"Hey, you okay? We can go to the infirmary first," Irene eyed my bloody side with a slight frown, "I saw your back earlier, and it doesn't look good. I forgot you don't heal as quickly as we do."
You'd be surprised, I thought. "I'll be fine, it's not as bad as it looks."
Irene looked suspicious but nodded anyway. We walked through the underground parking lot of the Order's building. Night had fallen in the time it took us to get here, and the car's radio stations were all raving about the kidnapping. The cherry on top was that someone had leaked information about the case, and the news speculated that the kidnapping was related to it. One news anchor even said they had called the Order's office, and that they were still waiting for the confirmation.
I was relieved that everything was finally out in the open.
"Hopefully we'll only be scolded for an hour or so," Irene cracked her neck, "If I don't get a good scrubbing soon, the stink will be stuck to my nose for the rest of the year."
"An hour?" I whined, I really needed a shower, too, and I was not in the mood to hear any crap the director would be spewing. The elevator dinged open, we got in.
"Mhm," Irene grinned, "your first day in the Order was quite eventful."
I sighed heavily, wanting to lean my back against the wall but realizing the mess I'd make if I did. On the tenth floor, the elevator opened to admit a neatly dressed woman. A witch. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw us, but she got in anyway.
The woman stood in front of us, her shoulders hunched. She was holding her breath. I realized then that the elevator must stink with Irene and I in it. I looked at Irene, her eyes told me she was thinking the same. She wrinkled her nose, her lips pressed tightly to hold in a laugh. As soon as the elevator opened, the witch all but ran out. Irene and I dissolved into a fit of giggles. It was completely inappropriate, but we couldn't seem to stop ourselves.
"Oh God, the poor woman. Did you see the look on her face!" Irene said through her laughter.
"She was turning purple there at the end," I said, gasping for breath. We were going insane, laughing for no reason whatsoever.
We were still smiling when we finally reached the twenty first floor. The smile drained out of our faces quickly, though.
The floor was quiet, as quiet as the last time I'd been here. But there was something essentially wrong this time. The calm in the eye of the storm, that was what it felt like. My senses pricked. I had the sudden urge to haul ass out of here. My wide eyed stare met Irene's as we headed to the director's office.
"Do you feel it, too?" she whispered. I was too apprehensive to act as if I didn't feel the bone chilling atmosphere around. It probably gave away that I wasn't a normal human, but I didn't care at this point. As long as knowledge of my magic wasn't compromised, it was fine. I nodded.
We reached the assistant's office. Miranda was looking as white as her skirt suit. Her blue eyes had a crazed look in them. She stood up with jerky motions.
"They're waiting for you, please go in," she said in a tremulous voice. Okay, the director must be in a seriously shitty mood.
Irene knocked on the door, then pushed it open. She paused slightly, her shoulder tightening, then went in. As soon as the view of the office cleared in front of me, I knew there was something terribly wrong.
The director wasn't on his own. He was standing in front of his desk, his posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back, chin high but gaze lowered. Who in the world was powerful enough to elicit such a response from the Order's director? One of Arthur's men? If that was the case, I was in a shitload of crap.
The office was slightly dark, the only light a soft orange glow emanating from a floor lamp in the corner near the desk.
I walked in, closing the door behind me and keeping my eyes carefully down. Whoever was in this office made my survival instinct scream at me to get out of here. If I want to keep my secrets, I shouldn't catch their attention.
Irene stood on the right of the director and slightly behind, I mirrored her position on his left.
Vampire. My senses picked up on a vampire in the vicinity. But the vampire was standing on my left, leaning on the wall. I focused my senses carefully on whoever was behind the director's desk. But I couldn't pick up anything. Nothing at all. There was only this awful void of energy.
"Hmm... so this is the human."
Coming from behind the desk, the deep voice was almost hypnotizing in how low and peaceful it sounded. I was not fooled, though. Underlying that serenity was a feeling of unmatched raw power that made goosebumps break all over my skin.
"Yes, Sire."
The director's reply made my entire body lock.
Crap.
Crap, crap, crap, crap.
I'm in the deepest load of crap I've ever been in my entire life.
Sire. There was only one person who the director would address that way. Very few people knew what he looked like, but I kind of did. Uncle Robert had described him to me one day, after he had told me very explicitly to avoid being in his vicinity for as long as I wanted to keep my true nature a secret.
