The scent of bacon wafts into my nostrils as I step out of the bathroom, my hair wet and my towel clenched around my body. My stomach grumbles at the possibility of a delicious breakfast and I hurry into my room to dress. I assume Lost is making breakfast, but I wonder about her mood. Last night was crazy and there were a lot of mixed feelings.
When I finish patting my hair dry I walk out to the kitchen and find Lost at the stove. She's facing away from me and I can see her scars peeking out from under her tank top around the back of her neck and shoulders. They don't bother me as much as they used to and I would actually like to know how she got some of them, if she's willing to share. She's clearly not ashamed of them, at least not the way she was when we first met.
"Your plate's right there," she says without turning around.
I sit at the island and bring the steaming plate there towards me. There's bacon, eggs, and French toast displayed deliciously. "Thank you," I tell her sincerely. "This looks great."
Lost clicks off the burner and places the last of the bacon on a napkin covered plate before turning to me. She fishes out forks from a drawer beside her then hands me one. "Syrup? Ketchup?"
"Just syrup, thank you."
She fetches the syrup bottle and drops it beside my plate. Then she fills a plate of her own and puts it on the island with the plate of extra bacon and slices of French toast. "To drink?" she asks, opening the fridge.
I study her for a moment, intrigued by how happy she is, how calm and levelheaded. "Apple juice," I request, watching her pull it out smoothly before retrieving a glass cup for me. "How are you feeling?"
As she pours, she says, "Lovely. Just... lovely." A tiny smile quirks her lips and her expression is nothing less than joyous.
I bob my head and start in on my food as she sits beside me and pulls her plate to herself. Last night she thanked me for letting her kill that man, our target, and now she's acting like she received the present she's always wanted. There's no way she enjoyed killing that much. Then again, she was almost having a fit of ecstasy when she pulled her bloody lips away from the target. I can still see in my mind the way she tipped her head back delightedly and licked the red from her lips as if it were candy.
"How are you feeling?" Lost asks worriedly. "You're... feeling something."
I place my fork down and turn to her, suddenly determined. "Last night," I say seriously. "Did you like what you did to that man?"
She places her fork down, too, and glances at me from the corner of her eye. "Yes," she admits.
The way she had been acting before this- the micro aggressions and strange behaviors- are at the forefront of my mind, and how she's not doing those things now. "Is that why you were acting so edgy before? Because you wanted to kill someone?"
Lost whips her head to me, her eyes pinched. "No! I mean, well." She sucks her lips into her mouth and averts her eyes. "I just... I just... needed to do something," she blurts out. "I was made to act, and you weren't using me. So I grew... agitated. Last night helped me release some of that pent up agitation. I enjoyed it, yes, but I wasn't aching to kill."
The sheer honesty in her admission has me believing her, and I refocus on my breakfast. It's delicious, not that I expected it to be anything less, but my thoughts are on how I'm going to keep Lost's intense energy levels in check. It's not every day that we have to go out in a mission. It's not even every week. Sometimes there's months between jobs, and that's way too long, clearly.
A knock at the door catches my attention as I sip at my apple juice, and Lost gets out of her seat before I can react. She listens at the door for half a second before opening it, and she fills the doorway protectively.
"Hey," Mariam's voice floats in. "Kahlan?"
Lost relaxes and allows Mariam entrance to our apartment, then she goes back to her breakfast happily. I scoot my plate away and spin in my stool to face Mariam. "What do you need?"
"Actually, it's what you need," she says, holding out a little box. "Guess who got your mail."
I take the offered box. "Thanks."
"No problem. Having breakfast?"
"Yeah. Want some?" I ask as I open the box.
"No, but thanks."
I hum as I take out a sleek black cell phone, a car key, two passports, and a credit card. I hold the items and look to Mariam for an explanation. Obviously I know what each item is for, but Mariam would know more about this care package.
"Looks like you're official," she says with a smile. Then she points to the phone. "All the contacts you need should be in there if it's like mine."
I start up the phone and wait for it to load. If Mariam's right, then I can call the clean up crew on my own if necessary, and ring up the General immediately if I need to.
"The key's to an SUV like mine, and there's no limit on the card. The passports are obvious. Though it's rare we fly commercial. Secret government planes, and all."
