"When you're truly angry, you turn into one of those crazy wild cats you like so much."
Those were uncle Robert's words to me after a particularly grueling fight. I didn't remember what I was angry with him about, it had seemed so important at the time. But by the end of the fight, he really looked like he fought a wild cat. His clothes were all shredded, he was bleeding from multiple cuts and his left eye was swollen shut. We had been fighting bare handed.
Of course, I hadn't looked much better, but ever since that day, I promised myself that if I could help it, I would never fight someone when I was that angry.
I decided to give myself a break today. Because just like uncle Robert had taught me not to fight while angry, he also taught me not to let people walk all over me. "Immortals respect strength," he'd said, "Now, Ellie, strength isn't always physical, but sometimes, the physical aspect does count greatly."
"Do you have any steel knives?" I asked Irene, she nodded and handed me two from her thigh sheaths.
"We can even get you a sword, if you want," the vampire said, swinging his sword again and putting himself into a fighting stance.
"That won't be necessary."
I weighed Irene's knives in my hand, threw them in the air a few times to get a feel of how they handled.
"Shall we do this, then?" I slowly walked towards the vampire, the immortals in the hall were all watching.
"Sure, Darling," he said in a tone that made my blood boil some more. "I'll go easy on you, who knows, maybe I can show you a good time after this. I'd love a roll in the hay with a human."
A few men snickered, drawing glares of most females around. Any guilt I felt about fighting while angry just vanished. Disgusting asshole. Oh, I would enjoy this, I would enjoy this like I hadn't enjoyed anything in a long, long while.
We circled each other, our eyes locked. I observed his body for a while, the way his feet moved, the way he held his sword, his eyes. I tested his reflex by faking a step forward. Too slow. Was he faking it or was he really that slow?
Oh well, only one way to find out.
Swords are great and all. But once your opponent gets too close, it becomes useless for someone who can't fight well.
I charged at the vampire, keeping my movements deliberately slow. He saw me coming and thrust his sword straight at my chest level.
I dodged the weapon with enough room for an elephant to fit in, then went straight in, close enough that he couldn't use his sword. With my usual speed, I hit him twice in the solar plexus, punched him in the throat and was out of his reach before he knew what hit him.
He really was slow.
Whispers and gasps filled the air. The vampire was struggling for breath. It may take a long time to kill us, but suffocating was no fun. Now that he was in pain, his reaction time was even worse. I got close, he swung his sword. I ducked and knocked it out of the way with a high kick. His grip on the sword was good, though, so he didn't drop it.
He swung again, faster this time. He was recovering from losing his breath. Oh, no. That wouldn't do, now, would it? I jumped out of the way, then as he was still in the process of swinging the sword back, I zipped behind him and kicked his knees from behind.
He fell on his knees. I brought my elbow down on the top of his head, then hit both his temples with the handles of the knives in my hands.
Good night, asshole.
I turned before he collapsed, and made my way through the astonished crowd. They gave me a wide berth. Good. I was in no mood to argue with anyone. I had another asshole to knock down. The anger inside of me was like dry wood to my flames. They wanted to burst out of my skin.
Jesse rose when I reached him. His brows pulled down on, darkening his hazel eyes.
"Come on, cat. You want a fight? Let's fight." I said.
Everyone around us took a collective step back, whispering furiously. Jesse crossed his arms over his chest, the hunter green t-shirt pulled tight on his arms.
"I'd love to put you in your place, but I'm under orders."
I beamed at him, then stepped closer, "let's be accurate. You're under orders not to start a fight with me. Here, I'll make it easy for you."
He was not expecting it, which was why my knives hit him right in his shoulders. The thud sound of steel being buried in flesh was music to my ears. He took a startled step back, his expression contorting into one of irritation and surprise rather than pain.
Snarling, he pulled the knives out and dropped them to the floor.
"There, is that enough to start a fight?" I said, "Or should I use silver?" I patted my thigh sheath. He looked at me like I was insane.
