The Magpie’s gaze shifted to the gruff man’s neck and he immediately recognized the small tattoo behind his left ear. A single line, with a half sun below it.

Lost Horizon.

“Shit,” he grumbled, then let out an annoyed sigh. This day just kept getting more complicated. “I really wish you hadn’t recognized me, Lenny.”

In less than a second, the prisoner in his arms collapsed to the floor, his throat slit cleanly from side to side, and the knife flew across the room, lodging deep into Lenny’s lung. The man fell with a thud, his hand clutching at the metal handle, gasping for breath. Calmly stepping around the body at his feet, the Magpie approached and kneeled down beside him, moving his weak grip away.

“Sorry. You were so close, I didn’t have time to aim.”

He pulled out the blade, then swiftly stabbed again, this time piercing Lenny’s heart. Still crouched, he watched him slump, the panic from earlier fading together with his consciousness. The raspy breathing became infrequent, then halted completely. Running his fingers absentmindedly along his own neck, the Magpie felt the barely raised skin of the black sunflower tattoo below his left ear and grimaced.

What a mess.

“Maggie?” Squirrel’s voice was back in his ear, high-pitched and worried. “Mags? You there?”

Tugging the knife from between Lenny’s ribs, he sighed at the blood dripping from the sharp, black metal. “Yeah, I’m here.” He cleaned off the thick liquid using the dead man’s shirt, feeling more inconvenienced than anything else, and slipped it carefully back into his boot. “Did you hear everything?”

“Yep. Lost Horizon.” The tone was lighter now, knowing he was safe. “Guess you were right. Doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah.” Staying low to the floor, he peeked under the bed, but it was too dark to see the body that had crawled back into hiding. Partly to Squirrel and partly to himself, he added, “But we have a bigger issue.”

“Bigger than Lost Horizon killing our mark?”

The Magpie was on his stomach, palms pressed to the floor and neck twisted to get a better view.

“How is that possible? Mags?”

After hushing his friend, he shimmied closer to the little creature. He had only glimpsed it before, but between the cry it made and the size of its arms, there was no question it was a child.

Turning onto his side, he stared into the abyss, adjusting enough to see the outline of a huddled form. His shoulders were too wide to fit under the low, metal frame, and his arms weren’t long enough to reach it. The easiest thing would be to simply move the bed. Just pick it up like the lid to a box. But like any frightened animal, he needed it to trust him, or he wouldn’t be able to escape quietly from the building.

And what the hell will you do with it then?

Something to think about later. He had to get out of the apartment first, and away from this mess. If the Lost Horizon was sent after the person he assumed was its mother, the situation wasn’t as simple as overdue loans or problems at work. It seemed the two men came only knowing about the woman, and those men wouldn’t be sharing information. If he could leave with the child, maybe it would be safe.

Safe, he thought, chewing on the word. He knew from experience that no child would have a good life with the Suns. It would just be a pawn in a meaningless game. That definition of ‘safe’ was so broad, but in this world – in his world – that was all there was. Stay hidden, stay free, stay safe. He didn’t need or want anything more than that anyway. And now wasn’t the time to be distracted by pointless contemplation.

After a few minutes of silence, he gently stretched his hand under the bed. The body flinched, but didn’t try to crawl away, so he left his palm open, motionless.

“It’s okay now,” he promised, in the most comforting tone his deep voice could make. He wasn’t someone who smiled, but he tried to make his cold, rigid expression as non-threatening as possible. “Those men can’t hurt you anymore.”

There was only stillness and he groaned under his breath. How did one simple job turn into this? Dealing with traumatized children - dealing with children period - was not a skill he possessed, and he had no idea how to coax it out of hiding.

“I want to help you, but you have to come out first, okay?”

Surprisingly, the figure shifted, then moved close enough to brush against his palm. The hand was tiny and warm, and after another few moments, it wrapped tightly around three of his fingers. He huffed out a quiet laugh.

“I’m pulling you out.”

There was no response. With just a slight tug, the thirty-something pounds slid easily across the wooden floor, landing against his chest with a soft bump. He could feel the small body tremble, curling and pressing itself to him. Without thinking, he brought it in closer, securely holding its waist as he sat.

From its lips, a hushed whimper broke free, and two little arms circled his neck, the grip strong from fright. He let out the nervous breath stuck in his lungs and gingerly rubbed the child’s back. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”