simmering in her quiet tone. Maybe if she found out more from him about what the hell was actually going on, she could help her friends. Well, they weren't really her friend friends, but they certainly didn't deserve to be dicked over by guys like this one in the Marchesi especially when he--- "You what?" she asked in disbelief, taken aback, her brows flying up at his offer. "So you're involved in all of this, but you're going to help me get it back?" she asked, clarifying, not trusting him for a second, but she couldn't help the hopeful uptick in her tone.

Ace still had her wand trained on him, but Reed was used to negotiating under these sorts of circumstances. He was nothing if calm under pressure; it was required in his line of work, and Reed was very good at his job. He took another drag of the cigarette, the unfiltered smoke grating against his throat harshly, and gave her a look. "By the wizards who run the racing ring," He explained. "They cut a deal with the ministry." While he was sure this would be a shock to her, to Reed, it was just another day at the office. The real war was over now, so most things had returned to normal.

Gangsters and Aurors were brutal to tell apart, and everyone was out for themselves. The ministry was easy to bribe because almost every Auror was punching the clock now. A bunch of fat wizards waiting for retirement or a cushy job in the private sector and looking to add a few extra sickles to their Gringotts account in the meantime. The ministry was full of exploitable holes, and it was people like Ace who got caught in the crossfire.

Intel was essential to any mission, and Reed knew that Ace deserved answers, but he grew weary of explanations. Not because she didn't need them, but because the more time they spent here, the less time they spent screwing over those who had betrayed them. "I know all of this because I work for the ministry." Reed knew that, too, would probably surprise (and piss her off), but he let the truth out calmly. Without flinching, and then nodded. "Different department, but I hear things." Reed was a snoop. He was nosy and an expert at getting people to tell him their secrets; it came in handy in situations like this. The wizard finished his cigarette and flicked it to the side of him; it sizzled as it fell into a puddle on the cracked stone streets.

"Not involved, aware." Reed corrected her as he moved away from the wall and Ace. He took a few steps down the street, blending into the shadows as his true black suit seemed to absorb any light around him. Another of Marisa's spells, and quite helpful. "If you want my help, we should get going." Reed held a tattooed hand out for her to take, another mysterious offer, and spoke again. "Time is not on our side."

"No fucking way" was the only thought that she could form at his little drop of crucial intel. He had to be kidding. Why would the organizers cut a deal? What would they have to gain with that? She didn't believe him for a second, but then again, the fact that he somehow knew the inner workings of all of this, the fact that he was at least one step ahead of her, made her reluctant to brush him off entirely. It was like a slap in the ass that he didn't seem bothered in the least that she had her wand trained on him too. He was either nuts or was used to it. At this point, either was likely.

Tara lowered her wand slowly. No use in threatening someone who was unfazed, though she didn't tuck it away just yet. The adrenaline and tingles of self-preservation were still pumping through her and while she wanted the information Marchesi man seemed to have, she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. Her brows flew up as he dropped another little present on her lap. Worked for the ministry? "So you're working against the people who employ you?" she asked derisively, not believing him for a second. Why would he do that. What reason would he have for it. If he could afford a Marchesi, he was either being paid handsomely to be a pencil pushing nimwit at the Ministry or he was rolling in family dough and didn't need a real job in the first place. She couldn't sort out anything with this bloke and that irritated her even more.

Aware, he had said. While she was utterly in the dark. And broomless. And out all of her winnings. She wanted to punch him in his perfectly tailored suit just to make herself feel better. But it was undeniable. She wanted to know more, needed to know more. It had her following him as he took steps down the street, blinking as he seemed to blend into the darkness like a shadow wraith. She eyed his extended hand and crossed her arms in front of her as she shook her head. "Tell me where we're going this time. And who the hell are you," she demanded. She didn't like surprises, she didn't like that he used smarmy one-liners, and she certainly didn't like that he clearly had the upper hand here.

Reed scoffed at the way that Tara saw the situation like it was black-and-white. It wasn’t as simple as she was describing it; he wasn’t going against the people who employed him but instead fixing another corrupt cog in the machine. Reed was dirty, he was a scoundrel who took bribes and made problems go away, but he was careful not to shit where he ate. He never crossed the British Ministry, but he also hadn’t turned his back on those he came up with in Knockturn Alley. It was a delicate line to walk, but it was far more comfortable to do when wearing 120 galleon, custom Marchesi leather oxfords. These Aurors who made a deal with the racing ring to bring it down, only to let it come back stronger and line their own pockets, had crossed Reed on another deal, and the wizard never let his vengeance get cold.