The phone blinks and a home screen flashes, then the device starts buzzing to alert of an incoming call. It's the General. Mariam gives me a halfhearted salute then leaves to allow me to answer in peace. I swipe at the phone's screen then put it up to my ear. "Hello?"
"Good," the General says as a greeting. "You got the package."
"The card really has no limit?"
"Don't buy anything too large. You live in an apartment downtown, Kahlan. Don't buy past your means."
I smirk and nibble on my bacon. "I won't."
"Good. Now, about last night's venture. Mariam already gave me her opinion on it all, as did Cas, though I didn't ask for it."
"And?"
"It seems the kinks have been worked out. Mariam says everything was done quietly and efficiently. Do you agree?"
"I agree."
"Do you think Lost can handle bigger outings? Stealthier outings?"
My eyes roll to Lost, who's surprisingly already finished her breakfast, and all the extras, and is now washing the dishes. I don't know if she's ready for harder targets, but she definitely needs the challenge. If that's the only thing that will keep her from getting agitated then I have to go with it, at least until I find a better solution.
"She's ready," I say, eyes still on Lost. She's turned to me and is smiling, her hands wet, droplets falling from her fingertips to the floor. She runs a watery hand through her hair and cocks a hip, waiting.
"Then remain on call. We'll find something that will properly make use of Lost's gifts. And don't plan on Mariam and Cas to accompany you," he adds. "Your first solo is the real test."
"Yes, sir."
"Never miss a call from this mobile." Then he hangs up without a parting. I expect nothing less and set down the phone beside the empty box it came in, and sigh. This all seemed better as thought. Now that I'm actually here, as a caretaker, I can understand why Mariam was always so feisty when it came to Cas. This isn't easy. Just last night's little excursion was hard to swallow. Does Mariam see every kill? Does Cas take care of her targets in creative fashions, too?
"Do you mind being alone with me?" Lost asks suddenly.
I look up at her and bring my plate back to myself, wanting to finish my food before it gets too cold. "What do you mean? We're alone right now."
"Yes, I know," she says, leaning back into the counter and shamelessly letting her tank top ride up a little. She looks so relaxed, so loose. It's unusual. "But when we're out. Do you mind being only with me? Last night you had Mariam and Cas as distractions. Next time you won't have them."
As nice as it was to have Mariam with me last night, I'm fairly certain I can handle myself without her. But then I notice the unsure look on Lost's face and realize that she's more worried about me having to deal with her alone. When she said Mariam and Cas were distractions, she meant distractions from her.
"You weren't... pleased with my methods last night," she goes on, softly. "I felt it."
I swallow my mouthful of food and follow it with a swig of juice. Then I wipe my mouth with my hand and sigh. "I've never seen something like that," I admit. "I didn't know how to feel. I still don't. But you did your job and I'm happy with that."
Lost is silent for a moment before shifting her weight and pulling down the hem of her tanktop. "Do you feel safe with me?"
That's a loaded question. To an extent, yes, I feel safe with Lost, but there are moments when I just don't. As soon as her muscles bunch and she gives me that look, my skin crawls and I can't help but feel like she may attack me at moment. She has yet to, which is a good thing, but what if she does one day? I absolutely trust her to protect me from outside forces when I need it, yet I don't know if I can trust her to protect me from herself.
"It's not that easy," I eventually tell her. I don't want to lie to her, but I don't want to make her feel bad by saying no.
She fidgets slightly and barely looks at me. "I would never hurt you."
"No, I know," I say, believing it just enough to almost convince myself it's entirely true.
"You can tell your boss you can't work with me," Lost says. "If that's how you feel."
"I can work with you, and I will. We're in this together."
"If you ever feel otherwise..."
I stand and pick up my plate to take it to the sink. "I'll be sure to tell you if I feel anything other than what I do now." My plate goes into the sink and I turn to Lost. "But you have to promise to tell me if you feel differently, too. If we're going to work together well, communication is key."
Lost's eyes roam over my face and she takes a step toward me, and I realize how close she's made us. Not claustrophobically close, but enough that I could touch her with half of my arm's full extension. And, for once, Lost isn't looking at me like she might pounce, and I'm not scared.
She sniffs the air and her eyes lighten the barest. "I promise," she vows.
