Emile took hold of her hand and smiled in return. In accordance with her glowing appearance, her hands were also luxuriously soft, not a callus on them.
"The Collector—" Emile repeated, "what exactly do you collect?"
She retracted her hand and returned to her seat. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she looked up at Emile.
"When you first heard Jumper's name did you wonder what it was he jumped? Let's just say I collect a slew of different things."
Emile awkwardly looked around. He wasn't prepared for her to dodge his question and, quite frankly, he didn't know how to recover from the situation.
"Anyway!" The Collector thankfully continued on her own, "I'm gonna need a blood sample and then you can rest for the remainder of today, get settled in, that sort of thing. First thing tomorrow we'll do your initiation, we'll give you the packet that explains everything, and I don't know, we'll get to know you hopefully!"
She reached over into the bag that was hidden behind the chair and pulled out a fanny-sized leather pouch. The pouch unraveled and revealed an assortment of different tools: scissors, needles, mini saws, clamps, a whole surgical table fit in her bag.
She grabbed one of the needles and rummaged through her bag again, this time pulling out a flask.
"Come come!" Her voice went up a pitch, like she was talking to a dog.
Emile stepped closer and held his arm forward, unsure of what part of him she would be taking blood from. The Collector delicately held his hand and lifted his index finger out.
With her other hand she punctured the tip of his finger and quickly held the flask below, but blood never fell. Emile's body closed and healed the small hole before enough blood could form a drop.
"Huh." She said aloud, "Well I was not prepared for that."
Before Emile could even say anything, she quickly grabbed the small knife in her pouch and thrust it through Emile's hand.
Blood flowed down the handle of the blade and into the flask. Then she ripped the knife out and sealed the flask. She had everything back in her bag before Emile's hand even got to heal.
"Sorry about that—I was afraid if I asked you'd say no." The Collector shot another one of her contagious smiles at Emile. Buckling under the attention, he smiled in return.
"Oh it's okay! I am a healer after all!"
From there Jumper and Emile proceeded to the right, towards a staircase that traveled both ways. Jumper and Emile went up the stairs one floor which took them to a single, short hallway with doors facing each other on each end.
Jumper approached the door on the left and pushed it open. Emile entered and stood directly across from the room's only window. It was a large rectangle in the center of the wall that overlooked a steady rise up the side of the volcano.
Besides the window a large bed stood while a nightstand lay below the window. On the left a similarly brown desk and dresser were pushed against the wall.
"This will be your room from now on. You're free to do as you like tonight and tomorrow someone will summon you for the briefing. It's been a pleasure." Jumper bowed as he did when they first met and closed the door behind him.
Emile walked around the room. He opened every drawer and sat at the desk. He jumped onto the bed and tried out each pillow.
He had made it.
'Wait…'
'I was kidnapped.'
Emile has grown accustomed to traveling with Jumper and Blood. And especially after they removed his harness and gag, he didn't feel like a prisoner anymore.
But he was. He was a prisoner, locked in a beautifully decorated prison. Is there even a door out of this place? They entered through one of Jumper's rifts.
Emile sat up and looked at his window. Is it breakable? Or is this some other worldly bullet-proof glass? He couldn't break it now, he couldn't even try.
If he tried and broke it he couldn't leave now, he doesn't even know where in the mountains they were, how far Jumper's rift had taken them.
Emile suddenly remembered what Jumper said earlier, a 'terrorist' organization. Put simply, an organization that creates terror.
Emile wished he was confused and wished he didn't understand why he was taken, but it was obvious. He's a healer, a good healer at that.
With him around, the organization can make riskier plans, act more often, recruitment might even be easier since people would be relieved knowing they had a healer waiting for them.
That being said, Emile still knew nothing about the people he was around, the group he had become a part of.
All Emile did know was that they assassinated a foreign kingdoms Queen and enjoyed warm decorative themes. He also knew the three people he had already met: Blood, Jumper, and Collector.
Blood is a fifteen year old boy. He has shoulder length black hair and red eyes, a thin frame and is recognizably short. His gift allows him to freely manipulate, presumably, human blood and crystallize it. He's arrogant, condescending, and temperamental.
Jumper is a middle-aged gentleman. He has slicked back black hair with multiple strands of gray. He's tall and neither over or underweight. His gift lets him create rifts between surfaces, the distance and requirements are unknown. He's calm, observant, and reclusive.
Collector is a middle-aged woman, but looks a decade younger than Jumper. She has long hazel hair with a single, thick streak of gray. She's about the same height as Emile and is proportionately gifted, no part of her body too big or too small. Her gift is completely unknown and she's friendly, obsessive compulsive, and at least a sociopath.
Between the three members Emile has met, he couldn't find an authentic connection between any of them. They all have considerable age gaps and different personalities. Emile also still did not know the purpose of the organization. For what purpose would a fifteen year old join a terrorist group?
Emile didn't know, but he hoped to find out. And he should be finding out tomorrow, after initiation, whatever that entails.