Honestly, he could not have cared one way or another about Ace, her broom, or the entire racing syndicate, but it was the most efficient way for Reed to hurt those who had tried to hurt him. In a way, he considered Ace lucky to have his help. And knowing the men they were about to go up against, they’d both need a little bit of luck. “I don’t work for those blokes,” Reed answered carefully, his eyes narrowing on hers before they moved on, and he moved away from the wall.

Holding his tattooed hand out to her, Reed was both surprised and unphased that she refused to take it. He was a bit irritated, if anything, but he was careful not to show it as she crossed her arms defiantly. Ace wasn’t dull, at least. “I’ve already told you what you need to know.” He answered again, shifting his weight casually as he rechecked his timepiece. The charmed watch clicked past another deadline; there was always more to do than time in the day, it seemed. “Fine,” He sighed, “The men who took your broom holed up at a gambling club in Liverpool.”

“The little casino is off-the-books, and you have to know someone to get it in, and lucky for me, I know the one and only Ace.” Reed tilted his head to the side as he said her name, one he knew couldn’t have possibly been the one she was given at birth, so he felt no guilt in not revealing his identity. Another of the carefully managed lines Reed was forced to walk, living half in the official world, and have in the underworld. It wasn’t as if his appearance was unforgettable, with those devilish eyes and tattoos snaking their way out of his perfectly tailored Marchesi suit. Often, Reed would use a Polyjuice on assignment, but once and a while, his reputation opened more doors than it closed, and he was counting on that tonight.

“You can call me Reed.” He finally offered, ice blue eyes flicking down to the hand he still had outstretched for her and then back up.

"Has anyone ever told you your half-answers to everything are really fucking annoying?" Tara told him, amusement finally peeking its head up from around her irritation. This bloke literally hadn't answered a single question straight on and he probably thought he was being all mysterious and intriguing. It was actually just really annoying.

And arrogant too. I’ve already told you what you need to know. Her brows flew up and she shook her head once. "Try again," she told him sweetly, her tone still had an edge. They both knew he was keeping her in the dark and she wasn't an idiot who was going to go along with it. Tara held her ground as he made a show of checking his undoubtedly expensive watch. Please. She wasn't interested or impressed by that flash. So she waited, giving him a look, which she was glad a moment later when it seemed to work. "Liverpool?" she questioned with a frown. A casino in Liverpool, it sounded familiar but she wasn't sure. It's not like she kept track of places she'd been.

If nothing else, he seemed cool and confident. And informed. She grated her teeth as she regarded his outstretched hand and a second later was slapping her palm in his with more force than was necessary. "Okay, 'Reed' if that's even your real name. But easy on the apparating. If you splinch me, I'll have your balls."

While Reed had meant to keep a straight face, Tara's comment caught him off guard. In his line of work, he'd dealt with just about every personality type one might dream up, but it was good to know that even Reed could still be surprised sometimes. He chuckled at her, shaking his head, before meeting her eye again. Maybe his comments had been open-ended, but truthfully he'd given her a helluva lot more information than he normally afforded assets. Typically, the more they knew, the more they got in the way.

And yet, even though she'd given him some sass, Reed didn't feel like she was quite as angry as she had been ten minutes ago. Still pissy and still not about to take any of his shit, but he was starting to get the feeling that that was just Ace's default resting state. "Yes, Liverpool, are you done with the questions yet?" He threw her attitude right back at her, but the smile on his face indicated he was playful. "If you want me to explain every little detail to you and answer all of your questions, we can do that, but just know that every second we stand in this alley, someone is spending your galleons." Reed reminded her of the clock again and waited for an answer.

And Ace did not let him down. "Noted," he said with another laugh and took her hand. They didn't have far to go, but Reed had to be careful exactly where they apparated to. A bagman typically watched the alley out back and inside was a bad idea, so instead, he dropped them half a block away, behind a take-out restaurant that had closed during the last war and never reopened. "You will be recognized here," He began, brushing off any errant wrinkle in his suit and then turning to her. "Use that to our advantage. No one will think you know what happened; they will let their guard down," Was Reed using her? Absolutely. Was Ace getting something out of the deal too? Absolutely.

"It's this way," He ushered for her to join him, heading toward a hole in the wall that opened into a grand magical casino, and he rechecked his watch.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered under her breath as he remarked about her asking too many questions and she felt her ire tick up again at the thought of someone else spending her winnings. But more so than that, she wanted her fucking broom back. If she had to redo all of her custom charms from scratch, it would take her ages. And most of them were ones she had created herself and she didn't like that someone else had access to that.

