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The Assassin Ch. 00

By: phoenixsky



All characters are over 18 if you don't like hot sex or are not 18, please leave now...

Assassin (The Prelude)

I talk to you, maybe once or twice a month. We cross paths on ambulance calls more than anything. We are friends, but not best friends. I know I could call you for anything, anytime. You're just a good guy like that.

I've known you more than 10 years. The first time I saw you, you had walked into the firehouse and I thought, he's hot. Not only were you hot, but there was just something about you, I really wanted to get to know. Then you opened your mouth and I was devastated. You were such an ass hole . What a waste. I left that fire department about a year after that and went to another one on the south side of the county. I didn't see you for a few years.

Present day, we have been talking a lot more. You work full time nights, so a lot of times if I am online at night you pop on. I had been thinking about getting my nipples re pierced . I asked you to take me to get them redone. I love my body modifications. It's just the lead up to getting them that freaks me out a bit. I need someone to hold my hand. With six tattoo's and multiple holes, you would think I would have the hang of this by now. My nipples aren't very sensitive. I loved my nipples pierced. They become constantly tingly and warm. Getting them pierced opened up a whole new sexual world for me. I was always turned on.

Anyway, back to the story. It's Friday evening. You came to the house, to pick me up. I'm ready. I have been ready for weeks.

The truck. You have no idea. You will be hearing a lot about the truck. I can't even begin to describe this vehicle properly. Custom hot, custom sexy, with a custom bad boy. Inferno red and graphite gray, silver tribal with some of the best ghost flames I have ever seen. There's too many mechanical modifications to mention. The interior, yummy. The front seat is buttery soft, red and black suede. The kind you want to strip down naked to lie on to enjoy. The back seat, leather. It's rich, and just as soft as the suede. I have got to remember to wear a skirt next time I am in this beauty.

I look over watching you. You're wearing sunglasses, as usual. Even dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, you always looks put together. Your left arm is casually resting on the door and right hand is thrown over the steering wheel. Get you out one on one and the inner bad boy comes out. I get absolutely lost when it comes to you and your truck. Oh, if you had any idea. 

You admitted during one of our late night chats that you had yet to "break in the truck." 

I look over again. I wonder if you're even paying attention to me. Would you notice if I started to slowly strip my clothes off? Would you notice if I laid naked across the seats? I would love to let the suede caress my body. 

I have this uncontrollable urge to slide over, run my nails from the top of your shaved head, down to the base of your neck. I wonder, could I nuzzle and bite your earlobe? I work my way down and taste your neck. Meanwhile, my hand is gently and absently tracing a random pattern on the top of your thigh. Do you care? You are so stoic. I see the slightest flicker along your jaw line. I'm going to get reaction out of you if it kills me. I don't care. I work your neck, I bite down where your neck and shoulder meet. 

Good, that definitely got a physical response out of you. You've been hard, but I actually feel the energy surge beneath my fingers. There is the faintest trace of a smile playing across your lips.

I love a challenge, especially one that drives me crazy. I go back to the beginning and start nibbling the top of your ear. I graze down it with my teeth. I suck at your earlobe, using just the tiniest hint of teeth. I kiss, nibble and lick your neck. Even though you're not responding the way I would like you to, I am enjoying myself. I let the hand on your thigh creep and flirt with your hard cock. My hand goes back to your thigh as if it were an accident. Nothing, nothing at all. I almost burst out laughing. There is absolutely no question that this can be played off as an accident anymore. My sex is hot and throbbing, and I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't get any relief. My, soon to be pierced, nipples are tingling against the black lace of my bra. I am having trouble just thinking clearly, let alone planning my next move. It's all I can do not to stop bothering with you and start tending to my own needs. 

With a huge sigh of exasperation, I flop back onto my side of the seat. You haven't moved. I can't believe it. I stare out my window, not really seeing anything. I have to figure out something to say. I just royally screwed up our friendship. Since when did you become Mr. Morality? I don't know where we are, I don't really care to be honest. I just have to figure out some way to salvage my dignity. I don't even realize that we have come to a stop. I can't look at you right now. I'm trying to come up with a plausible, yet mildly ridiculous excuse about mixing my allergy medications. 

My head is pulled back quickly. Your fingers are tangled in my long curly hair. I gasp because it startles me. I feel a surge of adrenaline hit me. Crap, how bad did I piss you off? The very light touch of your lips graze my neck. Ever so slowly, you trace my neck toward my ear. The energy is radiating through you and is it's consuming me.

Your lips come to my ear and you whisper, "Breathe." 

I try to open my mouth, but can't get anything out. You bite down on the same spot that I got you. Your bite is harder than mine. My finger nails are digging into your back. All I can do is hold on as you unwittingly cause me to have to have a full body orgasm. You hold me, while it passes.

Your lips are at my ear again. "You just started something you can't finish."

You are way to pleased with yourself. I don't know whether to laugh or run. You have the advantage of upper body strength. I am at your will, especially considering the position we're in. I am, completely yours.

I don't think we're going to make my piercing appointment.

"You wanted attention? Don't worry, you have my complete attention," You say.

The next thing I realize, I am laying across the seat, looking up at you. There is an intense energy coming from your amazing blue eyes. I can't even blink, and you have divested me of my shirt. The black lace bra is not quite so easy.

"This thing is like Fort Knox" you grumble, frustrated but eventually you figure it out.

I laugh until you attack my neck again, and I can't catch my breath. Leave your mark on me. I don't care as long as you don't stop. I love your body laying on mine. You kiss down the center of my chest, working over to my right nipple. You nuzzle, lick and suck it. You nibble with your teeth. My normally, not so sensitive nipples are singing. You seem to take forever on just the right one. When I can't take anymore, you finally drift over to the other one. You tease and torture them. I'm almost glad when you decide to trail down my stomach. 

I laugh and would have come off of the seat, if you hadn't been laying on me. I can't believe you tickled my belly button with your tongue. You go down my stomach further. I try to slide across the seat to give you a little room. You mistake the movement for me trying to scoot away. You grab my waist and slide me back to where I was. You give me a quick look, and it takes you but a moment to pull off my pants and panties.

You throw my left leg over your shoulder, slide my right leg out, so you have complete access to me. I don't think I could stop you if I wanted to. Trust me when I say, I wouldn't have stopped you for anything. I feel my labia being nuzzled. Your thumbs gently rub my outer lips. I can't believe this is driving me so insane. Having already cum once, my entire pussy is hot, swollen and throbbing ready for more. I'm making desperate little noises. I can't believe how much pleasure you're getting out of torturing me. Finally, you part my outer lips ever so slightly. The velvet of your tongue barely grazes the inside of me. It's just a tease. The tip of your tongue whispers against my sex.

I moan in frustration. You are loving this too much. As you progress deeper, I am reaching my hips toward you like a wanton slut. I don't care. I can't take much more. Finally you move in to dip your tongue into my honey pot. Your tongue circles and dips. You thrust your tongue deep inside of me. I come off of the seat arching my back to meet you. Then, it's gone and I feel so empty. I raise my head up to protest, but before I can you have begun an assault on my clitoris that leaves me gasping for air. You're circling, stroking, teasing, assaulting my button. You ever so gently nip at it with your teeth. Everything has just become a swirl of colors. I'm trying to beg you to fuck me, to stop long enough to let me breath, anything. My body is a traitor, it's reacting to you all by itself. I'm writhing, on the magnificent truck seat. I'm yours, take me.

I can finally gasp the word, "Please" over and over. 

You give me just enough time to take half a breath. You bring a full attack and I absolutely just explode into one of the best orgasms of my life. The breath I was just able to manage, left me just as quickly. I scream you name over and over. I have no idea how long it takes for me to come off of that ecstasy. You're in a sitting up when I am finally aware of where I am, and who I am with. I am embarrassed with you watching me. I attempt to reach for my shirt to cover myself, and you pull it out of my hands. You make me meet your eyes and I am at ease.

Wow, you are still completely dressed. That's not going to work. I reach up and grab your shirt so I can sit up enough to get my hands under it and pull it over your head. I can't get to your shorts from here. You catch your shirt and wrap it over your hand, lean forward and tuck it under my head. You kneel on the seat and the shorts and boxers come off just as quickly.

I can't help but smile. You're as big as you claimed. Really, really large. It definitely makes me a little nervous. You can feel my apprehension, but I know you would never hurt me. Unless I wanted it of course. You reach down with one hand to lace your fingers with mine. Your fingers are long, your hands softer than mine. I feel so calm. I feel the head of your magnificent cock slowly spread my sex. I am still so very hot, and I am dripping wet. I want you. All of you, in me. I want you to make me scream your name again. I want to beg and scream until I lose my voice. You're taking your time trying not to hurt me, but all you're doing is driving me insane with lust. I reach up for your other hand. If you go any slower, I will go insane before your entire length is in me. If I can't have you now, I will die right here.

You definitely have the upper body strength. I, on the other hand have the leg strength. I love the look of surprise on your face as I use your hands to pull you into me enough for me to get my legs wrapped around you. I pull your long, hard cock deep into my wet ready pussy. I can feel your balls smack against my ass in that one quick motion. You pause just a moment. I need that second. I feel like a virgin again. It is so freaking incredible. I can feel every groove and vein. So very slowly, I am being wracked by incredible sensations, you begin to thrust. We move together like we were made to fit. It doesn't take long to pick up the pace. You make deeper and deeper thrusts. My nails are digging into your back.

"Open your eyes."

I'm startled by your voice, so commanding. I immediately open my eyes.

"You are only going to cum if I can see you cum."

I have never had anyone pay attention to me like this. You thrust deep in me. Crap, how did you get the advantage again? I have cum at least 3 times. I want you to cum. I need you to cum. I am doing everything possible to get you off before me. I am at a serious disadvantage without the use of my hands. I feel the waves of an impeding orgasm coming. I have to ignore them, but I can't. It's coming. I have to do something,anything.  I struggle with you so I can pull back enough to slow you down. You don't let me move an inch. I think it's a combination of struggling and you being so very determined that it sends me over the edge yet again. You don't pause even slightly. You just let go of my hands, and let me reach for you. 

I run my hands up and down your chest. I twist and pull your nipples, I run my nails down your chest. Another orgasm slams me. I sink my nails into your very tight ass cheeks and pull you into the very deepest part of me. I feel like I have been hit by a freight train. 

The final thrust is too much for you. I feel you swell then pump gallons of hot sticky sex deep within me. This keeps my orgasm rolling on waves for what seems like forever. You collapse on top of me. I don't know how long we lay there. A tangled web of limbs and sex.