"What the hell? You crazy bitc-" I charged at him, cutting off his cursing spree. He dodged my kick and jumped back out of my reach.
"I'm not fighting you," he said through gritted teeth, even as he lowered himself to a crouch.
I laughed, "well, too bad, kitty. You don't get to play games with me and bail out whenever it suits you."
I attacked again, he managed to block every single punch and kick with ease. I wasn't expecting any less, he was one of Arthur's seconds, after all.
But I was furious. One of my punches connected to his ribs. It was like hitting a damn wall. Still, his grunt told me it bothered him, at the very least. He took hold of my wrist and pulled me to him, his eyes a bright green.
"Stop," he growled out through gritted teeth.
"Make me," I raised my knee to hit him in the groin, but before it could connect, he had moved out of the way. I couldn't see him. His arms closed around me from behind, lifting me off the ground and pinning my arms to my body.
"Calm the hell down," he said in my ear. I kicked back with my legs. Only one kick connected to his shin, the steel heel boot proving its use once again. His curse was very colorful. Unfortunately, his bones seemed to be made of rocks because he didn't move away. Fine. I kicked him again to distract him, and at the same time, hit his nose with the back of my head. I heard a crunch.
A loud growl emanated from his chest, vibrating my whole body with it. He threw me aside like a ragdoll. I twisted mid air and landed in a crouch, skidding on the dirt.
Jesse was so close to shifting, I could see fur poking out of his arms. His eyes a brilliant green and fangs protruding out of his gums. I charged at him and he did the same. About damn time.
Out of nowhere, Arthur appeared between Jesse and I. He pushed the two of us away from each other. His hand felt like a sledgehammer on my sternum. The shapeshifter and I flew backwards, I somehow managed to stop myself in time from hitting the wall. Jesse, however, slammed into it with such force that the brick cracked. Arthur must have hit him much harder than he did me.
"Everyone out," he said, in his calm voice. He didn't even shout, yet every single immortal in the hall filed out like well behaved soldiers, their eyes wide.
It took me a moment to get my lungs working again. I covered my mouth when a coughing fit raked my chest. It felt like nails were being shoved into my heart from the inside. A couple of seconds later I was fine, but the blood I saw in my hand wasn't a good indication. I didn't think Arthur had hit me that hard.
"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur said, his head going back and forth between Jesse and me. Jesse shook his head, as if to clear it, then came to stand close to Arthur. His feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back and head down.
"Sire."
That single word held all the apology and regret one could muster. Huh. I guess he really didn't want to break his promise to Arthur.
I wiped the blood on the back of my pants, "I started it."
Arthur kept looking at Jesse. It was the same look uncle Robert used to give me when I did something wrong and he was waiting for me to confess. And Jesse did confess.
"No, I started it."
I glared at him, walking up to them, "I remember sticking two knives in your shoulders first, or did you forget? Should I refresh your memory?"
Jesse snarled at me.
"Enough." Arthur said, "Jesse, go."
"Sire-"
"Go."
Jesse walked out, but not before giving me a death glare. I glared right back.
"I truly did start it," I told Arthur. He crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at me. I did not whither under the force of his scowl.
"What?" I snapped.
"Are you with him or against him?"
"Does it matter?"
"No," Arthur said, "the fact is, he had orders not to start anything with you."
"He didn't."
"He let John get away with something he wouldn't usually get away with. Provoking fights just for fun and insulting anyone, especially females, is strictly against the rules." Arthur said, "Jesse was responsible for the senior soldiers this morning, he should've stopped John. Now you, on the other hand, I expected you to have more sense than to fight him where everyone can see."
"Why should I care?"
"Because you want to keep your identity hidden," he said, "doing this, being reckless, will not help."
I snapped my mouth shut. He was right. Of course he was right. But, "so what, I should've just let him walk all over me?"
Arthur nodded slowly, "Priorities. Obviously your pride is at the top of the list. No matter, now you have to deal with the rumors."
"What rumors?"