Well, too late for that. Might as well take a peak. Just a quick glance.
I looked up, but couldn't take my eyes away. It was like being sucked in by a vortex. Dark, dark eyes were riveted on me with an intensity that made my breath catch. I had the impression that this was what a rabbit felt like meeting the eyes of a lion.
I was no rabbit, I thought to myself. My stubbornness got in the way of my better judgement one more time. I tilted my chin up, keeping my eyes locked to his. The rest of him blurred, along with everything and everyone else in the office. Only those dark orbs remained clear in my vision. Meeting his gaze was all that mattered.
His lack of magical presence didn't matter. The sense of age and power oozing from his eyes was so heavy that it threatened to crush me under. Dear Lord, how powerful was he?
He blinked, and the spell broke. Everything cleared up again around me. The tense silence in the office and the vampire on my left who had taken a step closer to me. This was bad, I hadn't even noticed him moving. It never happened before, I was always extremely aware of my surroundings.
I glared at the man behind the desk. His hair was jet black, glossy enough to tempt a saint into running their hand through it, pushed back to reveal a face with clean cut features framed with a light dark scruff. He looked like barely tamed wilderness. His skin had a healthy golden glow from being under the sun often, and his wide upper body was crammed into a plain white t-shirt that did nothing to diminish the air of authority around him.
So this was Arthur, one of the Five, an original vampire. Uncle Robert described him as a tall, muscled man, with dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. Typical uncle Robert. It was like describing a lion as a kitty cat.
He leaned back in the director's chair. His gaze, still fixed on me, held a note of taunting amusement.
Oh, great, I've amused the devil. Lovely.
"I've seen a video of you and agent Kim fighting from this evening," he said in that deep voice, "I must say, you fight incredibly well for a human."
I couldn't resist, "is that supposed to be a compliment? Because you're doing a horrible job at it."
Arthur cocked his head to the side. A strangled sound from my right. The director or Irene. The vampire on my left took another step closer. I quietly dropped a knife in my palm but left my hands behind my back, then glanced at the vampire. A big blond man, in an army green t-shirt, jeans and combat boots. His blue eyes looked at me impassively, but there was no mistaking the threat in them. He would chop me into little pieces and feed them to his pet snake without a twinge of regret. Another psycho. Join the squad.
This one was younger than the director, but he was not weaker. He narrowed his eyes at me. I would not look down first. Arthur was able to reduce my existence to dust with a snap of his fingers, but I was no weakling, I would bow down to no one. I was too proud to know better. The vampire took another step closer. The director and Irene shifted.
"Charles, stand down," Arthur said.
The vampire's nostrils flared, but he obeyed the order instantly. Taking several steps back to stand with his back against the wall, he looked straight ahead of him.
I looked back at Arthur. His elbows were resting on the arm rests, his fingers clasped loosely in front of him, and the beginning of a smile on his lips. He took his eyes from me long enough to nod at the director, then met my eyes again.
"Agent Kim, report on the case," the director said, his voice strained, "from the beginning."
"Yes, sir," Irene said. Her voice was calm and measured as she reported everything so far about the case, up to the fight with the demons, how the kidnapper disappeared in the alley and the traces of high demonic presence there.
All throughout, Arthur and I hadn't looked away from each other. My palm was hurting from the force with which I held onto the knife.
When Irene fell silent, Arthur shifted his gaze to the Director.
"This is quite a mess, George."
The director remained silent, Arthur leaned forward on the desk. I almost took a step back from the look in his eyes.
"Why didn't you notify me?"
George hesitated, then "The Order has it under control, Sire."
Under control, my ass.
"Hmm, under control. So that's why you brought a human into it, when one of my seconds would have been strong enough to take on the demon killer."
I waited for the director's reply. To be honest, I did not feel sorry for the man in the slightest. If anyone needed a good chewing out, it was him. The arrogant prick.
"Miss Sanders had a specific ability we could use, I saw no reason to engage one of the seconds in such a case. The risk wasn't considerable."
I glared at the director. How could he say that? I knew human lives were an acceptable loss for them, but to deliberately endanger them was going too far.
Arthur stood up slowly. He was tall, at least six four, with wide shoulders that tapered into a flat stomach and muscled thighs. His mere presence was smothering.
He was doing something to cloak his magical presence right now, but if he hadn't, I probably wouldn't have been able to talk to him or even look at him the way I had. Even now, I was finding it difficult to control my reflexes and not back away.