When you can finally move and you pull out, I sit up so I can swallow your cock. I'm not wasting a single drop of good cum whether it's yours or mine. By the time I clean every last drop our juices off of your cock, you are getting hard again. I can't help but smile. It's my turn. This time you are on your back. I suck on your balls, to give you a few minutes to regroup. You don't need it. You already have cum bubbling out of your slit. I can't get enough of you. I work the head of your cock. I lick, suck and twirl my tongue stud around your head. I could do this for hours. I take your length deep into my mouth and throat. You have your eyes closed, head back against the drivers window. I need both hands and my mouth to handle you. Looking up at you, I pause, why should you have it this easy? I hold and lick the head, like I would a lolly pop. One lick at a time. You open your eyes to watch me, trying to figure out what I'm doing. I lick the cum off the top of your head. Yummy. I drag my tongue down the underside to your balls. I love they way they feel in my mouth. They roll around on my tongue. I suck them until you groan. 

The more frustrated you get, the slower I go. I can feel the blood pulsing through your thick member. You reach for my head and hair. Nope, I pull back. This is all mine.

I smile, because this time it's your hand grabbing the seat. It's you who are squirming and have no control. When I lean forward to suck your entire length down my throat, you are able to get a hold of my hair, damn it. I expect you to choke me on your massive length. I am pleasantly surprised, when your hand just hold onto my hair. You let me continue at my pace. I wrap both hands around the base of your rock hard, beautiful member. While I bob up and down on your cock, I swirl my tongue around the head. I increase the speed of my strokes. I take you deeper and deeper. Finally, I feel your pulse quicken, you swell even more and you explode in my mouth. You pump hot, sweet cum down my throat. I don't miss a drop. I am in heaven. I need more. I am addicted to you, this can't be the end...

Assassin Chapter 1 will be on the way shortly, hope you enjoy it. 

The Assassin Ch. 01



The cross hairs were aimed at his heart. 

She didn't normally aim for the heart, but this was personal. 

She was silent, one with her environment. Her pulse beat the same rhythm as the air around her. She was in the void and he was already dead. He just didn't know it yet.

She exhaled and squeezed the trigger, snatching a quick glimpse to see the bullet hit true.

Now the real game started.

She packed up her .223 rifle, snapped the case shut, strapped her gear-bag to her back and made her exit.

She had chosen a rooftop overlooking the square. 

She descended the stairs and entered the elevator. The assassin was counting the seconds in her head. It would take approximately 10 for the involved people to realise what had happened. The first thing they would do is mobilise the special ops unit, then they would phone the cops. She sighed inwardly.

The Police. So far she had not needed to kill any of them, in this city. It would them another 20 seconds to arrive and then 30 to pinpoint her building. That left her with 15 seconds to disappear once she cleared the building.

The assassin left the elevator and exited the building via the front door. The key was to act like you belonged. Nothing was out of place, everything was normal. She walked with measured steps toward the train station, her clothes aiding her unassuming appearance. All that tight leather and straps from the movies was, just that, from the movies.

No professional could do their job looking like a dominatrix.

She entered the station and took the route leading to her connection. 

Once on the train she had 3 seconds left before the so-called authorities would swarm her building.

Good thing she was gone.

The assassin smiled for the first time in 48 hours.

**********************

"Sir, you need to get out of here. Marx's people are bound to be looking for you."

Jason looked up from the report he was reading and noticed the panicked edge to his employee's voice. 

"Why would they? I have nothing to do with this." He returned his attention to his report and hoped that his head of security would take the clue and leave him be. 

"Sir, your father..." Jason cut him off, "For god's sake Eric, I am not my father! I have nothing to do with this childish feud and I sure as hell have nothing to do with the murder!" 

The murder of Ranier Marx had come unexpectedly and he could see why people would think that his father had a hand in it, but he knew his father. His father was not capable of murder, not even indirectly.

"Actually Sir, the word is that you ordered the hit on Marx. Apparently since last week Marx was the only obstacle standing between you and the High-Seat of Alcor."

Jason was shocked. "What? Me? That's laughable! I don't even want Alcor!" He took a breath and tried to calm himself. Was he taking this situation to lightly? If it really was said that he killed Marx, then he was in a lot of trouble. The House would want retribution and only his blood would avenge their leader.

"I need to get off the Grid and disappear, at least for a few days or until the police find the real killer." Fat chance of that, but he made up his mind and hoped it would all blow over soon. He would hide out and take a few days off, in fact, he hadn't take off in months, not since Selena left.

"Eric, organise everything and bring me word in three days"

*************************

The assassin was staying over at a safe-house 15 clicks out of town, she knew about it from a friend in Secret Service. It was abandoned; apparently the previous mission had compromised its location. No-one would be looking for her here; they would be shutting down airports and watching all means of transport out. She would just stay put for a few days and then head out of the country, starting her new life, whatever it may be.

Contemplating her new found situation, she went about cleaning herself up and cooking a proper meal. She relished the normalcy of the evening, no surveillance, no training and no burning hatred for the man who murdered her family.

Only food and sleep.

She awoke instantly. The car had probably stopped about 40 meters away and now the footsteps were approaching from the South. The assassin silently pulled her gun from beneath her pillow and moved into an alcove across from the stairs. The house was dark; she would be hidden by the shadows.

The front door opened and the lights clicked on, the first floor flooded with luminescent light.

That was strange; the person was obviously not looking for her, whoever it was believed the house to be empty, a good advantage.

She moved to get a closer look, at the same time the new-comer started climbing the stairs. 

She had her 9 mm pointing at his chest before he could take another step.

"Show me your hands and slowly retreat," her voice was hoarse. When last had she spoken? She followed the man as he moved into the living room, watching her face instead of the gun. So this was a trained man, he had probably been millimeters away from his own gun when she had stopped him.

"Who are you?" he asked. Once in the light she could see that he wasn't nervous, merely curious and she thought extremely self-assured.

"Give me your gun" she said, keeping her tone neutral. There was a slight widening of his eyes, as if he was shocked that she knew he had one. He handed her his gun from behind his belt and she proceeded to stick it behind hers, "Who I might be is not important, what is important is that you will be dead within five seconds if I don't learn who you are." She was amused by the absolute confidence exuding from this man, standing there unarmed and relaxed. He smiled at her and she was forced to take another look at him, he was handsome.

"You are not going to kill me," his accent was faintly familiar as he arrogantly laid the statement out for her, "if you shoot me now, then your place of safety is also compromised. I'm judging from your lack of proper clothing that you were asleep when I arrived, and not waiting in ambush of my life." 

He folded his arms across his expansive chest in triumph and a gorgeous mischievous grin played across his lips.

It was her turn to be caught off guard, she looked down. Shit. She was only wearing a g-string and a sports bra.

"I work this way, it makes my victims feel more comfortable," she lowered her gun but kept it pointing in his direction.

"Oh I see, your target fee must be expensive with the extra services you offer," He was obviously enjoying this. Indignation rushed through her when she realised that he had pinned her as an assassin, what did he know about target fees? She was intrigued by this man, if a little irritated, but she felt safer pointing the barrel at his head. 

"Why are you here?"

"Long story short, I'm running for my life." He seemed serious. She motioned him toward the kitchen and sat down across from him at the table. "There any coffee in this place?" he sounded so genuine and he seemed so relaxed that she couldn't help but laugh. 

"I'm holding a gun to your head; I suggest before anyone gets any refreshment, you explain to me how it is you know about a CSS level 8 safe-house?" She walked around the table until she was directly opposite him, gun pointed at his forehead and her frame towering over him on the chair.

Finally he spoke, "I have some friends in high places," he looked up "and I have CSS level 10 clearance. I imagine that you know that it is illegal to disclose such information."

She swallowed; she hadn't seen that one coming. 

"Ok, so here's how we are going to proceed," she moved back to her side of the table, but kept the pistol angled at his head. "We co-exist in the same safe-house for the night; then I leave in the morning. We never came across each other and according to you, I don't exist."

She cocked the gun.

The resounding click of metal against metal spanned the silence that ensued.

"Fine," he sounded resigned, "on one condition, you make the coffee."

She laughed as she disarmed her gun.

This might just be fun.

*********************************

The girl was hot. And she handled her weapon like she'd been born with it in her hand. If she wanted to kill him, she could've done so when he turned his back to get the milk out the fridge. Now they were just talking, amazingly about anything and everything besides the reasons why they were both hiding in a safe-house.

"No the .223 is better than the .338, it's a common misconception, especially amongst men," she was so effortlessly serious about all of this stuff that he was stunned. How did he handle a woman such as this? Most of the girls he dated talked about fashion and push-up bras, this was a whole new level of intelligence and he was unsure how to proceed. 

"Please tell me your name so I can talk to you like a normal person," he tried to keep his voice serene and neutral, but she instantly tensed at the request for information.

"No. No names. I'm leaving in the morning and I don't need anyone knowing that I was ever here, so ask me one more time and I'll put a bullet through your patella." She delivered the speech with a measure of confidence that made him a little apprehensive. She would do it.

"Ok fine, what about a compromise. I give you something and you tell me only your first name." How can this be so difficult? It was just a name. She seemed to be considering his suggestion,

"Ok," she said "take off your clothes."

"What?" Had he heard correctly? 

She repeated, "Take off your clothes, starting with your belt"

"You want me to remove my clothes and then you'll tell me your name?" He enthusiastically started to loosen his belt.

"No, first you shall indulge i decide whether or not you are good enough. Then after you have given me several orgasms, I might consider telling you my name."

His cock reacted first. Did she just say that? Judging by the stiffness in his boxers, she had indeed.

He continued to remove his clothes, not trusting himself to speak, lest he burst this bubble of sheer miracle that had just enveloped his life.

She stood there in her underwear, holding the 9 mm and watching his every move. He became aware of her perfectly sculpted body, so fit and muscular. Once he had removed every stitch, her eyes widened a little and her face flushed. His penis was impressive; it was rock hard and standing at attention. 

He felt somewhat uncomfortable under her inscrutable gaze.

But she smiled and finally she clicked the safety in to place and placed her gun on the shelf.

She stepped forward and pressed her body into his, encircling his neck and bringing her lips close to his mouth.

He met her halfway and kissed her, tentatively at first. But it was instant. He inhaled her scent and felt desire like fire searing through him. Her tongue was exploring his and his breaths accompanied intoxicating anticipation. 

He ran his hands down her body and felt the movement of her muscles as she balanced the weight of his body moving into hers. She reached down and removed her bra in one fluid motion, revealing big nipples and a flat stomach. 

She was considerably shorter than him, so he picked her up by the back of her thighs and raised her just high enough to be able to enclose his mouth around an erect nipple. She gasped, pulling him closer and pressing herself against his erection.

He moved to the bed and continued sucking her nipples and breasts as he lay her down, she grasped his cock and sensually moved her hand up and down. 

He pulled off the last of her underwear and ran two fingers through her slit. She was wet and moaning. He placed his cock over her pussy and leaned in to kiss her. She pushed her pussy onto his cock, wrapping her legs around his waist.

As she embraced him more firmly, he plunged his penis into her. 

It felt like chemistry, so right. He slowly pulled himself out and then pushed back in again, her wet pussy opening up to accommodate him. 

Moaning, she pushed him onward, and faster. He rode her harder as they looked into each other's eyes.