"No human can knock out a two hundred and fifty years old vampire the way you did. And no human, no matter how good a fighter, can score a hit on one of my seconds."
I blew out a breath, "that's why I told you to just let me leave, but would you listen? No, of course not."
He flicked my forehead before I even realized he'd raised his hand.
"Hey!" I held my forehead. It stung a little. "What's that for?"
Instead of replying, he walked away, calling over his shoulder, "Come along."
I glanced at the vampire I'd knocked out. He was still soundly asleep. "Are we just going to leave him here?"
"Yes."
I shrugged. Who was I to argue? Besides, I didn't really feel guilty about it. So I followed Arthur, "where are we going?"
"You're going to train the kids, aren't you?"
How did he even know? "Yes."
"It's my turn to keep my end of the deal."
When we got outside, I paused for a moment at the doors. Everyone who had been present in my little showdown was waiting out here. Jesse was nowhere to be seen. They all straightened up when Arthur spoke.
"Back to your training," Arthur said, "this is the last time a female is insulted on my land. It's quite disappointing that none of you intervened."
They looked like school children who were scolded by their favourite teacher, heads down and expressions solemn.
"Take John to the infirmary," he added, "tell him to come see me tonight."
A chorus of "yes, Sire" echoed in the clearing.
Irene was standing with Corbin and Vanessa, looking worried. Her relief was apparent when I sent her a quick smile. I waved at the trio and caught up with Arthur.
"So it's okay to insult men on your land?" I asked, walking into step beside him.
He glanced at me in amusement, "call me old fashioned if you want, but women and children are sacred. They're the basis of every society's well being. I will not tolerate anyone belittling them."
He must be very disappointed in Jesse, then. We passed by a few people on the trail back to the house. They all nodded at Arthur with a smile or greeted him warmly.
"What deal were you talking about?" I asked him when we approached the house.
"Martin Malone."
***
Arthur's office on the second floor of the house was cozier than expected. The wood panels were dark, a rug covered the floor next to the fireplace where two large armchairs faced each other, and an entire wall was made up of shelves filled with all sorts of books. A black leather couch and a wooden coffee table occupied the space in front of the library, and a glass wall behind a large vintage oak desk.
I sat on the armchair beside the crackling fireplace. Arthur had given me a laptop, opened the Order's database on it and took a seat behind his desk, reading over some papers.
It took me a while to gather my courage and type in Martin Malone's name.
He was the leader of a mercenary unit of immortals who'd killed uncle Robert eleven years ago. It had been their last task.
All I knew about them was the information I'd memorized from their I.Ds before I burned everything down. I had looked for them in every possible database available for humans and headhunters. Every single one of them had the same details, they were simple mercenaries, guns for hire, and did whatever was asked of them for a good sum of money. Murder, theft, kidnapping... anything. Martin Malone had been their leader for the past twenty years.
All the databases showed records of their crimes, up until the year they disappeared. Then nothing. There was no mention of who had hired them, no possible ties, nothing.
I typed in Martin Malone on the laptop. The file that popped up was a record of his life, ever since he was born three hundred years ago. Compared to other sources I'd checked in the past, the Order's records were much more detailed.
I scrolled through the years. It took me a while to reach the year when they were killed. And when I did, hope made me hold my breath. It wasn't a blank space. I leaned closer to the laptop.
He'd traveled alone to Europe for six days earlier that year. Two days in Paris, then four days in Dublin, Ireland.
Ireland. My blood ran cold. It couldn't be. Did they suspect something?
I focused back on the laptop. His bank records showed several hefty payments being deposited into an account he had under another alias. His movements inside the country, though, were rarely recorded. The last thing listed was a credit card use in Oregon. I looked at the date. That was a few weeks before he came with his unit to find us.
A shiver ran down my spine. My eyes kept darting to his trip to Ireland. According to his history of travel, it wasn't odd. He travelled a lot around the world.
Except that the british isles, specifically Ireland, were the home of the fae.
