WHEN DEVORA'S FIST made contact with the punching bag, she did not recoil sharply like she did when she had first started her training. Instead, she kept on going, pummeling the bag as if she was venting all of her frustrations into that lifeless object. It swung from the ceiling it was hung, swaying back and forth slightly due to the force of her actions but never enough to hit the other people in the gym.
It seemed to be something most of the organization's agents did, anyway. More often than not, the gym would serve as an outlet to vent one's vexations rather than to build and train their own body. That was another silent agreement between all agents.
"Calm down," a familiar mocking voice echoed into the room. "The bag is going to burst if you keep going at it like that. If it does, you're cleaning up."
Devora sucked in a sharp breath, preparing herself for another strike. Instead of allowing her fist to make contact with the punching bag, she spun out her feet instead in a last-minute kick. It was, however, directed at the speaker. The latter dodged easily, avoiding Devora's surprise attack as if she had foreseen it from miles away. Fluidly, she dropped down to the floor, kicking out her leg and using it to swipe at Devora's feet. Just like that, Devora had lost her balance, kissing the ground in an embarrassing thud.
"Getting sloppy, Evans."
"Cut me some slack, Candice," Devora groaned as Candice chuckled merrily. The former raised a hand, covering her face with her bandaged palm. "You're the reigning queen of those monthly competitions. Taking you down with my level of experience is as ludicrous as... as asking Nathan to drop down on one knee and propose this very second. Ridiculous and impossible."
"Actually, if it was to you, I think he just might do it," a new voice humored, causing Devora to peek through the gaps between her fingers.
Leah wore a cheeky smile as she approached, her smile bright and witty.
"Don't plant ideas into her head, Leah," Candice light-heartedly chastised. "She might just fall hopelessly in love with our darling Nathaniel. And like I always say, this place isn't a good one for love to bloom."
Devora raised a brow, silently urging Candice to continue with her explanation when she stayed silent for a second too long. Candice's smile grew heavy, grim, and even a little dark. The corners no longer lifted as easily and it instead fell back down until her lips were almost a thin, straight line.
"And why?" Leah prompted out loud.
"There's too much death in these walls," came Candice's haunting reply. Then, she brightened up like a flower under beaming rays of glorious golden sunlight, as if all the despondency from before was nothing but a farce. "It's not very auspicious."
"It's hard to find love here anyway," Leah spoke between gritted teeth, biting down on her hair tie as she pulled the strands of her hair into a ponytail. When she finally fixed her hairstyle, she sighed, shaking her head with a disappointed shrug. "Everyone here looks old as hell."
"Oh, don't let Dallas hear that. His poor fragile maiden heart might not be able to take it," Candice chortled. Shaking her head, she diverted her attention back to Devora, her shoulders heaving up and down as she took in a deep breath before letting it out. "Honestly, Devora, I hope you have the eyes to see things clearly. Nathan... It's so obvious that he will move mountains for you."
Devora was about to deny it, to shrug it off like they were wrong but Leah quickly interjected before she could say anything in opposition.
"It's obvious, Devora, really," the younger girl insisted. "We girls don't miss it when a look like that appears before our eyes. In his, you're the only one that exists."
"Mm." Making a sound of agreement, Candice nodded. "He's brave enough to do something the rest of us assassins don't dare to. It's hard to put your heart out there when you have such a dangerous job. He loves us all dearly as his friends, that I know without a doubt, but the look he holds for you and the affection he shows... I don't really know how to explain it but..."
"It's different," Leah finished the sentence for Candice.
"We're just friends," Devora insisted.
"For now," Candice vaguely answered. She then gestured to Leah, nodding towards the set of target boards set up across the room for practice. "Think about what we said, Devora. I know things have been rough between you both the last couple of months but Nathan... he truly means well. We, on the other hand, can't stay here and chat with you for too long. We still have some training to do."
"Training?" Devora echoed. "You really think that Leah should be back on the field so quickly? She just killed someone in front of a whole stadium filled with people. That's not easy to bounce back from mentally."
Instantly, the mood between the three girls soured. Leah had a frown that distorted her facial features, making her lips curl into a sneer and the skin between her eyebrows was wrinkled. Displeased, she folded her arms across her chest, scowling.
"Rich, coming from you. My brother told me what happened. You just returned from a mission, coming out of it with your hands redder than when you started. Aren't you here training as well?" She took a step closer to Devora just as the latter stood up, glaring. "Just like what you told Dallas and Travis, you didn't know me back then. Not well enough to know whether this kill is something I can or cannot bounce back from quickly."
With those words spoken, Leah knocked her shoulder against Devora's, sauntering past her in a trail of flames towards the area meant for target practice. She picked up a few of the silver knives prepared on the table, solemnly polishing each and every blade she intended to use as preparation.
Beside Devora, Candice clicked her tongue in disapproval.
"Very hypocritical of you, Devora. She's old enough to make decisions for herself, you know?"
"I know, I know. It's just... Leah just lost her younger sister. A death that was indirectly caused by the same man that made her a killer." Exasperated, Devora rubbed at her cheeks. She reached for her belongings which were scattered around the punching bag, pulling the pack across her shoulder. "I don't want her to become what I—" she cut herself off. The image of Liam Pine dead on the ground, bullet holes in his body, seared through Devora's mind with a chill. "I just don't want her to become a cold-blooded machine gun. The very same that I almost became."
"You nearly became a perfect assassin, my perfect student." There was a soft smile on Candice's face but her expression was anything but joyful. "But it wasn't you."
"Exactly."
From where she stood, Devora could see that each knife that Leah had thrown had hit its mark perfectly. No fault was observable. Without a doubt, she had become the perfect little assassin. Hopefully, the cruelty didn't come attached to the lethality.
Devora exhaled loudly, her eyes lingering after Leah's precise attacks.
"She's your partner now. Take care of her? I have a feeling that though we're all friends, she listens to you more. Sometimes, it seems to me like you're like an older sister she never had."
"I will." Candice nodded.
Sparing Candice a parting smile, Devora darted for the doors. The sound of sharp silver puncturing into the wooden dummies still rang in her ears even after her departure.
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