Her pussy started to contract and he felt his release beckoning. She urged him deeper and faster and he focused on hitting her clit with every thrust. Soon she was gasping and preparing for orgasm as his ready to explode cock thrusts in and out of her, he tried to stop himself but then she was coming and he couldn't keep it in anymore, he plunged into her for three more deep thrusts and then it was there. 

His exquisite release and her shuddering beneath him, moaning and beautiful.

He collapsed down beside her and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath; he asked "So what's your name?"

She looked up with a glint in her eye and a smile.

"I remember saying "several" orgasms."



The Assassin Ch. 02



Elanna stared down, her gaze unwavering and piercing. The red slowly faded, and the icy blue colour returned. She wondered what was going through the human's mind, perhaps she thought the half-blood was going to kill her, or sacrifice her in some decadent ritual; not that Elanna knew any. But that was hardly a point taken into consideration among those who would wish her dead.

Apparently, because she was a half-demon, that meant she obviously knew every demonic spell in existence. Sure, since Elanna preferred to use blades and get up close and personal, when she could simply summon a plague of locusts in her targets room to strip their flesh away.

This wasn't the case, she didn't know any magic. She had tried to use magic, but the best that came out of that attempt was anger, spent gold and another dead elf. She didn't have the aptitude for it.

You couldn't really say she didn't have the patience; she could wait on a target for days in the same spot.

"You going to get me burned, hanged or anything else equally bothersome?" she finally said, breaking the silence. The young woman she was standing over shook her head quickly.

Elanna nodded in appraisal and knelt down, putting her hand on the maiden's shoulder. She flinched. "Hey, don't be afraid. Who are you and where do you live? I doubt you want to stay in this filthy alley?" 

"M-My name is Sira; Sira Courland," the girl mumbled, not really looking at Elanna. The half-blood quirked an eyebrow, "Courland? Huh, no wonder those two were trying to spirit you away. Your family's quite wealthy."

Sira looked at the older woman sharply, a look of fear in her eyes. She was afraid Elanna would have the same thought as those two men.

Elanna cocked her head to the side, "I've no intention of doing that. Though I am running low on money lately," she smirked and leaned close, running the tip of her index finger along Sira's delicate jaw. "I could simply kill for that."

Sira shivered in fear, noticing the subtle mechanic components under Elanna's leather vambrace. She could see the point of a blade. White robes, hood, hidden blade; half-demon. "Assassin..." she breathed, visibly paling.

Elanna smirked again, "oh, so my reputation even carries to the noble's of Mizad? I'm very flattered that they tell their dear little children of such morbid things." Sira pulled a face, "I'm not a child!" Elanna chuckled, "your pouting says otherwise." She grabbed Sira's arm and pulled her up as she stood. "But anyway, I have to return you to your parents, if you don't mind."

She easily pulled the girl along, she was hardly strong enough to make Elanna let go of her.

Half way to the noble's quarter of the city, Sira had grown very quiet; she'd stopped struggling at least. Elanna usually enjoyed it when someone in her grasp squirmed, but other times it was just irksome.

She could feel Sira's gaze on her however, boring into the back of her head, taking in what she could see of her appearance; which wasn't much since she was trying to look at her face. Hidden as it was in the darkness of her hood.

Elanna swore sharply as Sira suddenly bit her hand, pulling away as soon as Elanna let go and bolting through the crowd. "You little bitch!" she hissed, her eyes sinking into red. Elanna quickly gave chase, easily picking out the girl as she shoved through the crowd; however, she soon disappeared down a back alley. Elanna growled under her breath and turned down the same way, following Sira's scent.

A few more turns and she saw the girl stop all of a sudden, backing away from some unseen enemy around the next corner.

Soldiers made themselves known, clad in their well maintained armour. Their bore the Courland emblem on their surcoats; so why was Sira backing away from them instead of running to them for cover?

Elanna narrowed her eyes, coming up behind the girl and grabbing her by her shoulders. She froze up, stuck between two forces she didn't want to contend with. "Let me make an 'educated' guess...your father's new wife doesn't like you?" Elanna murmured, slowly backing away with the girl. Sira bit her lip, looking down. "I didn't even do anything to her..."

Lord Courland had lost his first wife - Sira's mother - years ago; only recently marrying a younger bride. On the surface things seemed smooth and perfect, but Elanna wasn't all that surprised. This 'story' had played out many times in the history of man. The children of the original family pushed out for the new bride's own flesh and blood. It sickened her.

Elanna's face set in a hard look of disdain, her gaze switching to the oncoming guards as they drew their weapons. "So, she wants you dead just because you exist?" she asked coldly. Sira only nodded. Elanna pulled the girl behind her without another word uttered, her mouth pulling into a silent snarl. Reaching behind her, she unsheathed one of her dual crescent blades, hidden under her half cloak on the small of her back.

The guards paused, and their Captain stepped forward. "Seems those ruffians we bribed couldn't get the job done." He eyed Elanna up, noticing the blood on the cuffs of her sleeves. "Heh, got some help of your own, Sira? Step aside, filth, we don't need you to muddy the waters even more; I don't expect rabble to understand what we're-" he didn't get the chance to finish as Elanna threw a smoke bomb down on the ground, engulfing them all in a cloud of the stuff. As the guards started panicking, she weaved her way through them, grabbing the captain by the back of his hauberk. She leaned close, her mouth next to his ear as she pressed her knife to his throat. "Actually, I understand better than you think, and more than I care to explain to savages like you," she whispered, before moving her hand up into his hair and yanking his head back, slitting his throat.

Dropping him, she darted from guard to guard, killing them swiftly and efficiently.

Sira couldn't see a thing in the smoke cloud, but she could hear the men screaming in panic, their yells being sharply cut off as Elanna reached them. When all was silent, Sira started to back away, afraid again. But Elanna suddenly darted out of the cloud, grabbing Sira by her arm and dragging her along again. "We have to get out of here."

Sira stared at the half-blood. "Wh-What? Where are you taking me?!"

Elanna stopped and turned on the girl. "Keep your voice down girl! We need to leave this city - now!" she started running again, and Sira managed to keep her feet under her this time. What was going on? Suddenly the half-blood wanted to get her to safety? "Y-You're protecting me?"

Elanna didn't look back at her this time, just continued weaving their path through back alleys. "In a sense..."

Sira felt relief flood through her, she didn't care if this would be dangerous, she didn't care what Elanna did or was. Trusted guards, so-called friends, and even her beloved father had all been swayed by that evil witch. 'And suddenly a total stranger wants to keep me safe in spite of the trouble that could bring upon her?' she thought, a faint smile coming to her lips.

But then she frowned, why? Why was this stranger helping her? She was the infamous Assassin, the only one in her 'profession' to be exclusively given that title by the people and higher castes alike. On top of that, she was a half-demon, hated by everyone, and only tolerated because of her skills. So why?

Maybe she would reveal her reasons at a later date, but for now, Sira would be content that someone cared for her well being. 



The Assassin Ch. 02



Her mind was constantly focused on her surroundings, always warding against threats even when she was asleep. 

So it came as a great shock when, in the early hours of the morning, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the business end of a Mark 23.

She cast around mentally and assessed her options and exit points.

"How does it feel to be on the other side of the barrel?"

His voice was low and dangerous. She needed to get out of this situation, fast.

"Jason..." he interrupted her, his voice a whisper.

"You have one opportunity to give me the answer I want to hear," He cocked the gun. "Did you lead anybody to me? Are you playing me?" Even in a whisper he managed to convey the menace of his mood.

She swallowed, "No, I swear. I mean, what do you mean? Is there somebody out there?" She felt ashamed that she asked, she should know, she should be prepared. But all she had was the bitterness of not knowing.

Still in a whisper, but crouching low over her he replied, "Yes, they're about 150metres away. We have exactly ten seconds to get to the window at the top of the stairs and then five to make the jump, seven if we're lucky and they enter from the back. Grab your things, we're leaving."

Her mind found its rhythm and clarity swept through her like a fog being lifted. She rammed her pants on and pulled a shirt over her head; she stepped into her boots with practiced ease, grabbed her pack and swiped her gun from the shelf. 

"Ready" she said as she did the final buttons on the shirt (it was his) and made for the stairs.

He did a double take, she was ready? That fast? He was definitely dealing with a professional. He had added 4 seconds to their exit time, as he thought she would need it. 

Apparently not.

She reached the second-floor window before he did.

As he was about to explain that they are going to grab onto the gutter and swing onto the roof, he only saw her legs as she swung out the window.

He joined her on the roof and they both began moving East, in the direction of the forest.

They reached the edge of the property and quickly ducked behind some scrubs as the house flooded with light. Doors were being smashed open and rooms searched.

"We need to cross the river about 2km down-river. I have a friend with a car on the other side." He was glad to be adding such a fundamental part to their escape, he felt he needed to impress her.

She looked at him and silently motioned for him to follow her; she disappeared into the vegetation of the forest.

"I have a car stationed 1km up-river, on this side of the bank. It's not mine and it's not a friend's, but it's there. I say we head that way, it will be quicker. And besides, they will be expecting us to cross to the other side." She said it with such calm clarity that he was moving in her direction before he could blink.

What was it about this woman that made him feel so incompetent? He was one of the deadliest men alive and he was stuttering like a teenager with her. 

He certainly had not experienced any such problems when they were naked. 

After trudging through unknown vegetation for about 30minutes they walked into a gas-station, closed for the night. 

"Wait here." she pointed at a spot next to the road and before he could protest she was gone.

He decided to ignore her and look for supplies.

He found a vending machine, stuck in a coin and jammed the slot. Now it was a free-for-all.

He loaded packets of crisps and bottles of water into his backpack and congratulated himself on his foraging.

The car materialised from around the corner and was brought to a sudden halt next to him, "Get in" she said as she taped up some loose wires hanging from the dash.

She didn't have to tell him twice.

"So, Mr. CSS level 10. Where do we go?" she spared him a glance as she expertly steered the car at break-neck speed.

"You're asking me? I figured you'd have it all worked out." He crossed his arms and fixed her with his most searching look. 

"For god's sake. Don't be patronizing. I'd bet all my target fees for the next year on the fact that you have just the connections we need to disappear." At that moment he decided to stop underestimating this woman.

"Fine, but I can only have something ready by morning. You find us a pay-phone and a motel, somewhere off of the R45 and not the first one you see, maybe the third. And before I do anything further, I want to know your name." He continued to look at her.

She shot him a considering look, "Given the fact that you haven't tried to kill me when you've had so many opportunities, I will concede. My name is Merise." She tensed a little and he smiled, a point for him. She was obviously unsettled; he decided to use it to his advantage. 

"Since when has it become 'us' and 'we'? I don't know why you are running and believe me; you don't want to know why I'm staying off the Grid. And, listen, your name was paid for by the three times you came, twice into my face."

Arousal, or probably indignation, stained her cheeks. She stayed remarkably calm in comparison to the dangerous tone of her voice.

"It became 'us' and 'we' the moment you brought company to my safe-house, there's no way in hell they were looking for me. I don't care why you are running and besides, I was planning on shooting you anyway, long before you would ever learn my name."

