Hare of Misfortune

Rachel let Barbara wheel her to a black SUV—standard government issue—where she transferred into the passenger-side door with some effort as the legend folded the chair and placed it in the vehicle’s trunk.

While waiting for her, Rachel leaned against the side of the door, glaring in the direction of the sun as it gradually started to reach its zenith. Killing Relica in cold blood would be too much at this point; Merlin stole her chance in the short term to deliver her just vengeance.

Her teeth clamped together as she felt a prideful itch jab her in the gut. No, she could have obliterated the priestess if she wanted; she only had herself to blame. Sure, Veronica, Merlin, and Galahad played their part, but she’d wanted to make Relica lose all hope.

That being said, it didn’t mean she had to like how this was turning out. Rachel tried not to be a sourpuss as the classy-dressed woman crawled into the driver’s seat, wearing a sad smile.

”I’m guessing the UK isn’t handing over Relica.” She started the car and turned to look at her simmer before shifting to look at her. ”Other than the fight, what can I do?”

”No,” Rachel grumbled, scratching her forearm and knotting her feet. ”Just trying to cool off now that everything’s settling down.”

Barbara flashed her teeth, clearly trying to be helpful. ”You know, I could hand you off to someone else—I don’t need to be here—but I’m totally free right now, and I know a friendly face is better than someone just carting you around for their job, so...seriously, let me know. If you want a fight, then we’ll go see a fight.”

Rachel snorted, pressing her head against the cool glass, ears drooping forward. ”Blunt and supportive. Careful, your saint is showing.”

”Haha. Maybe it is,” the brunette laughed, texting someone on her phone quickly. ”We can talk or sit in silence if you want. I’ve got someone who will probably be into that kind of thing that I can message while we wait.”

Barbara smoothed her braid over her shoulder and began playing with her device, leaving Rachel to close her eyes, trying to release the tension compressing her chest. It didn’t take long for her to be chatting with someone, and she appeared to be getting positive results from her expression.

”Hmm.” Figuring this woman was one of the few she could complain to or talk to about most subjects, Rachel puffed out a hot stream of air. ”Full confession, I do kind of want to kill Relica... She hurt so many people I love—hurt me in ways no one has—and that...makes me want to do something.”

The legend glanced up from her phone, set it in the cup holder, and gave her undivided attention. ”Hey, I may be called a saint, but you won’t get tears of sadness from me for putting a hole in that bitch’s chest.”

”Glad to hear!” Rachel chuckled, pulling her own braid around to play with the end. ”I can’t believe how connected everything is... It’s a little scary, if I’m being completely honest. Is this misfortune thing me or something else? Was it the cause of... No, never mind. Ugh. It doesn’t do any good to think about these kinds of things,” she mumbled with a sigh, closing her eyes as her ears folded forward.

Barbara watched her for a second before resting against her seat. ”Sounds like you need more sessions with Doctor Richard than with me, but...hey, if I’m reading the room properly, then working with the UK will get you closer to her anyway. Right? She doesn’t sound like the type to play by the rules for long.”

”Not wrong,” Rachel slowly nodded. ”Relica will mess up. Right now, she’s hiding behind her usefulness, but that will run out, and then she’ll try to escape. I’ll be there for it.”

Rachel’s lips drew in as her vision opened, and she glanced at the legend. ”Not my favorite way of doing things, but I know I can’t just pop off and do whatever I want. I can be patient. My paranoia tells me you’re probably on some secret side, plotting behind everyone’s back, Ms. Saint, but I don’t get a negative vibe from my misfortune...yet.”

”Eh-hehe.” The woman rubbed her face and groaned. ”You really don’t have a chill button, do you? I’m just a soldier that follows orders.”

Rachel smirked and weakly shrugged her shoulders, trying not to let the sunlight keep her down. ”I’ve always been that way, and that doesn’t mean you’re not a soldier in another force, following orders. No need to take it to heart,” she added. ”I’m kind of all sorts of twisted right now... My entire world is falling apart in more ways than I can count.”

”Okay then!” Barbara checked her phone for the address before connecting it to the car’s navigation system. ”And in the meantime, let’s go check out the fight! It looks like one of my old Special Forces boys is in the city and can get us some last-minute extra seats. He’s big into MMA stuff. Well...heh, most of the Special Forces boys are. You good with ringside?”

Jabbing her thumb at the wheelchair in the back, Rachel lifted an eyebrow. ”Hell yeah. Do cripples get discounts?”

They laughed, and the woman pulled away from the curb, the Marine starting them on a new topic that brought Rachel’s ears to the ceiling.

”I saw pictures of you before The Oscillation; you had beef, girl. Check this out...”

Rachel smirked as she took the legend’s offered phone, swiping through photos of what Barbara looked like before The Oscillation. It went without saying she’d catch dirty looks from a lot of women with the number of buff, handsome special forces dudes she was cozy with. ”Damn. You were a bull yourself... What the hell happened?”

Barbara snickered, keeping her eye on the road and seemingly scanning for ambushes or danger. ”Probably the same thing that happened to you; I read your speculation on the matter. At the end of the day, girls have this suppressed desire to be girls. I don’t know; your theory is as good as any. All I know is that I turned into a supermodel.”

Appreciating the distraction and effort the woman was putting in to steer her toward a positive angle, Rachel eyed the legend’s physique from the side; the woman’s rosary caught her attention.

”You don’t seem to be all that sad about it since I can’t imagine you owning that dress with the size you were before. Something that did interest me was your desire to learn about Saint Barbara. I get she’s the Patron Saint of the Marine Corps, but why champion her yourself?”

”Haha! True enough, I suppose,” she whispered, coming to a traffic light and slowing the SUV to look down at her stunning figure. ”What made me want to learn more about Saint Barbara? Well, for one, I’ve always felt this need to feel more connected to God, had a die-hard atheist father who belittled my faith as a teen, and that made me pretty independent and confrontational about it.”

Rachel drew in her lips, thinking about her mom’s beliefs as a shaman. ”That sucks. I never liked others bullying people, be it for their skin color, beliefs, or anything else. I was never religious myself, but my mom’s pretty rooted in our culture back in Korea.”

The legend shrugged. ”It is what it is. He roasted me over the flames, I guess you could say...always attacking me in front of his audience and embarrassing me at school... I grew a thick skin from it that helped me in the military.”

”Ah.” Rachel hugged herself, seeing Barbara in a new light as she got to know her. ”So you joined the military to spite him and get away?”

The woman forced a laugh. ”Yeah, you could say that. I haven’t seen him since he beat me half to death when I was sixteen... I went to a big local church he’d been beefing with and been trying to expose, as he put it... The beating was why I started going to the gym. I didn’t want to feel powerless like that again.”