Suicide Mission (Guarded Secrets #1)

13: "Demon or should I say Hell's angel?"

"You wouldn't believe what she's having me do, Damon," I whined for the third time since Damon had come to get me for lunch. For some reason, even though Rum was my trainer, Damon was the one ending my training and telling me when to start. He would drop me off at Rum's and then pick me up for lunch, but that was probably because I didn't know my way around and needed someone to guide me. Without him, they would be sending search parties for me every time I went to the bathroom.

"Don't forget to go see Ms. DeLuca before you go to sleep so she can show you the equipment and supplies you'll be receiving for the mission," Damon said clearly trying to change the subject again. He hadn't responded to anything I said, and most times I was having a hard time believing he was even listening. From how he responded it was like he was having a different conversation compared to the one I was trying to have with him.

"Damon, seriously. I just need you to talk to me about this. You know ignoring me isn't going to do anything, I will just keep going back to the topic until you listen."

He placed his tray on the table next to Raider before he sat down. "I told you, Sara, in this building you call everyone by their code name. It's Demon, just call me Demon." He groaned as he rubbed his temples together, clearly agitated by my refusal to call him by his code name when he still called me by my name since I didn't have a code name yet.

"I'm sorry, Demon, or should I say Hell's angel?" I growled as I took my seat next to Spit Fire. She moved away from me slightly, clearly uncomfortable by my angry demeanor, or maybe it was that some of my food had splattered onto the table and near her when I slammed my tray down.

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm. Call me Demon, that's it," Demon ordered. "Now what were you asking about tattoos earlier?" he asked, yet again trying to change the topic. He had been trying to change the topic since I brought it up in line for food, and I was getting annoyed with him.

"I don't appreciate you not listening to me and trying to change the topic. Can you go back to training me please? Your training at least made sense, her's doesn't!"

"I can't be your trainer, Sara." He sighed. "You need a constant trainer. Someone who will work with you for years to come if you decide to stay, a mentor to teach you and learn with you. You need someone that can help you practice the skills you already possess for your specific job. I am not a thief. I am nothing related to a thief. So therefore, I am unable to be your trainer, and I apologize for it, but no."

"Why can't you be my trainer though?" I whined, not understanding why I needed a trainer that was a thief when the last one died in the raid. We didn't have another thief to train me anyway, so really anyone could train me. "You said I would have many to help get a variety of training."

"Hey, Spit Fire, you have a tattoo right?" Demon asked, trying to change the topic again, but this time adding in other people so it would stick better. He clearly didn't know how determined I was to finish this discussion. I wanted him to be my trainer, not Rum. Her training didn't make any sense, between the breathing and stretching, most times with her on my back while I stretched, she had me practice ducking her stick. Most times I got hit more than I could duck and maneuver out of range. I could only imagine what she would have me do next.

"I do. It's a giant Phoenix, on my back," she said, speaking for the first time since we sat down, as she put a fork full of mashed potatoes into her mouth. This conversation clearly held no interest for her, and she seemed exhausted, but I could only think that it was because she was training. Her pale face was flushed, and her almond colored eyes held a hesitant gaze while her voiced seemed to be pushing back her emotions. Her mind was heavy with the days to come, and nowhere near this conversation.