He smiled inwardly, she was intoxicating. Her blunt words and hard exterior only served to highlight her charm, especially when one thought about licking her pussy.

"Ok, Merise. You win; I will drag you along and keep you out of trouble. If you try to shoot me, I will kill you without a thought. We clear on that?"

She looked over and seemed to change what she was going to say, "Crystal clear."





They rented a room at the fourth motel off of the R45 exit, as Mr. and Mr. Jenson. It was his idea to have her stay in the car so they could pose as a gay couple. It was pretty clever, not that she would admit that to him. 

He walked back to the car and handed her the keys to their room, along with a packet of crisps and a bottle of water. "I'm going to make a phone call. Lock the door and only open if I knock three times, think you can handle that?" He flashed her a mischievous grin and turned toward the phone.

He had become so cocky since she had told him her name and she had become silent. Let him think whatever it was that he was thinking. 

She shouldered her pack and walked to their room, scanning the environment out of reflex. 

There was a fire-escape leading from the back doors of the second floor, but they were staying on the ground floor. Her eyes caught sight of an old warehouse to the left of the motel. Sub-consciously she counted the number of steps it took from the car to the room as she pondered her fellow escapee. What could a man with level 10 clearance have to be on the run from and why did he not just kill her? 

It hit her like lightning, he was probably being framed or wrongfully accused. No guilty fugitive would leave someone alive with the knowledge she now had of his whereabouts, she stopped when she reached the door, 68 steps, but shouldn't she be asking herself the same thing?

Why did she not just kill him? She was guilty after all.

She thought about his eyes and the way he held her when they had made love. She stopped short.

Made love? Since when did she 'make love' with anyone. This man was getting under her skin, if he was changing her thinking about sex, then god knows, she had to kill him.



He parked the car inside an old warehouse close to the motel. He was seething. He had managed to place a call to Eric, his head of security. The man had acted like Jason had the wrong number, but in a whisper he had delivered the news that would change his life forever.

"You have been compromised," the words seemed to take ages to make sense, "plan F is in action." And with that the phone went dead and with it his whole life rocked on its hinges. 

Plan F meant that all their measures had failed and his team had decided to align with the House of Marx. They were cutting him off; according to them he was guilty.

He was well and truly fucked; he needed to leave the country yesterday.

As he walked into the room he noticed that the window was unlatched. Clever girl. 

He could hear her in the shower, but thought it was better to deal with himself first.

He sat on the bed and unlaced his boots, kicking them off one at a time. He reached for his bag and pulled out a bottle of dark rum that he had bought from reception.

He found some glasses in a cabinet and poured two sturdy drinks. Then he sat down and arranged his thoughts into a plan.

He had been trained for this, situations spinning out of control, plans falling apart, disasters. 

But he had never before had to face his own life crumbling. 

By the time he finished his second drink, his mind was made up, he had a plan and it was a damn good one.

She materialised in the doorway like a mythical being, steam floating from her body and her skin red from the heat.

"Well, look who can read minds. A stiff drink was exactly what I was thinking," she took the glass and made herself comfortable on the bed.

"We need to talk," He tried to sound less serious, but failed. "I have run into some major problems. We will have to slip through the Grid instead of just bypassing it. I have a plan, but it will be tricky. I can get you as far as Itania, but from there, I'm pretty much lost." He felt his body heat up when she sat up straight and gave him a proud view of her amazing breasts. He was lost in the urge to wrap his tongue around her nipples when he realised she was talking, 

"...a friend who can get us on a plane to Landlo. I'd be fine in Landlo, but then again, hey, are you listening?" he snapped his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, impressed that he didn't feel even a little bit sheepish.

"Of course I'm listening. We have a plan and that's all that matters." He dropped his eyes to her mouth again and saw her face flush; he would kill to know what she was thinking.

"Ok, genius, then it's settled. I will kill you in Landlo." She stood up and pulled him with her, then pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. "Go take a shower. I like my victims clean."

He felt strangely comforted by her suddenly hard demeanour. She was just as aroused as he was, but her way to deal with it was to threaten to blow his brains out. Hardcore. 

He smiled as he stepped out of the shower. The mix of emotions and trauma was creating a new sensation he hadn't felt in a long time.

Anticipation. 

She was sitting on the bed cleaning her 9mm. 

She looked so in her element, at peace. 

He dropped the towel and joined her on the bed. He pulled his Mark from under the mattress and proceeded to emulate her. 

She raised a perfect eyebrow, "So that's where you hid it. Strange, I didn't even look for it there, I thought you more inventive." She continued putting the rounds back in the cartridge.

"Exactly," he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

She looked up at him and did something very unexpected.

She threw her head back and laughed, uproariously. He loved the sound, so rare.

And so they sat side by side, cleaning their weapons. Naked. He found it to be extremely erotic.

Her hands knew the way around her pistol and he would bet she could do it blindfolded.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and the action of his hands that he was mildly surprised when he felt her hand on his cock. His hard cock, he had been thinking himself into a hard-on. 

There was a sexy glint in her eyes and her breathing was erratic as she bent down in front of him and slowly ran her tongue over the insides of his thighs.

He shivered involuntarily and placed his gun and the magazine on the bedside table.

He ran his hands over her bare back and through her hair, subtly urging her for more.

Her tongue finally found his tip and she slid her hot, wet mouth over his head, causing him to moan. It felt so good.

She kept the pace slow and soon his cock was aching for more. He felt her breasts as they bounced around his thighs and imagined licking her pussy again.

Her tempo increased and the sensation of her mouth over his dick became excruciatingly wonderful.

He felt his release arrive through the tingling in his abdomen, he felt it build and then concentrate into his penis. She kept sucking and her tongue was doing amazing things to his tip.

He tensed; she pulled up but kept her mouth locked over his cock as he came in a rush of euphoria. She swallowed his release and sensuously lay down next to him with her head on his shoulder.

He looked down at her and was caught off guard; the look in her eyes was so open and vulnerable that he was moving before he could think.

His lips found hers and he tasted himself on her tongue.

He pushed her down on her back and kissed her intimately everywhere he could reach.

Moving from her luxurious nipples to her toned abs and down, searching for her pleasure. He reached her thighs and buried his face into her crotch, taking in the smell of her. She arched her back and dragged her hands through his hair.

He wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled them open as wide as was comfortable, then hovered his face over her pink, wet pussy, blowing softly on her pubic hair and revelling in the goose bumps appearing on her skin.

He slowly ran his tongue through her folds, tasting her arousal and desire. He found her clit and slowly, softly started to stimulate her with his mouth.

Her clit tensed and his killer's instinct snapped into action.

He had his target, now it was all down to execution.

He increased the pace with which his tongue ravished her most secret place, a place she had willingly opened up to him.

He let her moans wash over him as he felt his member rise fully to the occasion.

He lost himself in her, only focused on getting her there, making her reach full potential.

She tensed, her pussy contracted, she gasped and then she began shuddering, toes curling and muscles rigid.

In that moment she said only one word, his name.

Her pussy gushed into his mouth and he lapped it up with pure pleasure, wanting to have all of her.

She lay panting with her eyes closed as he moved up her body, letting his cock rest at the entrance to her pussy.

She looked up and said, "No, I want to fuck you."

He was perplexed. Isn't that what they were doing?

But then she gracefully moved herself out from underneath him and pushed him down on his back.

He was intrigued be the agility of her body as she straddled him. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately; his head spun. 

She positioned his cock and slowly proceeded to envelope him entirely. It was pure ecstasy. 

At first she gently rocked back and forth, doing amazing things with her hips.

Then she placed her feet on his thighs and leaned on his chest with her arms, giving him a full view of her bouncing breasts, nipples erect.

She pulled her pussy up to the very tip of his cock and then plunged down until it felt like he could go no further; he released a groan as she did it again. This seemed to motivate her, so he let go of all inhibitions and provided the sound effects to her mastery.

The pace quickened and soon they were both panting and moaning in exact timing.

He felt her pussy tighten at the same moment that his liberation became apparent.

She moved faster, he grabbed her hips and plunged himself into her, meeting her as she came down onto him.

He looked into her eyes as they both reached the peak. He slammed himself into her and she lost control, her pussy convulsing and her whole body shuddering. He sat up a little, wrapped his arms around her waist and gave two more hard thrusts. Then he was coming, gloriously and he could hear her satisfaction at his timing.

They collapsed into a tangled heap, limbs everywhere.

Their sweaty bodies gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. 

He woke in the morning, feeling the most hopeful he ever had in his life, a song in his heart and new possibilities beckoning on the horizon, but then...

She was gone and so was his Mark 23. 



The Assassin Ch. 02



Chapter TWO: Annälisa meets Salma ... and the games begin

"Okay, baby. See you later. Be careful."

Annälisa smiled to herself as Yoko ended their call. 

Her young Japanese lover always told her to be careful when she had a contract to carry out. Tonight's was the third since they'd met. It looked like being the most straightforward of all three.

That meant she could think of other things, for now. And sex was on her mind. She hadn't been with Yoko for a couple of days and that was way too long. Just talking to her had stirred the heat between her thighs again. Yoko's sexy oriental accent invariably gave her goosebumps and the way she elongated the word 'baby' into 'babeee' was just adorable. 

In the few months since they'd met, the young girl had taken over seamlessly from Ginger as the go-between between the Swedish assassin and her would-be employers. 

She had also established herself as the blonde's regular lover. 

She had explained to Annälisa that many Japanese girls like her were educated in the art of sensual lovemaking from an early age. Even better, when she wasn't providing verbal details of her training back in her country, she was eager to demonstrate her considerable capabilities to the blonde.

The assassin's sex life had never been so good, except maybe for the pleasure that only a man's warm, hard dick could provide.

"Ya should be careful, Missy..." 

The deep, youthful voice brought her out of her thoughts. She knew who it was. The young cashier had been closely watching her while she'd chatted to Yoko in the supermarket—even a hit woman had to eat—and his gaze was all over her now she'd moved to his checkout aisle. He was cute, with a warm smile and dark the colour of midnight. So why shouldn't she flirt a little?

"Careful?" she asked, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

He nodded, his gaze still alternating between her face and the hard nipples poking through her top. 

"Some of the boys around here talk about ya when ya come shopping," he said, his eyes deep with meaning. "It ain't right what them boys think. Ya best be careful, I'm tellin' ya."

Annälisa gave him her sexiest smile. She'd seen the way his young friends looked at her as they hung around the supermarket car park, but then she was used to guys paying attention to her wherever she went. 

"And what d'you think those boys have on their minds," she asked, deliberately leaning forward to collect the final piece of her shopping from the counter.

His dark eyes instantly dipped into her heavy cleavage. 

"Well?" she asked.

A knowing look covered his face as she provocatively held the pose and he shot her a crooked grin when his eyes eventually made their way back up to meet hers. 

"Same thing as I'm thinkin'," he said.

His tone was a little thicker, more guttural. It made her smile. There was a certain arrogance to black teenagers that she'd always found a turn-on, ever since she'd been his age. Barely eighteen or nineteen, they thought they knew everything there was to know about life, sex ... and white women in particular.

