The rain fell on Lincoln as he sauntered through Quinn’s streets.

He was in no rush to see Moira again, but as awkward as the situation might be, he was compelled to visit Moira in her holding cell. Lincoln had questions that needed to be answered and maybe a grievance or two to air.

He had to ask twice for directions to where she was being held as he dodged in and out of the rain, but he made it there, although a little later than he would have liked.

He took off his coat as he entered the building. There wasn’t a whole lot of activity happening inside. Two guards were conversing nearby, and a few others passed him as they travelled through the building to some unknown destination.

Lincoln approached the conversing guards and asked them for directions.

Lincoln followed their instructions as he traversed the grey stone structure. As he rounded the last corner, he saw a familiar face.

Sloane spotted him first. “You’re here to see Moira are you?”

He nodded. “Is she allowed visitors?”

Sloane unlocked the large metal door. “Sure is.” She pushed the door open and approached him. “I’ll be around. Just yell if you need anything.”

“Sure, thanks.”

As he walked towards the open door, he noticed a bundle of belongings tucked away close by. He easily recognized it as Moira’s. It looked as if it contained most of her clothes and her weapons, amongst other things. It was probably left there for her when they thought she would be freed in the morning, but Lincoln knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He walked into the cell and closed the door behind him. The cell was basically a large stone box lacking in any sort of decoration, except the large window.

Seeing her in such a sorry state curbed his anger, but not completely.

Moira didn’t look at him or say a word.

“I wasted three days here because of you.”

She still did nothing.

“I came to you for help, and all you’ve done is lie to me!” He pulled out his notebook. “All of this is useless to me now. How am I to know that any of this is true or not?”

Moira responded without looking at him. “I didn’t lie to you.”

Lincoln’s anger began to rise again. “Oh really? I know that you’re from Kilmore, not Brinn like you said. And I also know you’re a bloody werewolf.” He pointed the book at her. “Now tell me why the hell would a werewolf tell anyone how to kill one!”

She kept her gaze firmly on the ground. “You said you wanted to save lives. That’s why I do this. To save lives.”

“Bullshit!” Lincoln threw the book against the wall near the door. “You shot that man who got bit, and I assume you killed James Nolan as well. Sure, James, I understand, but why kill Kaleb?”

“He would have ended up just like James.”

“Because he would have been a werewolf?” Lincoln asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, so are you! Why did he die, but you got to live? You

damn hypocrite. What makes you so special?”

Moira’s head sprang up, her teary eye meeting his. Tears fell as her hurt turned to rage. Lincoln took a step back when she yelled.

“I’m not one of them! Don’t you dare talk like you know anything about me. You have no idea what I’ve had to endure. What I’ve done over the years!” She gripped the edge of her seat and strained against her bindings. “I lived here for years and I’ve never hurt anyone.”

“If that’s true, why didn’t you tell them that?”

Moira looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Have you forgotten where we are? This is what happens when people find out the truth. You either get the choice to die, or you can be hunted for the rest of your life! All of this is your fault! I don’t deserve this!” She shook her head. “You can’t honestly say that you’ve never told someone a lie to protect yourself?”

Lincoln honestly couldn’t. Worse still, he told lies to protect his self-image, not to keep himself alive. He felt foolish. But how did he know she wasn’t still lying to him. He’s only been here for almost four days now! How was he supposed to know if any of this was true?

Lincoln’s mind waged a savage civil war as Sloane came bursting through the door.

“Eh! What is all this commotion about?” she said, looking between them as she caught her breath.

Moira responded, “Don’t worry about it. He’s leaving now.” She gave Lincoln a hard look.

Sloane opened the door for him. “You heard her. Time to go.”

Lincoln still said nothing as he stormed out of the cell with Sloane following behind him.

The rain had only intensified during his stay. It soaked into his soul as he stomped outside. His shoulder slumped as he wandered the vacant streets, but it wasn’t his waterlogged clothes that weighed them down.

“Urrrghhhaaa!” Lincoln yelled as he kicked an abandoned bucket, spilling its collection of rain as it bounced down the stone road. He had gone there for answers, not to be tormented with questions.

He couldn’t make sense of any of this. The tips she supplied him seemed to ring true, but she’d lied about herself. Why tell the truth about one and lie about the other? Especially considering who and what she was. But wasn’t she entitled to her secrets? He’d told his fair share of them. He slept with a lord’s virgin daughter once, Lady Mallory was her name. He still couldn’t believe that he convinced them he was just giving her a medical examination. Lincoln chuckled at the memory but quickly stopped as he let out a long sigh.

He waffled between guilt and suspicion as he continued his journey, but he settled on feeling ill as he cast his view to the darkened sky above.

Night was fast approaching.

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