I don't know how Cordellus has managed to get me to agree, but as I am heading to the villa that was to house my next kill, he is right there, by my side.
I don't have a team per se, but the organization makes sure to include all the details I would want to know to finish off my target. From his picture to his daily habits, from his schedule for the day to his love interests… nothing is missing, except the name of course. I never care about knowing who my targets truly are. Knowing their lives is enough for me. Why should I burden myself with a name?
Cordellus and I enter through the back door as planned.
We're sneaking about the house stealthily. And the plan is going smoothly until Cordellus freezes and starts sniffing.
He holds out a hand in my direction and I come to a halt.
I give him the stink eye and he rolls his eyes.
"I have a feeling this is going to get messy," he whispers.
It is my turn to roll my eyes at him. I then carry on walking, making a beeline to the master bedroom where my target is supposed to be enjoying his favorite TV show. Yes, I know every fucking little detail.
And no, the saying ignorance is bliss is totally off the mark. Knowledge is the key to success.
I am taking out both sayings out of context but that's what I do – distract myself – when I feel an adrenaline rush, which usually start the moment I enter foe territory.
I approach the master bedroom, Cordellus hot on my tails, still whispering about this being a bad idea.
In my ten years on the field, I have never had a case of cold feet about killing off a target. And I am not about to start now.
"Would you shut up?" I whisper-yell while sending him a glare.
He holds both hands up in the air in surrender. "At least I warned you."
With a kick, I slam the door of the master bedroom open, and point my gun at the target.
The man who had been laying on the side while watching his favorite tv-show, namely Bones – old school, I know, but I'm not here to judge him – startles up into a sitting position.
"What the hell?" He cries out before his gaze focuses on the gun I am holding.
I don't bother asking him for any last words. I don't find his face the slightest bit amiable. I might not know what he does for a living that upsets the organization, but his eyes are almost as empty as mine – and that usually is a dead giveaway.
"Hello John," I tell him, and I vaguely hear him say that his name isn't John. "Goodbye John."
Two seconds and two bullets later – one to the head, the other to the chest – and the man is dead.
"Did you just quote the vampire diaries?" Cordellus asks in a bewildered tone.
"What can I say?" I shrug. "I love Katherine. I am amazed you know about it too."
I then turn to Cordellus, about to tell him how the kill went smoothly, when my gaze falls on a woman not too far away.
She is in nothing but a towel. Her hair is damp. And I can only guess that she was under the shower until I shot whoever this scumbag was to her.
"Uh-oh," Cordellus says and I wonder why he seems worried by her.
I look at the woman. She is not in hysterics and I wonder if she is in shock. She closes her eyes briefly, but when she opens them, she is basically glaring daggers at me.
She is positively enraged.
"I am sorry but I make a habit of not leaving behind any witnesses," I tell her as I point my gun at her.
"Foolish human!" She mutters and then she waves her hand to the side.
My gun gets propelled out my hand.
I look in shock at my gun, and then focus on the woman.
"What the hell just happened?" I mutter.
"She's a witch, you fool," Cordellus hisses at me, sounding displeased.
"You could have warned me," I reprimand him, half displeased myself.
"I tried," is his retort.
Even, if I had known there was a witch in the house, I wouldn't have aborted the mission.
We have always been taught, ever since we learnt to aim, that a target is to be killed in a timely manner: Not before and not after the timing we're given. They need to serve a purpose and to be rendered harmless to the cause – the organization's cause.
"Did you finish your bickering, you old couple?" She teases, a smirk adorning her face.
My gun is too far from me, so I prepare myself for hand-to-hand combat. I get into position – a fighting stance.
She has the nerve to laugh at me. And I see Cordellus from the corner of my eye face-palm.
"Look," he begins talking and I wonder who he is addressing, "We want you no harm. We were here for a job. We did our job. Now, we'll be on our way."
Why the hell would he give away so much? And why does he sound like he is trying to placate her?
He is immortal, for god's sake!
"Listen, vampire," she spits out the term as if disgusted, and then carries on, "and listen well, for I won't repeat what I'm about to say. That job you speak so carelessly about was my lover."
"In our defense, we didn't know."
She scoffs at that.
And I briefly wonder how I can take her out.
She looks harmless. But Cordellus – an immortal vampire – looks terrified of her.
And then, she starts chanting. I can't figure out what she's saying, but I understand from the pain I feel all over me that she's casting some sort of spell.
I double over.
What have I gotten myself into? Will this kill be my last? I think to myself. I feel partly relieved. If this is how the journey is going to end, at least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman.
Cordellus rushes over to me and holds me up by the arm.
"Oh, how sweet," she coos when she finishes chanting. "Allow your lover boy to help you out."
I am not dead, I realize.
And then as I stand to my feet, I come to another realization.
I can't see.
"What did you do?" I cry out.
"Let's just say that you took something from me, so I took something from you," she says and I can almost imagine the smirk on her face. "You'll be able to see in the daylight, and will lose your sight when the moon peeks."
Cordellus starts dragging me away, and then she adds, almost in afterthought, "Oh, one more thing… come the seventh full moon, you'll be dead."
I heave a sigh as I allow Cordellus to lead me away from the master bedroom.
Looks like I have been cursed! Yay me! Please note the sarcasm.
This is not how I wish to die. But then again, I yearn for a natural death, and that is just plain foolishness on my part, I realize.