Fisting my hands to keep them from trembling, I glanced at Arthur. He was engrossed in whatever was in those documents. Should I take a chance? He already knew I wasn't human and he knew I was interested in Martin Malone, so it wouldn't reveal more than he already suspected.
"Arthur?"
He looked up, the impact of those dark eyes as unsettling as ever, "yes?"
"What do you know about Malone?"
"Everything in there and then some."
"Some?"
He leaned back, staring like he had a way of doing. It was a long moment before he spoke.
"He was a soldier in Burak's army for a few decades," he said. Burak was one of the Five. Arthur continued, "he left because he didn't like following the rules. About two decades ago, he joined a mercenary unit of immortals. He climbed up the ladder to be their leader in a couple of years. Eleven years ago he disappeared with his unit. They were last sighted in a small town in Oregon."
"Why were they there?"
He smiled, "I think you know more about that than I do, Elle."
Damn it. I had to ask upright, he wasn't going to volunteer any information. I took a leap of faith.
"Do you know who was the last person who hired them?"
"Someone in Europe," Arthur replied, "I've been looking into it ever since George told me about your interest in Malone. But since I gave you my word yesterday, I stopped."
I didn't answer. This was tricky, if I released him from his word, he would resume his digging. He might discover things that I didn't want him to be aware of, or worse, his search could alert the wrong people, make them suspicious.
"Should I resume my search?" he asked.
I shook my head, "no."
He chuckled, "ah, too bad."
I rolled my eyes.
Looking through the database some more proved useless, I tried the names of the other men and women who were with Malone that day. But nothing jumped at me.
I groaned, hitting the back of my head against the chair and then wincing. It was still a bit sore from where I'd hit Jesse's nose. I rubbed it and glared at Arthur.
"Who knows the reason why the Order hired me? Other than you and Charles?"
"Only my seconds," Arthur replied.
I sighed. The number of people who knew I wasn't a normal human was getting larger, and I could do nothing about it. A week earlier, there was no one who even suspected I was anything other than a regular human headhunter. Now...
A scratching at the door. Arthur glanced at it and it opened. Right. Telekinesis. I kept forgetting.
Wes padded in, the door closed quietly behind him. The big dog stopped, looked at me, then at Arthur, his eyes conflicted. I bit back a smile.
He made his decision when Arthur opened a drawer and pulled out a box of snacks. The vampire threw one in the air. Wes snatched the bone shaped delicacy into his jaws and walked to sit by my feet, happily munching.
"Good boy," I scratched his head.
"First my soldiers, now my dog..." Arthur said.
I raised a brow, "what?"
He waved his hand away, lips slightly curled up at the corners, "I arranged for the training session to be this afternoon, is that okay with you?"
"Sure," I shrugged, "wait, you didn't tell me why you want me to train them."
"You're a good fighter."
Nice try. I narrowed my eyes on him. "You already have good fighters, plenty of them, why not ask them?"
He scratched his stubbled jaw, "but none like you. You're small, you do not have much raw strength compared to the average immortal, but you're an amazing fighter. You also move so damn fast for someone who's neither a vampire nor a shapeshifter."
In other words, even though I looked weak, I wasn't. Was that a compliment or not? I was confused.
"And you haven't been trained the way everyone else has," Arthur added, "it's good for them to be aware of different fighting techniques. They don't always get to count on their superior strength or magic. You'll have a small group of junior soldiers to begin."
I nodded, relieved. Limiting the number of soldiers was a good move on his part, considering we didn't know how some of them would react to being ordered around by a human. A small group would be easier to manage.
"There's something I'm curious about," he said.
I bet there was. "What?"
He cocked his head to the side, "why not a sword? I know for a fact you would be exceptional with a sword."
I looked down at Wes. He was lying with his head on his paws, staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace. How could I tell Arthur that even holding a sword brought back memories that belonged in the depth of the night. If those memories chased me even in my waking moments, I didn't know how I'd be able to function.
"I no longer have my sword," I stood up, "it was custom made, and I don't feel comfortable handling anything else."