Annälisa playfully twirled a loose strand of blonde hair around her index finger as she straightened. In some ways, this was ridiculous. She could pick up any guy she wanted, whenever she wanted, so why a teenager working on a supermarket checkout? Was it because of his youthful cockiness, or was it the growing bulge in his groin? If it was possible for her nipples to harden further, they did when she imagined what was waiting there. 

She checked her watch. She had a couple of hours to kill before it was time to prepare for her contract. And she'd never had a black guy before. So why not?

"Well, if that's what you're thinking," she eventually said. "Tell me one thing. Can you take your coffee break now?"

----------

She parked her car close to the back entrance, where the teenager was waiting for her, and hurried inside the green door before anyone could notice. She wasn't sure what she expected to find inside, maybe a corridor through to the coffee area, but instead he led her to a very small storage room. 

She turned to speak as soon as he closed the door behind them, but he was all over her like a whirlwind. His mouth found hers, one hand cupped her right breast and the other tried to slide underneath the short hem of her skirt. 

Annälisa smiled to herself at his eagerness.

"Easy tiger," she chuckled, pushing him away. 

For a moment he stared at her puzzled. The look on his face made her chuckle out loud. He just needed to understand they were going to do this on her terms, not his. Reaching out, she stroked the thick outline of his dick through his trousers.

"Take it out," she instructed, adding more emphasis to the request by slowly running her wet tongue along her bottom lip. "I have a feeling I'm not going to be disappointed." 

He stared at her for a few seconds more and then his hands dropped to his waist. Only the heavy sound of their breathing filled the room as he eagerly unbuckled his thin black belt. When he pulled down his zipper and yanked out his teenage prize, Annälisa stared happily at his exposed manhood. 

It was thick, long, and already semi erect. 

He felt nice and warm when she took the throbbing shaft in her palm and began to stroke him. His young dick was mouth watering, and it wasn't going to be long before she had the monster in her mouth. If she'd known black teenagers looked as good as this, she'd have indulged a long time ago.

She could smell the boy-sweat on him as she sank to her knees and stretched her fingers as far around the base of his dick as they would go. He gave a throaty growl.

"That's it, Missy..." he mumbled. "Suck it..."

"You got that right," she promised, nuzzling her right cheek up and down the length of his impressive shaft. "And believe me, lover-boy, this'll be the best blow job you've ever had."

Her cool blue eyes stayed on his as she dipped her head forward and took just his mushroom head between her lips. The shudder of arousal that passed through his body was only the start. He was in for the treat of his life. 

His fingers tightened in her blonde hair, holding here there as if he was the one in control. That made Annälisa smile. She had no doubt that lots of girls had gone down on this beautiful monster. 

But none would have been as good as this...

The blonde took her time, indulging herself to begin with, and then delivering on her promise. She went through every trick in her repertoire, even rolling his balls around her mouth to ease the tension when she felt him getting close. 

She took him to the very edge several times, holding him on the brink of his pulsating climax until he was practically begging for release, before easing off and starting the whole process again.

But eventually, when it was all becoming too much for him and he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer, she changed her approach. The upturned carton to their left would do.

Rising to her feet, she practically yanked him towards the box and pushed him down into a sitting position. It took a nano-second to drag her panties down her thighs and then she was straddling him, her fingers brushing through his wiry hair as she slowly worked his thick dick inside her. He was so big that it took several passes before she had him sheathed completely.

Placing her arms on his shoulder, she curled her hands around his neck and interlaced her fingers as she settled on him.

"If you cum before me, I'll cut your fucking balls off," she rasped.

She was only half joking.

He didn't speak. He just nodded. Annälisa returned the nod as she began to move on him, slowly and gently at first. She closed her blue eyes, savouring the feeling of her wet tightness gliding up and down his hard black dick, loving the way her warmth spread over him. It had been a while since she'd enjoyed a slow fuck—feeling every breath, every heart beat.

"Don't cum," she reminded him, moving faster.

The groan that left his throat didn't give her any confidence and so she suddenly dragged her blouse and bra upwards in one sharp yank, exposing her pendulous tits to his gaze.

Pulling his head towards them, she sighed happily as his thick lips found her left nipple. That would give him something else to concentrate other than the feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around his throbbing flesh.

When she returned her hands to his neck and built up the pace, his hands slid down and gripped her hips, trying to control her movements. It was a lost cause. He wasn't going to last long and the only way to reach her own climax was to pound him in the hope they would come together. 

"Don't cum," she rasped again, bucking her hips.

That was better. She could feel the familiar sensations closing in as his thickness filled her. It wasn't going to take long.

"Don't cum," she repeated, pivoting one way and then the other before grinding down harder on his cock. 

Her brow furrowed harder as the sensations spread through her. She was close. So was he. He was biting down on his bottom lip. Nearly there. His hands clawed at her thighs and hers went to her tits, pulling on her nipples as she let out a cry, threw her head back, and went for broke. 

Then she was there ... or at least on the brink ... and Annälisa held herself there as she frantically increased the pace of her downward thrusts, wanting him to cum with her. 

His response was perfect. 

His breaths became hectic, a growl slipped past his thick lips, and then his orgasm erupted with frantic bursts in time with the tidal wave that swept through the blonde assassin. 

It felt like he spurted forever as her tight pussy squeezed and milked out every single drop he had. Her arms held him close, loving the way his body shuddered with each burst, and it was only when he eventually started to relax that she pushed up to her feet and bent down to tenderly kiss his forehead.

"Coffee break over, I guess," she chuckled, stroking his wiry hair. "What's your name, lover-boy?"

"Antony," he gasped. 

His breath was still heavy from the intensity of the fucking and he was staring up at her almost in disbelief as he tucked his diminishing manhood back into his trousers.

"Antony," Annälisa repeated, smiling at him as she picked up her white panties from the floor. 

She stuffed them into the pocket on the front of his shirt.

"That's a souvenir for you, Antony," she husked, emphasizing his name. "Make sure you get your girlfriend to wash them after you've had a good wank in them later."

---

Annälisa's eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom around her. Everything had gone smoothly so far and yet there was something about the night air that disturbed her. Call it a sixth sense, but it rarely failed her. Something was wrong. 

But what?

Her position on the next to top floor in the abandoned building gave her a clear view of the entrance and exit to the office block below. Her target was still in there, despite the lateness of the hour. Just as she'd been told he would be. She'd have the perfect shot when he left the building, and that would be that. 

Contract fulfilled.

Her escape route was up the stairs, across the rooftop to the building opposite, utilizing the fire escape to reach the ground and then drive away in the stolen car she'd parked in a back alley. It was that simple.

And yet, there was something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her instincts never failed her.

She drew her knees to her chest and began to breathe deeply, trying to let the feeling pass. That was better. Close her eyes and let her body relax. Maybe it was the waiting that was getting to her? That was always the boring part of her profession. The act itself was over quickly, in a heartbeat, but the waiting could be interminable. 

Still, it gave her time to think—about Antony, and that thick cock of his; about Yoko and her amazing lovemaking skills; about...

A noise close by alerted her. It was just a faint sound, but it was there all the same. And it came from a direction where there should only have been silence. A light step, treading on a creaking board? The movement of someone sneaking up on her? 

Fuck! She'd known it. 

Her feminine intuition was rarely wrong.

Placing her high-velocity rifle on the gravelled ground beside her, Annälisa pulled her gun out of its shoulder holster, twisted on a silencer in an instant, and clicked off the safety. 

She had no intention of taking any chances.

Moving stealthily, she headed across towards the stairs to her left. If she could get to the top floor, she should have the drop on whoever it was. She took the steps slowly, carefully, one at a time, travelling up the side closest to the wall to minimise the chance of the staircase creaking. But as soon as she reached the top and stepped out in the open, she realised her mistake.

"We meet at last," a female voice greeted her. 

Even in the semi-dark, Annälisa recognised her adversary immediately. Not that they had met, but the Latin-American woman's signature two piece cat suit was unmistakeable. 

The Swedish hit woman believed in practicality on the job whereas this woman—known as 'Salma' because of her strong resemblance to Salma Hayek—believed in flamboyance.

Her tight black trousers, casually held together by two snaps across her crotch, sat very low on her waist, revealing her flat stomach with its diamond belly button piercing. The bodice consisted of nothing more than a web of black leather straps, covering only just enough of her thrusting breasts to maintain a semblance of respectability.

Her long wavy black-hair flowed down the back of her shoulders and perfectly complimented the matching black cowl. The thigh-high black leather boots completed the outfit, with what Annälisa reasoned must be at least four inch heels. 

She looked like she'd just stepped off a movie production. 

Perhaps that was her secret? Who would believe someone dressed like that could have any part in a murder that had just taken place? Even if she were stopped, she would no doubt innocently explain she was on her way to one party or another. 

Yet her guile and expertise were revered throughout her profession and, right now, she stood facing Annälisa with a Makarov handgun aiming directly her fabulous chest. The gun was deadly—true stopping power in a small package. 

"On the ground. Or it ends here," Salma said, motioning with her free hand for Annälisa to drop her own gun.

Her voice was thick and husky. Sexy, even.

When her finger tightened on the Makarov's trigger, the blonde had no choice. Her gaze didn't leave Salma's as she crouched to place the gun on the gravel before straightening again. 

"It ends here anyway, doesn't it?" she asked. 

Her brain was whirring as she rapidly considered her escape options. There weren't many.

The Latin-American assassin simply raised a confirmatory eyebrow. 

She was a beautiful woman, probably in her late thirties, but she looked younger. Her breasts were well-rounded and curved under the costume. Her stomach was well-defined, and her hips were voluptuous. She looked every inch a Salma Hayek. 

And that husky Latin-American accent!! That sound sent ripples of heat all the way down to her sex. Too many women with sexy accents in her life, she thought.

"Tell me this," she asked, playing for time. "Who set me up?"

A faint smile touched the edges of Salma's pouting lips.

"Think back to your last hit," she softly said. "He was tipped-off. He knew you were coming after him, but didn't know when, that's why he had someone covering the alley. He had all the bases covered outside of the hotel and didn't expect you to get through any of them. Moron. That was why it was so easy for you in the end. But guess what, he had connections. They found out who had carried out the hit and decided to send out a message. So they employed the very best to take you out ... and here I am."

Annälisa chuckled, despite the perilous situation.

"From what I've heard, you're very good," she conceded. "If a little over-the-top in the way you dress. But no-one is better than me."

Salma threw her head back and laughed heartily.

"I'd say the fact that your gun is on the ground at your feet and mine is pointing at those oversized tits is a clear indication of our respective merits, wouldn't you? And how do you think I knew you'd be here? This hit is a set-up. There isn't one. It was just a way of bringing you out into the open."

Annälisa shrugged. She was fully focused on finding a way to escape and knew that if she didn't come up with something instantaneously, her life was about to end...