Tara didn't like the sound of his laughter at her warning, but somewhere in her mind she registered that this bloke wasn't as dumb as he looked so she hoped for his sake, it sunk in a little. Seconds later after she felt the thrill of the twisting into nothingness and the pull of being sucked back out, they landed in a back alley and thankfully for him, all in one piece. His balls would stay in tact for now.

She brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder, mirrors his actions as he straightened his suit and touched his watch. Tara glanced down at what she was wearing and then took another glance at him. She was still in her street clothes as Ace, not anything as fancy as he was wearing. "They'll know me as Ace?" she clarified with a perked brow and then gave him a begrudging nod as he gave her the run down. Efficient. She could appreciate that.

They entered into the casino, flashing lights from the charmed floors that looked like gold and chandeliers dripping with chintzy crystals, gave the vibe of cheap luxury. Like the trinkets you got at a street stand in any tourist trap city. The people in there were the real indicator though. Grizzled and surrounded by cigarette smoke with deep lines on their faces that spoke of their desperation to escape their pathetic lives and did so by shoving little bronze coins into slot machines that wouldn't reward them. Shit, even she wouldn't hang out here. Tara glanced at Reed and laughed like he had just told a bawdy joke as she hung on his arm, playing the part as she hissed at him. "What the hell is this place?"

“Yes, like Ace,” Reed informed her as they moved, “They take bets on your races here, have your picture up on the bloody scoreboard.” A part of him wondered how much Ace knew about the people they were going after. Surely, she understood that more than one cog turned this wheel, and more than one wheel made sickles off her races. He thought about telling her more but decided better; that was a conversation for another time and certainly not one to be had outside of the lion’s den itself. As they reached the door, a wizard looked up and then returned to his radio broadcast and half-smoked cigar. The first hurdle passed; Reed followed her down into the casino.

The few stairs between the street outside and the main level widened into a tawdry vestibule. Everything here was meant to shine, but the cheap materials just looked slick and slimy from the glow of the magical lanterns on the walls. Reed silently reminded himself not to lean up against anything. And after the vestibule was the casino floor, lights and sounds and cigarette smoke wafting. It was not the sort of place Reed was typically found, it was low rent, and Reed only liked expensive things.

Tara laughed, and he smiled at the sound of it. Then, leaning closer to her, he whispered playfully, as if they were on a date, and he was trying to impress her with cleverness. “This is where souls come to die.” The wizard led her further into the casino, past the slot machines and the platform that houses the high stakes poker tables, and toward the bar in the back. The bar with a big set of black doors behind it labeled “Employees Only.”

“We need to get through that door.” He whispered again, nuzzling a little closer to her ear, careful not to be overheard. A tattooed hand reached the bar first, and Reed motioned for the bartender.

“Give us two of your Snitchnip’s; my girl won tonight,” Reed had scanned the menu board as they approached and picked the least awful sounding (and most expensive) cocktail they had. He hoped it tasted better than the Quidditch foul it was named after.

"They better've chosen a hot photo of me," Tara quipped with a dark smile, using humor to cover her anger. It worked in the immediate, but she could feel it bubbling beneath the surface. She was going to tear every single one of them apart with her own hands if that's what it took and she was going to use whatever tools she had at her disposal to do it, Reed included.

This is where souls come to die? Playboy had a thing for the dramatics apparently, but he wasn't wrong either. Tara could play the part though, touching his chest as she leaned into him too, the very picture of a couple in pre-canoodle. She draped an arm against the bar as she gave a grin to the bartender, feeling his hot breath against her ear, giving him a little nod and look, understanding instantly. This little ruse would've been a hell of a lot more fun if she wasn't fucking pissed about the raid.

Tara gave a little wink to the bartender as Reed ordered what sounded like a terrible cocktail that probably tasted worst than piss before she turned to him and ran a hand up over his shoulder, leaning in as if to whisper something naughty. "Are you handling the distraction or should I? And watch your fucking hands," she warned before pulling back and giving him a coquettish smile that was all fake.

Reed wondered if it would be possible to take an unattractive photo of such an attractive witch, but he left the thought to himself as they crossed the casino floor. When they reached the bar, he genuinely smiled at the way Tara made herself comfortable. He already had the feeling she would be familiar with pretending to be someone else, he doubted her real name was Ace, after all, but it was good to see it in action. Reed was used to going into situations with untrained assets, but once and a while, someone surprised him.