There. That wasn't a complete lie. Arthur stared back mutely, then after a long moment, he nodded, "the training session will be held in the woods, Charles will take you there."
Wes followed me as I walked out of the office. The house was empty, and when I peeked out the front door, there was no one around. This time of the day everyone was busy.
The perfect time for me to take care of some business.
"Come on, Wes."
I went to my room, stripped off the bed sheets, the comforter cover and the pillow cover. The scorch marks were still there. Hopefully, no one had seen them so far.
I sneaked out of the house with my bundle, Wes trailing after me with canine enthusiasm. My luck held and I didn't meet anyone. When I was deep enough in the woods, I picked a spot, fished out my daggers and started digging. After a few seconds of sniffing around, Wes began doing the same.
"Good boy, Wes."
In no time at all we had the evidence of my fiery loss of control buried underground. I made sure to cover the freshly turned earth with leaves and forest debris. When I was done, it blended seamlessly with the surrounding ground.
Then I took Wes for a long walk and played fetch with him. He was so big that he knocked me over a few times, but it felt so good to let loose. To just play and forget everything that went so wrong so fast with my life.
Playing with a dog in the forest felt like coming home. No humans, no immortals. Peaceful.
Around midday, I started hearing distant sounds and voices. People were going for lunch. Wes and I headed to Arthur's house. That was where Irene and I would have our meals for the time being. I didn't know if it would stay that way when I moved into the isolated cabin.
Well, it wasn't like I was staying here for a long time, only until the killer was found.
My peaceful state of mind only lasted so far, though. I got into the house, expecting to see the usual faces. As soon as I walked in, I knew I had made a mistake in dropping my guard down.
Arthur, Amanda, and Harvey were in the living room. But my eyes went immediately to the unfamiliar face.
A witch. Long, willowy legs, a slender body encased in a black, fitted dress, a curtain of glossy light brown hair and bored blue eyes staring at me.
"A human," she said in a tone as nonchalant as she looked. Wes, still by my side, growled low in his throat. She dismissed him with a glance before those arctic eyes were back on me, "I didn't know you kept pets, Arthur."
I had a very strong feeling she wasn't referring to Wes. Her accent only made her words more unbearable. It wasn't american, but somewhere from Europe.
Right then, Irene walked into the house. She stopped next to me, her gaze on the witch.
"Oh, it keeps getting better. You've been keeping secrets, Arthur?"
Arthur stirred from where he'd been watching the scene unfold on his comfy armchair, his eyes more frosty than usual, "I didn't realize I need to keep you updated on my life, Poline."
His condescending tone failed to mask the threat in his voice. The witch was smart enough to recognize it too, because she gave Arthur a smile that must have put men to their knees.
"Of course not, I'm just curious as to why a human would be in the heart of your territory," she looked me up and down, "I would've guessed she was a fleeting bedmate, but she doesn't seem like your type."
"Thank goodness for that," I mumbled. Amanda's cough sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Harvey patted her back, his face brimming with amusement. Arthur merely arched his brow at me, I raised mine back.
"Actually, Poline," Amanda said, "this is Irine, she's an agent of the Order, and Elle, a headhunter who had been recently targeted by the serial killer we've been discussing."
Amanda stood up and walked towards us. She put her arms around Irene and I and guided us to the kitchen, "come on, girls, I'm sure you're starving."
I felt Poline's gaze on my back until we got into the kitchen. Irene and I sat at the island.
"Who's she?" Irene whispered.
"An envoy from a coven in Europe," Amanda replied in a low voice while putting food in Wes' bowl.
Amanda then took out two plates from a warming drawer and set them in front of us with cutlery. Steak, baked vegetables and rice. It smelled divine and tasted even better.
Amanda leaned on the counter across from us and watched us eat like a satisfied mother. "Don't mind her too much," Amanda whispered, "she's like that with everyone."
I shrugged.
"I guess the rumors are true," Irene said, "immortals from Europe are a bit more pompous than the rest."