"Miss Sanders, agent Kim, you'll be working directly under my people on anything concerning this case from now on," Arthur said, "You'll be briefed tomorrow on the changes. You're dismissed."
Irene and I couldn't get out of that room fast enough. Still feeling the weight of Arthur's gaze, I barely nodded at the assistant then speed walked to the elevator. Neither of us spoke on the ride down, not until we were in the car.
"Do you have a death wish!" Irene said, looking at me like I'd sprouted a second head.
"What?" I fastened my seat belt, then fisted my hands to keep them from shaking. Irene shook her head in disbelief and started the car.
"You do know who he is, don't you?" Irene asked.
"Kind of hard to miss with the director all tied up in knots like that."
"So you knew he's Arthur, and yet you acted like...like-" she shook her head again, "I still can't believe that."
"It wasn't that bad." I murmured, scratching my side. The wounds had stopped bleeding five minutes after I was injured, but it would take a bit more time for them to heal completely. The skin would be scratchy in the interim.
"Oh, yes, it was," Irene laughed humorlessly, "that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days."
The words echoed those of uncle Robert a long time ago. I was seven years old, sitting with uncle Robert under the shade of a tree near our cabin, the two of us cleaning our weapons as he taught me another lesson on the world.
"The Five are the first ones, they're the oldest, the most powerful. Their powers are unmatched. The more time you spend with one of them, the higher the chance they'll figure out what you are. So if you ever find yourself in their presence, keep your head down and try to not catch their attention," uncle Robert looked at me for a long time then sighed, ruffling my hair, "I don't know why I bother. You can't help but attract attention. That bloody, big mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."
"I do not have a big mouth," I said with all the indignation of a seven year old. Uncle Robert had laughed. The memory of the big, hearty sound still made me feel safe.
The drive to the living quarters was short. When we walked in, Irene looked at my bloody clothes with a slight frown.
"There's a med kit in the bathroom, I'll help you deal with your back and side-"
"No need," I replied quickly, "it's not deep, I'll take care of them myself."
I felt her eyes on my face, but kept looking straight ahead. I was starting to like Irene, and having to lie to her made me feel guilty. She stayed quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
We took the elevator to the third floor, at the door of her apartment, Irene said, "Meeting in thirty minutes, we need to go check the new crime scene."
"Alright."
Then I was inside. After checking the room and the locks, I grabbed a change of clothes and went into the shower. With my knives on the bathroom counter, I jumped under the water. It took a long time of scrubbing before the dried blood finally washed off. When the water ran clear, I got out. My wounds, as expected, were tender to the touch, the skin barely closed off. I toweled myself dry then put on my clothes, a sweatshirt and cargo pants, ran a comb through the short strands of my hair, picked up my knives and walked out to my bedroom, and then into the living room.
The living room was dark.
I froze in the doorway. The living room lights usually turn on automatically when I get in and stay that way until I turn them off myself. I had not turned them off before going into the shower.
Gripping my knives firmly, I crouched slightly, standing on the balls of my feet. I blinked hard to adapt my eyes to the darkness and stretched my senses around me.
There. That same void of power I sensed from Arthur. How the hell could he do that? Cloak his presence that way? If I wasn't really paying attention, he wouldn't register at all to my senses. Not as a human nor as a vampire.
I registered to other immortals as a human, though I wasn't one. So whatever he was doing wasn't the same as what had been done to me.
My eyes adjusted slightly, and I could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the dining table.
"It's rude to come in uninvited," I said, thankful that my voice didn't waver. A light, rough chuckle, a snap of fingers, then the lights were on. I squinted my eyes so they don't go blind from the sudden light.
Sure enough, Arthur was sitting on one of my dining table chairs. He leaned back until the chair stood on one leg instead of four. He had one ankle on his knee. Showoff.
His posture was the epitome of carefree, but I knew better.
"No housewarming gift? I'm disappointed," I said with a cherubic smile.
His lips stretched into a smile, a dimple flashing in his left cheek. Right, of course he'd have a dimple, as if he wasn't good looking enough already.
"A big mouth for such a small human," his long, sooty lashes dropped as he ran his gaze down and up my body, deliberately slow.
"Mhm, they keep telling me that," I said.