-------------------------
The temporary reprieve of violence that my first mission afforded me slowly ebbed away over the next two or so weeks. But the relaxed attitude that took me over allowed me to get closer to Kahlan than ever before. She didn't get scared when I got a little too close, but she doesn't seem to understand that I ache to touch her, even innocently. She never touched me, in any way. In fact, she seemed to take great care not to, and I didn't understand why. When I gulped in her presence or offered my services in any way possible, I just wanted to be near her, to catch her scent, to gaze at her beautiful red locks. I wanted to fill the need that her lack of touch caused.
It's not all bad, though. Now I'm certain that Kahlan trusts me a little more, even if there is still a smidge of doubt in her. I think she's waiting for me to snap or possibly jump her when she least expects it. I won't, but I understand why she would feel that way. I was too tense to be around before and me snapping was a slight possibility. But that's not the case anymore. I've calmed dramatically and am perfectly safe to be near.
I tuck my feet under my butt for warmth and hum as I channel surf on the newest addition to the apartment- a television. It's probably the best addition we could get since it gives me something to do and distracts me when I get too anxious. It also keeps me in one spot when Kahlan wants to go out and have some time to herself. I don't know what she does, but she comes back in a good mood. Sometimes her hair is done or she has some kind of sweet for me. It says a lot that she's willing to leave me alone and I truly appreciate the show of trust. Though I know she asks Emma, Cas, or Mariam to keep an eye on the apartment to see if I leave as a precaution if she's going to be gone for a long time, as is the case today.
"Here's the popcorn," Emma says cheerily, plopping down next to me on the couch. She's been asked by Kahlan to watch me today, much to the chagrin of Cas, who was called for duty about three hours ago and still isn't back. Mariam's gone, too, with Cas. Emma didn't even have to see me, but she came over, saying she was finished with her school work and was bored.
"Thank you," I tell her, eyes on the television screen. There was supposed to be a documentary on tonight about the second world war that I wanted to see but I can't find it. I didn't get out much then and want to know what I missed.
"I think it's on the history channel," Emma says, knowing what I'm looking for.
"I already checked," I mumble, starting to frown.
"Then maybe it's not on yet."
I hum, disgruntled. Perhaps I've missed the documentary already and am wasting time. If that's the case, then oh well. I did want to see it but I was really hoping that it'd be over by the time Kahlan got home and I could give her some fun facts.
"You're funny," Emma chuckles softly.
"I haven't done anything."
"No, I mean... Nothing. I can't believe Cas doesn't want me around you. You're so nice."
I stop trying to find the documentary and shrug. "She doesn't like me much."
Emma grunts and rolls her eyes. "She doesn't like anyone much."
"She likes you," I point out. There's some type of cartoon on the TV, with talking animals in pants. Modern entertainment sure has gotten strange, but amusing.
"She didn't like me at first," Emma says, moving beside me to get more comfortable. "Maybe she'll like you eventually, too."
I chuckle at the little octopus in trousers and settle the popcorn Emma made in my lap and pop a salty kernel in my mouth. "I don't want her to like me the way she likes you," I say. The octopus gets his tentacles tangled and I chuckle again. "I'm not sure Kahlan would like that, either, or you. You're monogamous, yes?"
"Yes, but that's not what I meant. Wait, you're really that cool with polyamory?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" A bunny with pink underwear and a bad attitude helps her octopus friend free himself from, well, himself.
"I don't know. It's sort of taboo..."
Emma's voice trails off and the bunny and octopus on screen suddenly shift out of focus. My ears prick at an unusual noise a floor down and I abandon the popcorn on the coffee table in favor of trying to figure out why my skin is crawling. An eerie feeling makes me shiver, and I recognize the sensation as an alert.
Something dangerous is happening in my home.
"Lost?" Emma says, her voice seeping into my skull.
I quickly stand and jog out of the apartment, leaving a flabbergasted Emma behind. My footsteps are quiet as I run to the stairwell, skipping the elevator since running would be faster, and I hop down the first flight, just missing Hakeem's head.
"Whoa!" he exclaims, leaning back into the stairs behind him and dropping the notebook in his lap. "That was awesome!"
I turn to him before jumping the next few stairs and say, "Go home. Things are going to get wild." Then I throw myself down the stairs to the floor where I heard the disturbance and run on. The hall on this floor is empty and I slow to better listen.
"Hey!"
I turn at Hakeem's voice and frown at him. "I told you to go home."
He runs to me then stops, breathing fast. "What's going on?"