Amanda chuckled, "right. Although the rumor is mainly caused by the fae. Especially their elite. They're not the most humble. But even they have exceptions. There are good people among them, too."
I forced my hand to move, hoping nothing showed on my face. Irene and Amanda went on to discuss the junior soldiers. Fortunately, they didn't ask me anything until I was able to swallow past the knot in my throat. Arthur, Harvey and Poline were conversing in the living room, their voices heard but words indiscernible.
The front door opened again.
"Ah, here comes Charles and Jesse," Amanda said, looking over our shoulders. The two men walked in, one as gloomy and brooding as the other. Amanda had them sitting across the island from us with a plate of food for Jesse and a glass of blood for Charles. Then she went back to join the others in the living room, her heels clicking away.
"When you're done, we're going down to the city," Charles said, his eyes watching Irene's every move with fixated blue eyes.
"Yes, your majesty," Irene said after swallowing, her smile as deadly as the glint in her eyes.
I looked up when I felt Jesse's gaze on me. He glared as soon as his eyes met mine. I smiled sweetly, "how's the nose?"
His nose looked just fine, but it must've really hurt because his eyes flashed a bright green and a low growl, that did not come from Wes, filled the kitchen.
After that we kept quiet until we finished eating. Then Jesse stood up, put his plate in the dishwasher and turned to me, "get your stuff, I'm taking you to your cabin."
I glanced at Charles, "I thought Charles was going to do that."
"Charles has better things to do."
Lovely. I smiled, "and you have nothing to do?"
"I do," he glared, "which is why the sooner you get the hell out of here the faster we can get back to our jobs."
Wow. He really knew how to charm a woman. My smile broadened, "I think I'll stick around just to be in your agreeable company every single day."
He stared at me for a long moment before leaving. Charles followed close behind him. Irene glanced at me, "you'll be fine?"
"Don't worry," I took my own plate and cutlery to the dishwasher, "he's just sore about getting knocked around. I can handle myself."
She left in a hurry. Wes trailed behind me. To get to my room, I had to pass through the living room. The four immortals paid me no mind, deep in a discussion about territories and the high council.
Since my belongings had been drastically decreasing ever since I came to this enchanting city, packing was a piece of cake. With my backpack on my shoulders, I walked out of the room. The living room was empty. They must have moved somewhere else.
"Come on, Wes, let's go see the grumpy cat."
Jesse was leaning on a tree, when I closed the front door behind me, he spared me a glance and walked into the woods.
"I guess he wants us to follow."
Wes barked, his tail wagging at the prospect of going on another walk. Jesse didn't take any of the existing trails. He led us deeper into the woods, where the thick and heavy overgrowth hinted that no one ventured this way. Rabbits and other small critters peeked out here and there. The trees got bigger, their trunks wider. I wondered how old they were?
It took us a while, but eventually we reached our destination. I gaped at the small cabin. It looked as if it was built from the tree itself.
"Put your stuff inside," Jesse said, "I'll take you to where the training session will be held."
I went in, Wes sniffed here and there. The cabin was really small. It was basically one big room. A single bed pushed into one corner, a night stand next to it, a chest of four drawers. The kitchen was a small counter on the opposite side with a sink, a stove and a few cooking utensils. There was also a door where I guessed the bathroom would be.
The lamp on the ceiling worked, and there was running water. That was better than uncle Robert and I had growing up, so I didn't complain.
I put my backpack on the bed, checked my weapons and got out of the cabin. This time, Jesse walked beside me. I played fetch with Wes while walking. He wasn't particularly intimidated by Jesse, but he didn't go near him either. I didn't know whether it was due to Jesse's stellar personality, or to his being a cat.
"I have a question," Jesse said after a few minutes. I threw the stick and Wes went running after it, then glanced at Jesse.
"You called me a cat earlier," he said. I realized I did when we were fighting. Where was he going with this? His next question made it clear.
"How did you know I was a feline shapeshifter?"
-------------
So, how did you like badass Elle? Any thoughts?
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Love,
Mia <3