It came in the form of a memory. The file she'd been given with details of her last target had some inconsistencies, enough for her to want them checked out. She'd tested Yoko by asking her to dig deep and her new employee-lover had unearthed some interesting information.

"Alexander Mishin," she suddenly said.

Bingo! Salma tried to disguise her surprise, but then inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"I'm impressed. Now how could you have known that?"

"Let's just call it an assassin's instinct," Annälisa answered. "And I'm willing to wager that you're already aware of the way he operates. He hires you to take me out, and then one of his own men takes you out. No loose ends that way."

Salma's chuckle was delightfully sexy. The trouble was her finger was tightening on the trigger of her gun.

"You think that sort of talk will deflect me from—"

Annälisa's foot lashed out and kicked a hail of gravel at her opponent. It was a desperate gesture, but some of the pebbles caught Salma in the face, enough to throw her off guard. She fired two shots as the blonde charged at her, but the first bullet flew past Annälisa's ear and the second brushed her hair.

Salma cursed as their bodies collided, and then the Swedish woman grabbed her wrist. The Makarov clattered onto the ground and their bodies followed, each woman clawing at the other in an effort to gain some sort of control. 

At first it was brutal—knees, legs, elbows and fingernails all in use, and even a couple of attempted head-butts. But eventually, with their legs scissored around each other's body as they struggled and their hands locked on the other's wrists, it became a stalemate, neither of them able to take control. 

Their eyes met—Annälisa's blue and cool, Salma's brown and fiery, but in that one look, something passed between them.

It was impossible to tell who kissed who first. It was a brief kiss, full of hate, anger and lust, and then another, more urgent and more passionate. Their bodies were no longer squirming in an attempt at superiority, but instead they moved against each another as the heat built up between them.

"Truce," Salma suddenly asked, in that husky tone. 

Annälisa nodded. Her heart was thudding against her chest so loudly that she could hear the beat in her ears. 

"Truce," she agreed.

"For tonight," Salma grunted. "One night only."

And then her hand was around the blonde's neck, drawing her closer, and they were kissing again. 

"You're one seriously sexy bitch," Salma gasped. 

Both sets of hands were already at work yanking off the other's clothes. It wasn't concealed weapons they were looking for.

"Look who's talking," Annälisa grunted, dipping her head so that she could find those wonderful Latin-American tits. 

She took a rigid nipple between her teeth and flicked at it with her tongue, bringing a moan from the woman who had just tried to kill her. No hard feelings. She was fulfilling a contract, just like Annälisa did. There was no emotion attached. It was just business.

She pushed the thought away as she covered the nipple with her mouth, saliva dripping from her lips as she began to suckle on it. But Salma was in no mood for niceties. Her hands curled in the blonde's hair and yanked her head back. 




The Assassin Ch. 02



"We don't have time for everything I'd like to do," she snapped, trying to force Annälisa's head downwards. "So let's get to the point. Eat me, bitch. You know you want to."

Annälisa responded grabbing Salma's dark hair, and trying to force her down, too. But it wasn't exactly a battle of wills. In their heated state, both women wanted the same thing—to give and to receive.

Cushioned on the cold gravel only by their discarded clothing, both panting women frantically spread their long legs apart as they adjusted their positions. With one final love-hate glance towards one another, they dipped their faces towards the honey pot awaiting them in a classic soixante-neuf. 

Annälisa began by kissing along her adversary's inner thigh, relishing the aroma that emanated from her sweet cunt in waves of heat and moisture. But there was to be no time to savour. 

Salma instantly grabbed her blonde hair and pulled her face into her sex, while using the fingers of her free hand on Annälisa's clit at the same time, rubbing, rolling and squeezing the little nub as she lapped up the flowing juices being fed to her. Her tongue was never still, pushing through the blonde's glistening labia in search of as much of that delectable feminine honey it could get.

Annälisa responded in kind, covering the whole of that Latin American cunt with her mouth, lips and tongue until the two women were going at one another like wild animals, the need to kill long since replaced with a need to cum. 

It remained a competition, but of a different sort—a frenetic desire to force an orgasm from their lover-opponent before succumbing themselves. 

Annälisa bent her legs and crossed her feet behind Salma's neck, using her heels to keep the beautiful woman's head in position while her tongue worked its magic. Salma's cunt, meanwhile, was gyrating so aggressively that the blonde had to work hard just to keep her lapping tongue in contact with those wonderfully juicy pussy lips. 

They were like women possessed, turned on by their near-death encounter and knowing that if either got their way tomorrow, or the next day, then this could easily be the last sexual encounter for either woman. 

The sounds of their heavy breathing; their moans and groans; their sloshing fingers and the occasional curse; all split the cold night air as Annälisa licked, sucked and bit at the other's clitoris; while Salma speared her tongue deep inside her lover's labia. 

In the end, it was a close-run thing... 

Salma came first, her body trembling and juddering under the force of her climax. And, glory be ... a second orgasm instantly followed, accompanied by a guttural growl and then a throaty scream that spiralled away into the night air.

Annälisa continued to lap at her victim—pacing her down from the high-velocity climaxes, or seeking yet another?—but once Salma recovered, she wasn't going to be denied her own prize. Still panting like an out-of-breath marathon runner, she curled two fingers inside Annälisa's cunt while her beautiful mouth fastened back over the blonde's increasingly sensitive clit. 

Annälisa felt her heat mounting as Salma worked her nub between her lips like the expert she was. Oh fuck! This woman was something else. The incredible sensations were washing through her like waves of ecstasy and her entire body stiffened like a board as she sailed towards the point of no return.

When Salma twisted her fingers and sucked even harder, the vibrations were too much to resist. 

Annälisa's mouth gaped open, her thighs trembled and she ignored her lover's need to breathe as she roughly humped her pussy across Salma's face again and again until she came with a whimpering cry of ecstasy.

The Latin-American Catwoman only just managed to turn her head fractionally to one side and take a deep breath. 

"Trying to kill me?" she quipped, drawing a few deep grateful lungfuls of night air.

Annälisa smiled coyly at her, panting for breath herself.

"Now there's a thought," she softly replied. 

Neither woman spoke further as they sat up, just staring at one at one another with an almost carnal-like intensity as the cool night air caressed their semi-naked bodies. Then Annälisa held out a hand, Salma took it, and they pulled the other to their feet.

Their gazes remained on one another as they retrieved their clothes. When both women were fully dressed again, Salma nodded and Annälisa slowly returned the gesture. The unspoken communication spoke volumes. Then they were stepping away from one another, fading into the darkness.

This had been tonight. Tomorrow was another day.



The Assassin Ch. 03



Sira looked up from the campfire as Elanna came into sight again, a small deer slung over her shoulder. They were resting in the northern forest of Nazas, after two weeks of travel; Elanna had only explained that she was helping the girl.

She had quickly learned that the half-blood wasn't talkative when on the move, and conversation usually died. It was a little frustrating, but Sira kept the annoyance to herself; she was still thankful for the Assassin's help.

Elanna set to work about skinning the deer, deftly cutting into the animal's body. Sira watched in silence, her eyes settling on Elanna instead of the animal under her fingers. She was an attractive woman, mysterious from her clothing and with a sense of feral grace to her movements. But there was also a feeling of pain, even as she hid it so well, Sira could see the hurt in Elanna's gaze, behind whatever emotion she decided to mask it with.

There were plenty of rumours to go around about the infamous Assassin. That her youth was spent learning her skills from pureblood demons, or that she used to be the personal servant of a powerful and corrupt lord in the far off lands of Baldava. Known for their no-mans-land status.

Others circled around her creation, a wayward Warlock giving into the demons she controlled? Or a helpless victim allowed to live after being raped by the malevolent beasts? Half-bloods tended to be sired by the demon, and birthed by a mortal mother, instead of the other way around. If it did happen the other way around, they never looked anything like the father species.

So Elanna's mother must have been mortal, because on the surface, she certainly didn't look demonic. Apart from whenever her eyes turned red.

"Stop doing that."

Elanna's voice snapped her out of thought, making her jump. She hadn't even looked up from the deer. Sira shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through her hair.

"Doing what?" she tilted her head. "Stop trying to figure me out," was the blunt reply, just as the last of the deer's skin came free. "I hate it." She got to her feet, turning away and stretching the hide with the branches of a near by tree. Once satisfied it was secure, she turned back to the camp fire and went about cutting up the deer's flesh.

Sira frowned, confused. "Why?" Elanna didn't look up again when she answered, "it's irritating. Misinformation is the only thing you have to analyze, and none of it is accurate. So stop trying before I start to twitch every time you look at me," Elanna turned to her side, picking up a short and sharpened length of wood, spearing the meat she'd cut and placing it over the fire.

The girl tilted her head, "well, why don't you tell me about yourself then?" she was honestly curious. The Assassin was supposed to be evil, heartless. She still didn't understand why Elanna was helping her.

Elanna looked up, her icy blue eyes piercing in the darkness of her hood; they seemed to glow ever so slightly in the dark it would seem. "I don't want to." Sira frowned, trying to curb her frustration, "why not?" the tenseness in her voice gave her away. A faint smirk curled Elanna's lips, "I don't care what others think of me. I certainly don't care what you think of me. I don't need to be understood by anyone, lesser races aren't worth the effort of playing nice with. I simply exist to either silence morons, steal life; and in this instance, help someone."

Sira glared angrily, "help how?! Why are you helping me if you think so little of me, 'a lesser race'?!"

Elanna's smirk faded, she suddenly became very serious. "Because you share a common value of existence to mine, hardly as extreme, but still along the same lines."

Sira got to her feet, still annoyed. "I share nothing with the likes of you! I'm a noble! I'm kind; I want to help people! I don't want to kill anyone! I'm nothing like you! You're just a monster!"

Elanna moved faster than she expected, and she found herself pressed up against a tree with the Assassin almost completely enveloping her. Sira swallowed, shivering in fear as Elanna's cold eyes stared down at her. She pushed her hands against Elanna's shoulders, but she was unyielding to the girl's lesser strength.

She was suddenly very aware that Elanna could kill her in a heartbeat; even more chilling that she could use many ways to make her suffer before finally ending it. Sira tried to struggle, tried to squirm away, but Elanna grabbed her by the wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head as she pressed closer.

Leaning her head down, her lips brushed Sira's ear, making her shiver again. "You're just like everyone else who came before in my life," her voice was low and deadly, like a poison laced itself over every syllable that passed her lips. "Why shouldn't I just have my way and be done with you? No little sheep of the mortal races ever takes a moment to think..." she was muttering more to herself now, bowing her head into Sira's shoulder. She still held her pinned though, hands wrapped tightly around her upper arms. "Perhaps their life was so terrible they cannot bare mentioning it, hmm? All of you despise me, my kind, we bastard sons and daughters of darkness and corruption. How do you think we grow, hmm? Certainly not the way you do. No where near it..."

