"Well, I was gonna let the police deal with Torres, but now," Soren glanced at the bodies surrounding them, a flash of anger in her eyes. "I'm gonna kill him."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
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Ayman Torres needed to die.
That was the only thought running through Soren's mind as she approached the restaurant he ran his operation out of. The blood that soaked into her clothes and hair would give Carrie a run for her money.
Soren had ignored the problem for long enough, and now, it was getting in the way of her other jobs.
Clenching her fists, Soren pushed through the doors into the restaurant. It hadn't opened for the day yet, so everyone inside was part of Torres' crew. She scanned the room, assessing what kind of danger she could be in. Torres sat at a round table with three of his men, the table next to them occupied by four more.
"Well, well, well." Torres placed his glass on the table. "Looks like the rat came home."
Soren rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her hip. "Give it up, Stay Puft."
The men around Torres all exchanged glances, their fingers itching to reach for their guns if he gave the command.
Kill him, kill, him, kill him, kill him.
A familiar but unplaceable voice in the back of Soren's mind taunted her, urging her to kill.
"Look, sweetheart, no hard feelings, it's just business." Torres reached inside his jacket. "I'm going to have to kill you though."
Torres pulled a gun out, but before he could even aim it at Soren, she had her pistols, the white and black knights, aimed at him. Soren didn't hesitate to shoot, putting a bullet in the skull of all eight men, starting with Torres. Perks of being a highly trained international assassin.
"No hard feelings." Soren shrugged, walking over to Torres's body and unloading the remaining six rounds into him. "It's just business."
She holstered her guns and slipped her hand into one of the pockets on her pants, taking out a devil tarot card. She kissed the card, her lipstick leaving an imprint, and dropped it on Torres's body.
Finally free.
She heard the voice whisper but ignored it. Soren took one last look around and walked out, heading in the direction of her house. By now, the sun had risen and people were out walking the streets. Many of them stared at the blood-covered girl walking proudly down the street, but she didn't care. Even if the police tried to arrest her, she had contingencies in place to prevent serving time.
When she reached her house, she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
"Did you do it?" That familiar, smooth voice asked.
"Yes, Vic, I did." She looked over at him sitting on her couch, dressed in his typical suit and smiled. "What are you doing here?
Victor shrugged and leaned back, watching her as she took her boots off. "I thought you might want some company after the night you had."
She glanced at him and tilted her head. She didn't think Victor was much of the 'hanging out' type. "Yeah, that'd be nice actually."
Victor watched her as she started taking her weapons from their designated spots and placing them on the coffee table, he assumed, to be cleaned.
Soren peeled blood crusted shirt from her body, unaware of Victor's admiring eyes trained on her.
"You don't care much if people see you undressed, do you?" He asked, nodding his head toward the open curtains of the wide front window.
"My body is my tool to use. So, no, I don't care much." She took off her pants and gathered her clothes in a pile to be washed. "Why? Like what you see?"
"Always," Victor smirked.
Soren disappeared for a moment and came back wearing a black nightdress, she had washed most of the blood from her face. She flopped down on the couch next to Victor and sighed.
"I should shower but I'm exhausted." Soren kicked her feet up on the coffee table.
There were a few moments of silence before she spoke up again. "I remembered some stuff about my past."
"Oh yeah?" Victor raised his eyebrow. "Wanna talk about it?"
Soren told Victor about everything she had remembered, and about how a lot of it still didn't make sense but at least she was closer to finding out who she used to be.
"Sounds like you've been busy." He chuckled, adjusting his posture to get more comfortable.
"You have no idea." Soren paused and went to pour a drink for the two of them. She didn't know why, but she felt like she needed to tell him about Jim. "Can I tell you something?"
Victor nodded, taking in her appearance in a more vulnerable state, one he didn't get to see her in often. She handed him his drink and sat back down.
"I uh--" she cleared her throat, "I had sex with Detective Gordon."
Victor's eyes widened, a mix of jealousy and curiosity.
"And before you say it, no, I'm not dumb enough to fall in love with a cop or anything. Honestly, I don't even know if I'm capable of love." Soren took a sip of her whiskey.
"Same." Victor nodded. "So why'd you do it then?"
"Sexual tension and an opportunity for blackmail."
"That's my girl." He smiled proudly.
Soren's heart ached at his words, longing to be called his girl again. She forced the feeling down and sipped her whiskey again.
"I don't know much about you though, Vic." Soren turned to face him. "Tell me something."
Victor thought for a moment before deciding. "I'll show you something instead."
Soren opened her mouth to ask what but stopped when she noticed him pulling his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. Across his toned muscles, there were tally marks: scars. She traced her fingers along the scar tissue, not realizing how close their faces were to one another.
"I mark myself for every person I kill."
Soren retracted her hand and sat back. "I think, we're more alike than either of us know."
