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“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Kara countered. “You sent the right people. Jeremy was integral in figuring out what was causing the unrest here. We never would’ve known about Victor Walcott if it weren’t for him.”
Xiomara said nothing, she merely folded her arms. Kara took it as a sign to go on.
“Rudolph Northrop’s original ceremony was designed to free the lost souls that were trapped here. He almost succeeded. But it was Logan who rang the bell at exactly the right time: once all of the spirits had been drawn in by the crystal, trapped on the other side of the mirror. In doing so he finished the ritual.”
Xiomara unwrapped a small wafer of chocolate. She slipped it into her mouth.
“And?”
“And those poor souls stuck at Averoigne have been set free,” Kara noted. “No more hauntings. No more deaths.”
Xiomara chuckled at her. “That remains to be seen,” she said. “Let’s not go pulling on our own nipples just yet.”
Jeremy looked over at her in silent indignation. He mouthed the words ‘pulling our on own nipples?’ but Kara shushed him.
“You know what I think?” she asked the old woman.
“What?”
“I think you’re pleased as punch,” said Kara. “I think we kicked ass, and you know we kicked ass, but that giving out praise just isn’t a page in your handbook.”
“Handbook?” Xiomara spat the word, then stopped herself from saying anything else. She waddled over to the camera, once again coming way too close. Her distorted face looked absolutely hilarious.
“You want praise, LoPresti? Maybe I should stick a gold star on your fucking forehead! Or better yet, I’ll send you all some medals.”
She was so close to the camera now all they could see was her nose. Her nostrils flaring.
“Medals!” Xiomara continued. “That’s what I’ll do. A whole round of them. In fact, next time you’re at the Blackstone I’ll pin them to your fucking chests! How’s that for praise?”
Her words were still harsh, but the overall tone had changed. It was softer. Less serious. There were subtle changes in her body language too, that made Kara almost break into a smile.
“Medals. For shit’s sake, you want medals.”
Kara and her team sat still, trying not to laugh. Eventually Xiomara returned to the other side of the room. They waited patiently while she sank back behind her desk and sighed mightily.
“You did alright,” she finally conceded. “All of you. Better than I would’ve expected, anyway. I was almost certain one of you would fuc—”
“Bullshit,” Kara smirked. “We did great.”
Xiomara never finished her sentence. Instead she stopped, leaned back, and smirked.
“Good, not great.”
“Fine,” said Kara. “We’ll take it.”
The victory was small, but very very sweet. She decided to savor it. They watched as Xiomara consumed another chocolate, then busied herself with folding the wrapper back into one of her pockets. For a long moment, no one spoke.
“LoPresti, Rhodes,” Xiomara said curtly, “I need words with you.” When Jeremy didn’t move immediately, her gaze shot over to him. “Mr. Manning? Piss off, please.”
Jeremy shrugged as he rose from the chair. He left the room and closed the door behind him. When he was gone, Xiomara cleared her throat.
“Have you had enough of the cold yet?” she asked.
Kara didn’t know what to make of the statement. Neither did Logan. They both looked at each other and nodded.
“Good. Because I need you in Australia.”
“Australia?” Logan asked.