Sira swallowed hard, trembling lightly in fear. She had stopped trying to get away, knowing it was useless. Elanna was too strong, and she would only end up getting herself killed faster. However, she started to listen to Elanna's words. "You cannot imagine how cruel your species is, little one. How cruel they are to a mere child, simply because of the blood that runs in her veins. They treat her with hatred and contempt, with no explanation of why she is loathed. Why she is an outcast. Why she is pushed out even by the other children of the village. Why she is forced to take care of herself before she even reaches the age of ten," Elanna's voice had slowly become a mumble, the memories flickering through her mind putting her in a sedated mood of depression. These were not memories she enjoyed. "So many cold eyes, so emotionless, so hateful. Every day those gazes would fall on...her, as if to remind her that she was unwelcome, as if willing the child to die right then and there; and she never understood why." She laughed lowly, the sound sorrowful and cold. "And they seemed so surprised why she finally snapped," a cold smile tilted her lips. "And slaughtered every single one of them down to the last infant crying in their cot."

Sira's eyes widened, and she paled. She knew Elanna was talking of herself, but this was far too painful for her to actually acknowledge it was she who went through whatever hellish childhood she had. Well, she did ask the half-blood about herself; on some level, she should have expected something horrid.

Elanna turned her head slightly, "do you think that child deserved to be treated like that? Before she even had a chance to show her colours. I rather think the lesser races' treatment of her forced, and broke her, into what she became...don't you?" 

Then she pulled away, allowing Sira to fall to her knees as she moved sluggishly back to her side of the camp fire. She took out one of her daggers, poking idly at the half-cooked meat as if nothing had happened, settling down on the ground.

Sira stared quietly at the half-blood, feeling hollow, stupid, and more than anything, she felt sick. She looked away resolutely, and slumped back against the tree Elanna had pinned her to before. She was suddenly unwilling to trust her own voice.

It would take a while for her to repair what she did...



The Assassin Ch. 04



They had yet to be attacked by any agent of the Courland family, but during their travels Elanna had proved herself to be a guardian despite Sira's misstep. Bandits soon found themselves dead in the space of a few heartbeats, as Elanna moved through them with a mix of graceful motion and primal savagery.

The half-blood was patient and curt with the girl, and Sira kept herself in check, making sure not to irritate the Assassin. It made things easier as time dragged on.

Eventually however, when they stopped to make camp once more, Elanna brought up Sira's lack of combat skills.

"It would be nice if I didn't have to protect you all the time," she smirked. Sira merely pouted, crossing her arms.

"I'm not that bad!" 

This was met by a low chuckle, and in a split second Elanna was behind her, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and the other hand held up to her throat, poised as if holding a knife. Sira shivered out of fear, but felt a blush rising up in her cheeks. Elanna leaned her head down, her lips brushing the girl's ear, "are you so sure?" she whispered, her breath washing over Sira's neck.

Sira swallowed hard and pushed away from the Assassin, turning to face her once she was several paces away. "F-Fine...what do you propose we do about it then?"

That had been simple enough.

They had cleared the forest a week back, having moved through several smaller towns, picking up any supplies they needed before moving on. The terrain was becoming steadily mountainous, and pine trees were growing more abundant and thicker, soon enough they would be surrounded by trees again.

Their campsite was right next to a broad river cutting a swathe through the rocky land.

Stepping onto the clear ground, well out of the way of their campfire, Elanna took a relaxed stance. "Come at me." A surprised look came to Sira's face, but a determined look quickly replaced it, eyeing the Assassin up for a moment. Then she tried to hit her, "tried" being the key word. 

Elanna effortlessly leaned - never mind sidestepped - out of the way of the girl's punch. She 'dodged' in the same manner to whatever movement Sira used to try and strike her with before simply ducking out of the way and knocking her legs out from under her with a sweeping kick.

With the air temporarily knocked out of her lungs, Sira lay prone on the ground. She opened her eyes a moment later to see Elanna standing over her with a damnable smirk on her face. "Please tell me that wasn't your best shot."

Sira rolled onto her side and got to her feet, muttering to herself. "What did you expect?" she pouted a little.

A serious expression came to Elanna's face and she crossed her arms. "I expected nobles to teach their children how to defend themselves, you can't always trust guards to protect them. As you fully understand..."

Sira's brows drew together, and she looked up at the half-blood. "Then teach me."

Teach she did - Elanna was surprisingly patient and taught in no rushed pace, allowing the girl time to grow comfortable with each movement until she got them right. Each time they stopped for camp, they would spar and Elanna would teach the girl new things for her to memorize. She picked it up quicker than she expected, but it impressed her nonetheless; the girl had a fire of determination in her. She didn't want to be helpless anymore.

Every time they trained, Elanna could see the girl pushing herself further, harder. Enough for the Assassin to put a little more effort into their sparring at least; it would take years before Sira could actually defeat her in a barehanded fight. She certainly wouldn't be able to kill her if the thought came to her mind. Elanna always smiled bitterly at such thoughts.

----

Elanna ducked her head down, Sira's strike missing her as she weaved and dodged the girl. The half-blood sent out a few hits of her own, but was careful with them, aware of her own skill and strength and not wanting to truly injure Sira.

They were still in the mountains, surrounded by pine trees, pale rocky ground, waterfalls and rivers. The air was cool and crisp, and the sun was starting to set, giving the sky a warm orange hue. 

As they had travelled, Sira eventually brought up her curiosity as to why Elanna was helping her. This time however, she was careful about her wording, afraid of angering the Assassin a second time. Elanna had been quiet for a long time, but eventually talked. Sira had been born into a life or wealth and relative happiness, and then that had been turned upside down. Her father's new wife wanted her dead purely because she existed, a living testament of another flame. If Sira still lived then her father's possessions and wealth would automatically go to her on his death, only temporarily put in the 'care' of his wife. But once she was of age, she would be free to do what she wished with it.

Sira was certainly of age, and so she was a threat to any plans her step-mother had.

She hadn't done anything to warrant this treatment; that was Elanna's reason.

Sira was quiet for the rest of their travel after this, mulling over the half-blood's words and the tone of her voice when she had spoken. She had sounded angry, almost protective. Perhaps she had wanted to do something good for once?

"I think I'm getting good at this!" Sira smiled, dodging one of Elanna's strikes and sending her leg out in a kick.

Parrying the blow, Elanna smirked to herself, and grabbed Sira's arm. Shifting her weight she moved to the girl's side and grabbed her other wrist in the same movement. With a sharp twist, she had spun Sira around to face her and tucked her arms behind her back. "You still need practice."

She had moved so fast that Sira could only look up at the Assassin's shadowed face in surprise. She swallowed, aware of how very close they were. "S-So I see..." she stumbled over her words, blushing again.

Elanna smiled harmlessly, and loosened her grip, making sure Sira wasn't about to fall back before she let go of her completely. "I'll see if the trap I laid caught us anything, don't move from the fire," with that she turned away, disappearing into the darkening forest around them.

Sira watched her until she could've see her form anymore, conflict clear in her gaze. At first she had dismissed it, or tried to, but now it was definitely there. Elanna was difficult to read, she put up a nonchalant, almost playful exterior; most would otherwise describe her as both uncaring and downright cocky. But sometimes, when she wasn't aware Sira was looking, she seemed so sad, as if under everything she just wanted to cry.

Sira frowned deeply, and turned away, walking back to the campfire at the river's edge. They had been following it through the mountains; Elanna said something about a 'natural path'. Settling down, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, staring into the fire. She couldn't help but wonder where this would all lead; maybe she would end up just staying with Elanna. Strangely, the concept of that didn't bother her as much as she thought it would.

Everyone else either didn't care or didn't know about her, where else would she go?



The Assassin Ch. 05



Another week of travel found the pair in the massive city of Praza, nestled against the coast and protected by the surrounding mountains. The architecture was a mix between rugged and magnificent; the air was thick with sea salt with the faintest hum of energy. What kind, Sira couldn't put her finger on; but the city felt distinctly alien to her.

Elanna was more relaxed walking down the crowded streets here, as if she were walking among comrades.

They soon came to a stop upon reaching a shady looking tavern, looking weather worn on the outside and not very welcoming at all with its dark wood structure. Sira halted, and Elanna noticed this, looking over her shoulder at the girl.

"Trust me; this place is fine. Just let me do the talking alright?"

Sira nodded, and they stepped inside. The air was warm and heady scent were thick - the patrons were drab and shifty, sitting at their tables and quietly staring at the newcomers with wary eyes. Sira stayed close to Elanna, unconsciously taking hold of her arm; she seemed not to mind.

The innkeeper stepped into sight, giving Sira a fright because he just seemed to appear from thin air. The robes he wore did nothing to hide the fact that he had not a body to speak of, and darkness was all that could be seen inside the hood. She was almost hiding behind the Assassin when two golden shards of light opened in the darkness.

"Elanna," the voice was ethereal and deep, but distant all the same. Like a ghost speaking through a different dimension. "It has been a while since I felt your presence here; I assume you're little pet is tethered?" the shards of light 'looked' towards her.

Sira frowned at the term; she wasn't Elanna's pet.

"Don't worry, Ytzuk; she won't tell anyone."

So that's what he meant.

'Ytzuk' seemed to accept this, and he looked back to Elanna. "I assume you'll be wanting the usual, with extra accommodation?" he drawled, suddenly seeming bored with this exchange. Elanna simply nodded, and he turned away, floating off behind the bar. He eventually came back and handed her a key, clutched by what appeared to be a hand made from shadows. Sira ignored the blood draining from her face; where were they?

Elanna wordlessly led her away, taking the broad stairs set in the corner of the room.

------

Closing the door behind her, Elanna locked it and attached the keys to her belt. Sira flopped down on one of the beds; there were two of them with a bedside table and soft carpet between them. A large window let the fading sun in on one bed, whilst Sira had settled on the bed closest to the door. A fireplace was set on the opposite wall to the beds, and another carpet was laid in front of it. A mahogany desk was next to the door, with a wardrobe settled in the corner.

Turning, Elanna quirked a brow at the girl and shook her head. "No, no, no. Up," she strode across to her and tapped Sira's leg. Sitting up, Sira tilted her head at the Assassin, "what?"

Elanna gave her an unimpressed look, "sleep on the other bed."

Sira only looked puzzled, "why?"

Elanna frowned, "because I say so."

Sira frowned back; what was going on? She decided to leave it for now, and obliged, getting up and moving over to the other bed, further from the door. "What is this place?" she asked, flopping down at the bed and lacing her hands behind her head. She watched, quietly awaiting the answer, as Elanna unbuckled the heavier parts of her clothing, draping them over the back of the chair at the desk. The leather gauntlets and thick belt were set on top of it though. Pushing her hood down, Elanna sat down on the edge of her bed, leaning down to remove her boots. "Lets call it a 'refuge' for the socially damned; where people similar to me can go without being killed on sight for being what they are. You should have noticed that thrum in the air when we got here; there's many creatures of mystic and dark origin here."

Sira mulled this over for a moment, before a soft sigh passed her lips. "Are you alright?"

Elanna stiffened at the question, and looked over her shoulder, a guarded stare meeting Sira's own. "Yeah...fine."