My ears twitch, the noise that made my skin crawl before sounding again. I leave Hakeem and sprint to the apartment. Hakeem has followed me, moving his short legs as fast as they can go. "Who lives here?" I ask him, looking down at the scratched up lock. It's been picked.
"Um," he breathes, scrunching his nose. "That guy, I think his name is Carl. He's always alone. His wife is in the army or something."
A crash makes Hakeem jump and his eyes widen. "Stay here," I tell him sternly. Then I enter the apartment, shutting the door behind me simply so Hakeem won't try to follow me.
It's dark, and there's a television droning on somewhere, a soft scuffling coming from one of the bedrooms as an undertone. Growling, I make my way to the bedroom and peek inside. There's a dark figure hunched over on the large bed inside, a man in boxers beneath him, both of them fighting for dominance. I push open the door fully and leap at the intruder to send him stumbling to the floor. He grunts as I land on top of him, and I yank and prod him until he's flopping on his stomach with his arm held behind him.
"These are my people," I snarl. Kahlan brought me here to protect this building, among other things, and I take the job very seriously. "Harm them and I harm you."
The man in the boxers coughs and starts calling for help, scrambling out of bed and running out of the room. The slight distraction has me looking away and I find an elbow jammed just under my chin, making me bite my tongue. I hunker down over the intruder, grabbing his offending elbow, and lay his arm down straight. Pressing my knee against his bicep, I grab his hand and tug upwards, snapping his arm at the elbow in one swift motion. He cries out, shrill and frightened, and wriggles fiercely beneath me.
"Lost!" I barely hear Emma shriek.
I turn my head towards her, holding tightly to the intruders broken arm. Emma takes a startled step back but doesn't flee like I thought she would.
"K-kahlan's on her way. Don't..."
My hand grasps the back of the intruder's head and I press his face into the carpet to silence him and his ugly sobs. "These are my people," I growl at Emma. "I protect my own."
Emma nods as if she understands, then she wets her lips nervously. "I get that, and you have protected your people. The man that lives here? He's fine. You did that."
"I did," I agree, pushing the intruder's face harder into the carpet. My knee on his bicep grows heavier, and I'll probably break his arm again if I'm not careful.
"You did. So why don't you come back home now? Kahlan will be expecting you."
I hesitate, not wanting to disappoint Kahlan. But the intruder attempted to take one of mine and that won't go unpunished. "I will bring her his head," I tell Emma.
"No, no!" Emma pleads. "Wait, just... Uhm... Look, look! Kahlan's here!"
Hands already firmly gripping the sides of the intruder's head, I look up to find Kahlan staring at me, her hair slightly wind blown and her breathing faster than usual. "Lost?" she implores, her eyes flicking to the twisted arm I caused.
"He tried to hurt one of mine," I explain. "When you first asked me here, you told me I'd have a new neighborhood to protect. I'm doing it."
Kahlan licks her lips and glances behind her. "That's good. Really good. But we need to go home, okay?"
I let go of the intruders head but remain sitting on top of him. His sobs have turned to pained groans. "And him?"
"The police will be here in a few minutes. You can't be here when they arrive. I'll take care of everything, so please go home."
Narrowing my eyes, there's only a moment's hesitation before I stand and leave the intruder on the floor. He moans but doesn't try to get up. "I don't want you near him," I tell Kahlan boldly, my anger making me defiant.
Kahlan looks surprised, her eyebrows shooting up, and my boldness suddenly seeps away, replaced with meek apology. "Wait for me at home," Kahlan says instead of scolding me.
I nod and walk out of the bedroom. The man in the boxers, the one who lives here, I guess, is sitting in the living room with a phone held tightly in his hands. A red mark is already forming around his throat and he's shaking. When he looks up at me as I pass his mouth opens but no sound comes out. I nod at him politely and leave his place, going to go home like Kahlan told me to.
"Are you okay?" Hakeem asks, his face pale. He must have been waiting out here, listening to all the commotion.
Sirens echo outside the building and I lead Hakeem to the stairwell entrance with me. "Fine. Why didn't you go home?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Your friend came looking for you, all scared. It made me scared."
I start ascending the stairs, going slow so Hakeem can keep up with me. "It would make me scared if you got hurt. Go home next time."
"You think there's going to be a next time?"
I sigh, opening the stairwells door to our floor and letting Hakeem go through first. "There's always a next time," I tell him sadly.