Strannick opened the door to the apartment, tugging the keys from the lock as he moved aside to let Noah through.

“So this is where you live, hm?” Noah said, looking around. The apartment really was small, akin to a studio with a small kitchenette, a table for two, a small couch and chair, a TV sitting on a cheap bookcase, and a queen sized bed along the far wall, the headboard against the one window the place possessed. The bathroom was off to the side, the shower stall just barely wide enough for Strannick to fit. Noah looked back at him with an amused grin. “It’s nice.”

Strannick snorted. “It’s a piece of shit,” he said, closing the door behind him and tossing the keys on the counter. “But it’s what we can afford right now, so…” he shrugged. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Do you have any rum?”

Strannick’s eyebrow shot into his hairline. “You drink?”

Noah laughed. “I’m not a kid anymore, Kas. Besides, I’ve learned to acquire a taste for it for my job.”

Strannick’s brow twitched. “I have whiskey, is that okay?” He pulled down the brown bottle, waving it slightly, the amber liquid within sloshing against the sides.

“I’ve never had it before.”

“It’s nothing like rum, trust me. How do you usually take your drinks? Mixed or straight?”

“Mixed,” Noah said, taking a seat at the table. “It goes down easier.”

“It also makes it easier to get drunk.” He pulled down two glasses and opened the bottle, pouring it slowly. He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of coke, adding it to Noah’s. “If you can’t taste the alcohol, you don’t know when to stop.”

Noah chuckled as Strannick set the drink in front of him, taking the other seat with his whiskey straight already at his lips. He took a seat, his eyes fixed on Noah’s face. Noah took a sip of his drink, his own eyes sliding over Strannick’s face and body. He’d gotten bigger somehow, his features harder. Exile would do that to a man. He smiled. 

“What?” Noah asked, a small grin playing on his lips as he lowered his glass.

Strannick smiled over the rim of his glass. “Nothing,” he said. “You haven’t changed much. You still look the same.”

“Is that bad?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

Noah set his drink down. “My instructors told me early on that my youth and beauty could be used to my advantage,” he said, twirling his glass around. “When I peaked, I thought about letting myself look older, and I have, but I still kept a lot of my original features. Even Havik said it was a good play on my part.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Good,” Noah said, taking another sip. “He and Kayla have been dating for a while now.”

Strannick winced, dropping his gaze to the amber liquid within the cheap glass. 

Noah’s face fell. “Oh,” he said, sitting back. “Sorry, I forgot…”

Strannick shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, his low voice near a rumble. He drained the whiskey, reaching for the bottle still sitting on the kitchen counter to pour another. For the size of the apartment, added to his already long reach, it wasn’t difficult. He poured himself another and took a smaller swig. “I don’t expect any of them to find me. Not even my parents have tried.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t talked to anyone in my family, either.”

Strannick chuckled softly. “Slightly. But I’m sure that’s more by choice, right?”

Noah’s gaze fell. “In a way, yeah,” he said. “It’s safer for them that way.”

Strannick sat back. “How much can you tell me?”

“How much do you want to know?”

He just stared, his eyes and waves saying everything. Noah nodded, running his finger along the edge of his half empty glass. 

“There were one hundred candidates in my class,” he began. “Ten survived.”

Strannick’s eyebrow twitched. He didn’t need any elaboration; Noah meant it exactly how it sounded. Training to be an assassin was hard and dangerous. If you couldn’t cut it, you died, simple as that. 

“Do you all work for Havik?” he asked.

Noah shook his head. “Some of them are freelance, taking up jobs from guilds or private parties. Sometimes even the military. We’re trained spies as well as assassins, we have to be. Not every mark is meant to die, some are hunted for information alone. That doesn’t mean we leave them completely unscathed. Mind manipulation, even certain poisons, can ensure our target never remembers our faces or what they told us. We were trained in both overt and covert tactics.”

“Which do you prefer?”

Noah smiled, leaning his chin on his hand. “Overt.”

Strannick sat back, not sure how to react appropriately. Covert meant hiding in the shadows, watching and listening. Overt meant a more personal touch, killing up close when he had to. “Do I even want to know?”

“You can probably guess without having to think too hard about it.”

Strannick glanced at his drink, wondering briefly if he had seen Noah touch it. Noah’s laugh made him jerk, the sound as clear and light as silver bells. His heart skipped a beat but he did his best not to let Noah feel it.

“I didn’t mess with anything, don’t worry,” Noah said, his eyes sparkling. “You’re in no danger from me.”

“Yeah, right,” Strannick muttered, taking another sip. He wasn’t referring to poison.

The angel rested his cheek between two fingers, watching the bigger man. “How’s Evie?”

Strannick’s hand froze halfway to the table, his eyes darkening as he cast them down. “Fine,” he said, the word short and clipped. “We’re fine, I guess,” he added after a breath.

“You two are still together even now?”

Strannick set his glass down, twirling it back and forth. “You sound surprised.”

“Somewhat, yes,” Noah nodded. “I would have thought she would have abandoned you like the rest of them.”

“Well, she didn’t,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He closed his eyes, sighing. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

Noah shook his head, his eyes glued to his face. He said nothing, waiting. Strannick couldn’t hide much from him and they both knew it. That unintentional link between them wouldn’t allow it.

Strannick opened his eyes. “When it happened,” he began, swallowing hard, “when Toji exiled me, the first place I went to was the village we all used to hang out in. Evie was already there waiting for me. I told her what happened, that I wouldn’t blame her if she left. I was an asshole for what I’d done and I didn’t deserve anything good at that point, not even her. She was shocked and more than a little upset, and justifiably so. But she stayed. She said she’d stay by my side no matter what.”

He rubbed a hand over his face and over his short brown hair, looking off to the side, his expression almost unreadable. “Things were fine for a while, we traveled together, worked together, everything. But then we started taking separate jobs, spending more time apart. Days, sometimes weeks at a time. We always come back to each other, but we aren’t as close as we used to be. She works a lot more with Dracon and a few other demons hunting down the Rogue factions, even helping to take down a few. I’m sure the Helmans are real proud of her.” The last was said sardonically, rolling his eyes.

“Do they know you two are still together?”

Strannick just shrugged, draining his glass. He didn’t refill it. “I don’t exist as far as they’re concerned.”

“No, I suppose not,” Noah said softly. He tilted his head, his expression sober. “You don’t separate a Prince from his soulmate and expect to still be accepted as a part of the family.”

Strannick’s gaze shifted to him, hard. “Yet, here you are.”

“I’m different.”