Silence hung in the air as they merely stared at one another, neither willing to look away first. However, Elanna finally averted her eyes, slipping off her boots and setting them aside. She'd reacted like the question was completely alien and unwelcome; Sira didn't really feel surprised by that. It was likely no one had ever asked her such a thing.

"Why are we here?"

Elanna sighed heavily, "I'm tired, Sira. Lets talk in the morning, alright?" 

Sira stared at the half-breed's back for a moment, "sure; good night, Elanna."

-----

It was well into the night when Sira awoke, comfortable and warm from the bed covers. It had been a while since she slept so well; but a sound had woken her up. Mumbling and muttering, incoherent whispers that made chills run down her spine. Sitting up slowly, she looked around; the room was dark and shadowy. Moonlight came in through the window, but not enough light to help her see that much.

The whispering was coming from Elanna, and Sira slipped out of her bed, carefully stepping over to the other woman. She was shifting and growling every now and then; in the midst of an unpleasant dream? Sira frowned and leaned down, gently resting her hands on Elanna's shoulder.

The half-breed's eyes snapped open, glowing shards of crimson fire in the darkness; she hissed, deep and harsh. Lunging from the bed, Sira had no time to react as Elanna threw her to the floor, pinning her there with hands above her head. "Elanna! It's me!" she shrieked, fear clear in her voice as she stared at those terrible burning eyes.

Elanna's breathing was heavy and quick, her teeth bared before recognition flashed across her face. She slowly relaxed and the redness dimmed from her eyes until the glowing stopped; they became ice blue again. "Sira...?" she sounded - Sira had to think that over again, because she could swear Elanna almost sounded afraid.

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore her own fear. "It's me...it's just me," she said softly.

Elanna was quiet for a few seconds, before she let go of Sira's wrists, and looked away. "I'm sorry..." she murmured, "I thought you were-" she stopped, and shook her head, gritting her teeth. "It doesn't matter...are you okay?"

Sira closed her eyes, gently rubbing her wrists. "Yeah;fine."

Elanna helped the girl to her feet, and quickly turned away. "Next time just leave me be..." she muttered, slipping under the sheets of her bed again and facing away from Sira.

Silence prevailed once more, and Sira frowned to herself. What was that just now? She'd never seen the other like that before. Shaking her head, Sira crawled back into bed and curled up under the sheets; better she just sleep for now.



The Assassin Ch. 06



Sorry for the massive delay. Personal drama and writer's block for this particular story kind of do that... 

================================================

It was a new day and they had not spoken a word to each other about what happened last night. Sira worried about what might be going through Elanna's mind, but made a point of acting like her usual self.

Under the Inn was a complex layout of tunnels and rooms, a lot of them were extra accommodations, small and simple to house many. But several larger chambers were used for training, sparring between combatants or specifically designed and protected with magic to allow others the freedom of learning to control their otherwise unstable powers.

Elanna herself had trained here, and she said it was the perfect place to bring Sira. "Maybe you can get as good as me one day?" she smirked, walking into one such chamber.

Sira raised a brow, "I don't know; I've never killed before."

Elanna paused, looking over her shoulder at the girl with a measuring stare. Sira felt a shiver run down her spine - Elanna's gaze could always make her feel like prey rather than predator. Not that she ever felt like the latter at any time in her life, but those ice blue eyes were like those of a wolf peering down at a mouse under its claws.

Finally turning her eyes from the girl Elanna pushed her hood back, and moved up to a weapons rack. She picked up a beautifully crafted sabre, its vicious edge foretelling of very bloody combat. Elanna whirled artfully on her heel, sweeping out her free arm for dramatic flourish and held the blade point first at Sira's throat. The girl went rigid, staring down at the weapon in mute terror.

Elanna smiled and moved the sword away, switching her hand to the blade itself so she could offer the hilt. Sira relaxed and stared up at the Assassin, confused. Elanna tilted her head, "take it."

Swallowing hard, Sira carefully reached out and curled her fingers around the hilt; the feeling of rough leather and subtle silver embellishments was odd against her soft skin.

Elanna calmly moved behind her and lay her arms over Sira's, showing her how to hold her arms and softly uttering a command to relax. Warm breath fluttered against the girl's ear and Sira found it difficult to relax no matter how much she willed it. Elanna's voice brought her back to earth, "you shouldn't hold the blade as though it will bite you. A blade, wielded correctly, is your closest ally in a fight," such a smooth voice, like velvet wrapped steel. "You must think of it like an extension, something already a part of you and your will."

Sira managed to pay attention for a few seconds, her eyes moved briefly to the bracers Elanna wore, "like your hidden blades?"

A low chuckle, cold as it was, escaped the Assassin, and Sira felt her heart flutter. "Quite."

Elanna stepped back from her and Sira grit her teeth, immediately missing the presence and warmth of another body. However she quickly noticed that Elanna had slowly moved her into a ready stance, and she held the blade comfortably. Looking down at the weapon, Sira's brows drew together. Fighting was one thing, killing was another. The thought of this blade piercing into another being's flesh, their blood draining and spilling over her hands, pooling on the ground...

Sira dropped the sword, backing away from both it and Elanna. "I don't- I don't think I can..." she struggled with her words, her blood quickly turning to ice.

Elanna frowned deeply, a look of mild disdain curling her lips, "what of that harpy that ruined your life? Would you rather let her live?"

Sira froze, a flash of anger moving through her body in one quick wave of fire. Part of her wanted so much to kill that wretched woman, the thought of her whispering false affections and self-serving ideas into her father's mind brought vengeance to her heart. But then part of her reviled against the act of killing itself, she was a gentle soul; she didn't like conflict in the first place.

The girl tried to ignore what exactly Elanna was herself; a killer in every sense of the word. Elanna was an Assassin; she killed either as long as money was involved, or if it suited her mood and whims. A half-demon who was probably looking to turn Sira into a reflection of herself; a monster.

Sira could feel her breath shorten in panic as everything that had happened over the last few months suddenly crashed down on her like a tidal wave. She turned and immediately started running, ignoring Elanna's voice as she called after her in surprise and confusion.

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Sira curled up on herself, arms wrapped around her knees and forehead resting against them. She had made so many turns; she didn't know where she was anymore. Stupid, stupid thing to do in hindsight, running off when she had no idea how to get out in the first place. But her body had simply reacted to the fear of what had happened to her life.

Everything she had known had been ripped away, and in a sudden moment of supposed relief, a stranger had taken her away from what threatened to kill her. Now where was she?

She was in an unknown city, teeming with creatures that she had only heard of in fairy tales to warn her into good behavior when she was a child. Creatures that were considered the worst nightmares of mortals, for good reason; the Innkeeper himself had to be some kind of wraith, an undead spirit that fed upon the souls of the living and left them as rotting, withering husks. 

Sira found herself rocking back and forth, tears running down her face. What the hell was she doing here?

"Hello, little girl."

Sira snapped her head up, letting out a terrified wail and shrinking into the corner as she came face to face with yet another monster.

The beast bared its teeth in a broad grin of serrated fangs, its furless hide slimy and looking similar to sharkskin. Pure black eyes settled on the tiny human female, and the monster gave a hideous bark of laughter. Reaching forwards, its bulky frame moved quicker than one would think, and grabbed Sira by her ankles, hoisting her up until she was hanging upside down. The girl struggled, wiggling this way and that to try and get free as she cried in fear again.

The shark creature opened his jaws, a broad pointed tongue flicking out and lapping against Sira's cheek. "Mmh, tasty little mortal; I think I'll play with you a bit. Don't get much fun down here, always have to hide. But now you've snuck in, and I get to play again," he chuckled harshly; blunt snout nuzzling against Sira's tummy.

She managed to think clearly for a second, "I didn't sneak in! I'm h-here with Elanna! Y-You should k-know her!"

He paused a moment, narrowing his black eyes at her. "Hrm, a pet then? But you ran away, and the mongrel half-breed didn't come to find you; so I guess she won't care if you just disappear. You're mine now, mortal," he grinned hungrily again, and started moving down one of the darker corridors. Sira had run so far that the walls here were damp and covered in moss. The air was thick with a dank smell, and water pooled here and there on the stony ground. What little light came off from sparsely placed magical flames was just barely enough to keep the shadows at bay.

Sira whimpered; any attempt to get free was met by a threatening growl and painful tightening on her ankles. She quietly whispered Elanna's name over and over, now more than anything, hoping and praying that Elanna did indeed care about her.

"Sira!" a voice roared from the end of the damp hallway, and Sira opened her eyes. A pair of glowing ice blue eyes could be seen in a familiar silhouette in the darkness. "Elanna," she sobbed quietly.

The shark turned just as Elanna started running, "let her go now and I might just think about letting you live!" the threat only made his grin widen. "She's my little prize, filth; you don't have the right to tell a pureblood what to do." He lifted his hand, green fire immediately conjuring around it before shooting out in a stream of incineration.

Elanna rolled out of the way, dodging under the shot and moving up quickly. Before the beast knew what was happening, she was directly in front of his face. "I wouldn't think so highly of yourself, 'pureblood'," she hissed, twisting the dagger in his heart violently.

The pureblood fell back with a rasping groan, the fire dying quickly and his eyes turning a milky white.

Elanna narrowed her eyes, and looked to Sira, who lay curled up in a ball on the ground. Shaking her head, the Assassin moved over to her and knelt down, gathering the girl in her arms. Without even a second glance at the dead body she calmly began walking back to their room on the upper floors.

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She was warm, something held her so close and tight, secure, afraid to let go as if to do so would let her disappear forever. Was she home? Had it all just been one confusing, horrible nightmare?

Sira opened her eyes and realized she was indeed curled within someone's strong arms, but when she looked up she met a pale, narrow face and feral, ice blue eyes. There was a unique attraction to such a face, like a lone winter predator given human form, mysterious and beautiful. And yet the eyes were so aloof; even raw, anguished. Sira reached up, her mind still foggy, and gently clasped that porcelain face, afraid of breaking it.

"Sira..." Elanna's strained voice brought her out of her trance and the girl blinked, suddenly awake. They were back in their room and on Elanna's bed; the Assassin must have been holding her since she passed out. Even when she realized she was holding Elanna's face, Sira didn't let go; it felt oddly comfortable. She stared up at those ice hued eyes and felt unable to turn away. Why did they captivate her so? Everything about Elanna frightened her; yet the half-demon could still enthral her so easily.

A hand grazed over her lower back and she became aware of Elanna's arms wrapped firmly around her. 

Sira's name left her once more in a weak, uttered breath and Elanna dipped her head, suddenly meeting the girl's lips with her own. Sira frowned, confused and fumbling as she tried to return the Assassin's kiss. She had never done this, not even thought of it with women – it felt so odd, but far from wrong.

Elanna pulled away after a moment, avoiding Sira's eyes. "Go back to sleep," she murmured, suddenly distant in spite of their embrace. Sira was bewildered but could hardly say no to more rest, she was far too tired to question what just happened; maybe in the morning. Certainly later...