The Puppet Assassin [TTR sequel]

The Puppet Assassin - Ch 3 [cutting the crap -|- dizelde]

"What are you running from?" he asked, his expression holding a smidgen of concern but mostly wariness.

I struggled to keep my feet still and not back up as he got closer. I had to show I was trustworthy, he might be able to find me a way to lengthen the distance between me and the assassins. But as he drew nearer, the power in his eyes became overbearing, so much that I had to duck my head.

"Luke, we might find something if we look through her things."

The man, Luke, shot a silencing look over to Garth and then switched back to me. "She can tell me herself. You see, there's been rumour that someone who's been killing some of my pack has been sighted round here. And I really don't want you to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just tell me what you're doing here and we're you're going and I might be able to help you out." He didn't sound threatening but I caught a vibe of it as he spoke. I looked back up.

"I've never killed anybody." My voice wavered as I thought back to my visions and nightmares of past memories. Had I killed before?

Garth hissed and Luke tightened his lips into a thin line. I guess that they had heard that I had spoken a lie, or a semi lie. I didn't know if I was telling the truth or not.

"Garth, check her bag." He leaned down so that we were eye level. "Tell me where you're from."

I felt compelled to tell him but I had no idea where the assassin complex was located, not even what state or country we were in. Only Scythe and a few leaders knew. And I had no clue where I was born. My father had been French, and I knew a little, but unless I had my birth certificate at hand, I didn't know my birthplace.

"I don't know."

Garth trod slowly towards me. I kept watch on his distance from me out of the corner of my eye.

"Do you have amnesia?"

I considered laughing but to do so in this man's face would probably earn me a solid glare. And with those eyes I didn't want to risk it. I shook my head. "I don't even know where we are now."

Garth got a metre away and I swung my backpack off my back and settled it between my feet, shooting him a warning look. He rolled his eyes.

"Just give him the bag..." Luke folded his arms.

I shook my head again. Who would want to give help to someone who carried clothing used in stealthy situations, a set of different size and weighted knives and two fake passports?

While keeping his eyes on mine, Luke bent down unhurriedly and reached out for the bag. I didn't move to stop him. Why the hell didn't I?

"Please don't," I pleaded as he threw it over to Garth.

Luke snapped his teeth together. "For us to put our trust in you, you must place your trust in us! Do not expect us to help you when you keep things hidden from us."

I closed my eyes. This guy was dangerous, probably not the best guy to bump in to while I was trying to run away. I heard the zip of my bag being opened, the shuffling of my items, a clattering sound like a bunch of knives dropping to the ground. I flinched.

"What are you running from? Did someone abuse you?"

I opened my eyes in shock, stunned to see worry and disgust in his eyes. Worry for me, disgust for someone else, I hoped.

"I - I..."

"Erm, Luke." Garth held up the two passports and all emotion was wiped from Luke's face.

"What did you do? Why are you running?" he snarled. I shivered fearfully at his sudden change in attitude.

"I'm running away," I whispered. I felt mortified as my eyes grew wet with tears. "I'm running because I don't want to do it. I can't do it. Please just help me get out of here."

Luke stuck out his chin. "Who're you running from? Answer me that one question and I will help you."

"It's not just one person," I said shakily.

"Give him a name, kid," Garth said from the side. I heard sympathy in his voice.

I blinked hard to get rid of the moisture and looked up at the hard face of what I hoped would be my saviour.

"Scythe."

Luke sucked in a breath and glanced around quickly, as if trying to see if invoking the name would make him appear.

"That bloody sneaky Minister for Defence?" Garth swore loudly.

"Garth, there's nothing left for us to do here, get the jeep packed up."

Garth let out a deep breath and dropped the passports back into the bag. He tossed it back to my feet and collected the knives wrapped in tarp to tuck under his arm. He walked off muttering curses under his breath.

Luke leant his hands on his knees but kept our eyesight locked. "What can't you do anymore?"

I bit my lip. I had to trust him. Trust to be trusted. "I can't become an assassin."

His jaw instantly clenched and shot upright.

"What's your name?"

I blinked in shock. What was he asking? Why now, after all I'd said?

"Dizelde."

He rubbed his hand over his face and suddenly looked very young. He couldn't be much older than me. "Well, Dizelde, you are on the outskirts of Carlow in Ireland. And you are coming with Garth and I to Dublin."

Before I could even take a breath, let alone think, he snatched up my bag, got a grip on my arm and hurried us around the house to where Garth stood leaning against a black Jeep. I was all but tossed inside, given a moment to put on my seat belt as the other two got in, and then we were flying forward, speeding away from the decaying house, the compound, and my old life.