Tara leaned into him, and his hand moved to the small of her back as if he had done it a million times. He let out a raspy laugh as she pulled away and raised an eyebrow. The bartender turned around, preparing their drinks, and Reed whispered back. “I’d rather watch your hands.” He teased, and then the witch behind the bar returned with their drinks, and a tiny part of Reed died on the inside. Three poorly blended colors of Merlin-knew-what floated inside the cup, oily and slick, and somehow also fizzy from the juice mixture. And if that was not bad enough, the drink was garnished with a fucking straw in the shape of a Quidditch broom.

“Thanks,” he said as a tattooed hand reached for the glass and checked the time on his watch once more. Three minutes, he thought to himself and leaned in closer to the bartender. With a wickedly charming smile on his face, Reed had every intention of keeping her entertained until the teenager he’d hired to knock over a bunch of tables around the corner started causing some mayhem, but something else happened instead. As he began to speak, he saw the way the woman’s eyes slid away from him and focused on Tara instead. It seemed she was a chaser for a different team, then; Reed licked his lips in amusement.

Pulling away from the bar, he held his drink in one hand he leaned in to whisper to her. “Two minutes, you’ll know when,” He told her, nipping at her ear for good measure and giving the barmaid a wink as he pulled away. “Gonna’ take a piss,” He said, committed to playing the part of a no-class scoundrel, and left Tara to keep the barmaid busy while he pretended to head in the direction of the restrooms.

Tara gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. If he wasn't helping her get back something that was so important to her, she would have dropped his slimy ass in a second. Or maybe shagged him first and gotten the curiosity out of the way before giving him the boot. But still she couldn't do either right now. She had more important things to worry about.

But when he leaned in to give her the quiet heads up and felt his mouth on her ear, she really had to hold back a punch to his gut. She was neatly counting all the things Playboy had done tonight to piss her off and that was top of the list. She gave his side a hard pinch before he pulled away, smiling prettily up at him. "Hurry back," she said before she turned to the bartender and gave her an eyeroll. "Men." The woman on the other side of the counter grinned and they shared a look, Tara licking her lips inadvertently which lead the bartender to focus on her mouth. Hmm.

Tara leaned in against the bar and made idle chitchat, happy to see her guess might be right about this witch, and she wasn't mad about it. Had Playboy noticed that quickly too? She didn't have much time to ponder before she heard a crash, whipping her head around. "What was that?" Tara asked before another crash sounded. The bartender excused herself, leaving her towel behind on the counter as she hurried towards the disturbance. Tara was quick about ducking around the side of the bar and sliding the "Employees Only" doors open, sneaking a glance around them before she felt Reed's presence behind her. "What are we walking into here?" she asked as she held the swinging doors back until they shut softly behind them.

Reed's side stung from where Ace had pinched him even as he moved away, checking his watch and waiting for the chaos to begin. Right on schedule and with quite a bit more flare than Reed had been expecting, the teenager made quite the stir. On the cue, Reed slipped behind the set of doors that lead to their prize and waited patiently for the witch to join him. It only took a moment, but it was more than enough time for Reed to inspect their new surroundings. Everything behind the door seemed to be made out of stainless steel, floor to ceiling, prep tables, and stoves, ovens, and refrigerators, but for whatever reason, this kitchen was empty.

"This is as far as my intel goes," Reed admitted, even though it pained him to do so, and then ushered her away from the door. "Just let me take the lead, alright," It had worked so far. They were here, which was a hell of a lot closer to her broom than when she'd been all curious and demanding in the alleyway, but Reed knew by saying it he'd probably push more buttons. It was a calculated risk, though, because if nothing else, Reed knew how to manage a situation. Tonight wasn't the first time he'd watched her race, and he'd learned a few things about her, the most important of which was that Ace tended to walk taller when she was pissed off about something. And tonight, he needed her to be as tall as possible. Confident, unrelenting, and refusing to quit.

"This way," Reed pointed toward the hallway that led further into the inner workings of the casino. He had heard about less-than-legal betting areas tucked deep inside, and he was willing to stake his salary that they had the broom hidden back there. As they moved, Reed pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and held it between his lips, not lighting it yet. Reed wasn't trying to set off the sprinklers and blow the whole operation. As they approached another set of doors, Reed moved in first, checking the doors and corners.

Turning back to her, he spoke with the unlit cigarette still hanging off of his bottom lip. "I'm assuming you know the stunning spells?"