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After she was kidnapped to a foreign land, Devora Evans found herself rescued by a questionable team claiming to be spies working for the government. However, she soon found out that the term "spies" was much...
"Mm." Making a sound of agreement, Candice nodded. "He's brave enough to do something the rest of us assassins don't dare to. It's hard to put your heart out there when you have such a dangerous job. He loves us all dearly as his friends, that I know without a doubt, but the look he holds for you and the affection he shows... I don't really know how to explain it but..."
"It's different," Leah finished the sentence for Candice.
"We're just friends," Devora insisted.
"For now," Candice vaguely answered. She then gestured to Leah, nodding towards the set of target boards set up across the room for practice. "Think about what we said, Devora. I know things have been rough between you both the last couple of months but Nathan... he truly means well. We, on the other hand, can't stay here and chat with you for too long. We still have some training to do."
"Training?" Devora echoed. "You really think that Leah should be back on the field so quickly? She just killed someone in front of a whole stadium filled with people. That's not easy to bounce back from mentally."
Instantly, the mood between the three girls soured. Leah had a frown that distorted her facial features, making her lips curl into a sneer and the skin between her eyebrows was wrinkled. Displeased, she folded her arms across her chest, scowling.
"Rich, coming from you. My brother told me what happened. You just returned from a mission, coming out of it with your hands redder than when you started. Aren't you here training as well?" She took a step closer to Devora just as the latter stood up, glaring. "Just like what you told Dallas and Travis, you didn't know me back then. Not well enough to know whether this kill is something I can or cannot bounce back from quickly."
With those words spoken, Leah knocked her shoulder against Devora's, sauntering past her in a trail of flames towards the area meant for target practice. She picked up a few of the silver knives prepared on the table, solemnly polishing each and every blade she intended to use as preparation.
Beside Devora, Candice clicked her tongue in disapproval.
"Very hypocritical of you, Devora. She's old enough to make decisions for herself, you know?"
"I know, I know. It's just... Leah just lost her younger sister. A death that was indirectly caused by the same man that made her a killer." Exasperated, Devora rubbed at her cheeks. She reached for her belongings which were scattered around the punching bag, pulling the pack across her shoulder. "I don't want her to become what I—" she cut herself off. The image of Liam Pine dead on the ground, bullet holes in his body, seared through Devora's mind with a chill. "I just don't want her to become a cold-blooded machine gun. The very same that I almost became."
"You nearly became a perfect assassin, my perfect student." There was a soft smile on Candice's face but her expression was anything but joyful. "But it wasn't you."
"Exactly."
From where she stood, Devora could see that each knife that Leah had thrown had hit its mark perfectly. No fault was observable. Without a doubt, she had become the perfect little assassin. Hopefully, the cruelty didn't come attached to the lethality.
Devora exhaled loudly, her eyes lingering after Leah's precise attacks.
"She's your partner now. Take care of her? I have a feeling that though we're all friends, she listens to you more. Sometimes, it seems to me like you're like an older sister she never had."
"I will." Candice nodded.
Sparing Candice a parting smile, Devora darted for the doors. The sound of sharp silver puncturing into the wooden dummies still rang in her ears even after her departure.
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