"Elle Sanders," he murmured, looking into my eyes again, "Elle Sanders. A human, yet not really. You're quite intriguing."
I really hoped he couldn't hear my heart because it had just sped up like crazy. "You really should work on your complementing skills."
"Have you no sense of self-preservation?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"I do. But it's kind of low on my list of priorities. Right below not sucking up to immortals, no matter if they were elders." and I really needed to shut up before I got myself killed.
A full grin bloomed on his face. Wow, he really was good looking. A moment later I was slammed against the wall next to the bedroom door, my feet not touching the floor. Arthur hadn't moved from his spot. I tried moving, but couldn't.
Arthur slowly brought the chair down then stood up.
My body was not mine anymore. Panic threatened to pull me under. Calm down. I took a deep breath. I had been too focused on him that I didn't know what he was doing with his mind.
Usually, if anyone even tried to touch my mind, I felt it immediately even if I was in the middle of a fight. But this, this was so subtle I didn't even get a hint.
Arthur was walking slowly toward me. I focused my senses inward, and sure enough, it was as if someone held a fist around my mind. Worse, he was trying to look through my head like it was his own damn purse. No way, asshole.
I breathed in deep, then with all the training I had since I could barely walk, I shoved the foreign presence out of my mind with a force that made my head spin. A trickle of warm blood leaked down my nose. I dropped to the ground.
He stopped walking and cocked his head to the side. This time I was ready, and as soon as he tried to brush against my mind I pushed him out.
"Stay out of my head," I said through clenched teeth, sitting up against the wall. My hands were spasming around the knives, but I didn't let go of them.
Arthur shook his head and held his hand up. A pack of tissues flew from the table to his hand. Telekinetic. Right.
I was pulled to my feet a second later. I panicked, looking for his intrusive presence in my mind again, but found nothing. I moved my arms and succeeded. He wasn't controlling my mind now, but it felt as though a cushion of air was surrounding me. He was using his telekinesis to keep me upright.
He walked up to me, took a tissue out then the pack floated back to its place right in the center of the dining table.
"As I said," he held out the tissue, "very intriguing."
Accepting the tissue, I wiped the blood, regarding him suspiciously. "What do you want?"
He smiled again. He was so close, I had to crane my neck up to look at him. Damn him, why did he have to be so tall?
"Just checking," he said, "you seem to have an interesting set of abilities for a human."
I shrugged nonchalantly, but kept my mouth shut.
"Who taught you to fight?" he asked. I blinked at the change of subjects, barely keeping myself from reacting.
"I learned. Here and there."
"Hmm," he nodded thoughtfully, then raised his hand toward me. I lashed out with the knives in my hands. He stopped. Arching a brow, he glanced at the knives and I felt them being ripped out of my hands. They flew away, floating in the air behind him. I gaped in surprise.
He took the chance and touched his fingers to my hair, rubbing the strands with an impassive face. I pulled my head back, wide eyed, "What the hell are you doing?"
"You have company," He said, changing the subject again, and took a step back. He was giving me whiplash.
I managed not to stagger when the telekinetic cushion around me vanished. A second later, a knock sounded from the door. It must be Irene.
He raised a brow, "you're not going to invite your friend in?"
I scowled at him. There was no way I was going to give my back to this guy.
"Do you really believe you can stop me if I want to hurt you?"
I startled, checking my mental shields again. He didn't read my mind. How did he guess what I was thinking?
"You're easy to read, every thought is written on your face."
I thinned my lips, trying to wipe any expression from my face. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, but it was gone before I could be sure.
"So why haven't you?" I asked.
"Haven't I what?"
Another knock sounded on the door, with Irene's voice calling my name.
"Hurt me," I clarified. He smiled slowly.
"I find myself intrigued, " he replied, "It has been a while, and I would hate to cut it short."
Fantastic. Simply fantastic. I gulped, realizing he was right. If he'd truly wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't have been able to stop him. So I went to open the door.
Still. When I side-stepped him, I snatched my knives from the air and made sure to walk sideways to the door, keeping him in my line of sight. A slight chuckle escaped him as he looked over his shoulder at me. I glared at him.
When I reached the door, I glanced at it for nothing more than a second to get hold of the door knob. But that was all it took. I pulled the door open and when I looked back, the apartment was empty.
I ran to the window, which was now open, and looked down. It was the third floor, for goodness sake. But there was no trace of Arthur.
He was gone.
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