Chapter 3.

Early morning chill lifted my hair as I stood with my hands in my pockets, watching Luca's from across the street.

My temples pounding, I squinted, watching as the small Italian family got up and began their morning routines. Before long, the smell of pastry filled my nose along with early morning coffee. I remained where I was as my stomach protested and my eyes burned from the pale morning light.

Dominic's voice rung in my head. "Lidiya... We've known you for two and a half years and you never told us that Scarlet wasn't your actual name?!" I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

It stank of blood.

I stank of blood.

Old blood from old wounds.

I watched as Luca waddled up to the front door. I could see every line in his face as it folded down into disappointment. I visited once a week like clockwork – sometimes more – but I never missed a Monday morning with his family... Until today.

Confusion folded down onto his face as his only still living son walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, his mouth moving. My eyes burned as I watched them until they finally both saw me. Staring like a predator.

I lowered my eyes and a disobedient tear slipped out as my chest constricted and burned.

My time in New York has reached its end. I should not have been so sloppy. As soon as I saw the Vasiliev's I should have packed up and ran, or demanded reassignment.

I had been taught control. To not let my feelings control me.

Feelings are a blunt weapon young one, they can be used to get the job done but they are not effective and there is never any real assurance of death.

With a sigh I turned and walked away in the opposite direction of Luca's, shoving my shaking fists into my pockets.

Do not get attached, young one, you are a weapon first and a person last.

"Weapon first. Person last." I repeated those words drilled into me long ago. Weapon first, person last... Always.

Anastasia met me outside of the office building in which our target lived. The burned coffee I had bought earlier laid abandoned in my left hand, slightly crumpled. She watched me for a tense moment.

"So..." Her fingers reached up to rub the back of her neck, shoulders hunched.

"Come." We turned and walked up the front steps of a large, older apartment complex. It was a startling difference to the shining building standing on the other side of the road.

My mouth pursed, deciding, as I looked at all the names next to the buzzer. There was new, scribbled writing pushed into one of the slots.

M. Houser.

Well that is an odd name. I buzzed every button except theirs and waited. Only one person answered.

"Who is it?" The voice was male and I wracked through my brain quickly.

"Howdy there. Sorry to disturb ya, but see, my friend in 3C isn't answering, and I'd really like to get in." My voice expertly gained a practiced Southern accent, stolen off of an actual person I had come into contact with. There was a brief pause on the other side, Anastasia burning holes into my skull with eyes filled with half-horror.

"Yeah, sure thing." The front door buzzed and clicked before I pulled it open. I took the stairs at a brisk pace, Anastasia struggling to stay behind in her heeled ankle boots. A dull tap with every step echoing in the silence behind me.

"Hey! Wait up!" My steps did not slow as we rose. My companion breathless by the time we were halfway up. "Scarlet dammit!" I ignored her. She had to learn the first rule of working with me. 'Keep up and do not whine'. Followed closely by 'dress as if you need to run at any moment'.

Also if she hated every moment of this, she wouldn't consider doing it again. That was the last thing I needed hanging behind me when I left.

It wasn't long before I opened the door to the roof. My footsteps softly thumping on the floor. As expected the rooftop had a nice view of the apartment, even if we was a bit lower than the target's floor. We didn't need a sniper point, just a view point that wasn't too easy to point out. I could hear Anastasia gasping for air as she burst out, face red. "I told you to wait up god dammit!" As I was turning to look at her properly she thrust a hand out.

My body bent backwards as her telepathic attack filled my consciousness.

Bright sparks of pain lanced about. I could feel her presence burning my neurons. A thick cloud of anger sparking and flaming. A gasp of pain pushed its way up and out of my throat as I struggled to concentrate. Bright glaring lights, strong overpowering smells of sweet and sour, dank and dusty, and everything in between I had ever experienced.

Alexei's face briefly snapped past in all the kaleidoscopic images and pain. I held onto his image as I thought of all of the pain, of the stab wounds, gun shots, bones breaking.

It was her turn to let out a gasp as my past pains filled her own head.

I was panting as I rose out of the burning fog, determination thrumming under my skin. I watched her body fall to its knees under my red vision. If I focused hard enough I could give her an aneurysm from her own power.

Control was not hers anymore. I could do anything to her. Leave her a vegetable in her own body.

It was so tempting as the Rage bubbled in the core of my bones.

That's it, young one. Give her MORE.

With a large effort, I decided to collect myself. A deep breath in and out, and I stopped the images, stopped the trauma and the left over pain. I stopped everything and cleared my mind completely.

Her consciousness crawled out of my head like a wounded, dying animal seeking a corner to say its last goodbyes. My red vision died down, other colours returning as she fell completely, sigh escaping glossy lips.

"How many times must I tell you to stay the hell out of my head." Her body was shaking as she rose. Every muscle looked like it was screaming for her just to lay back down. With a small shriek she rushed at me, fist out at the ready, thumb tucked in instead of out.

Time began to slow as my feet dragged to the side, the concrete under my feet making a little scratching sound. "Lovely." My mouth muttered as she tripped over herself and fell forwards. Any half-hearted attempt at an attack fell through her fingers and her amateur stance.

Her body seemed to be recovering, but not fast enough. "You seriously want to pick a fight with me?" She turned back around, this time her fingers were stretched out, ready to claw. "As you wish." It was easy to fight hand to hand; I didn't even need to channel the slightest bit of Rage in street fights. Which is also a good way to get a bit of money. Especially without revealing yourself.

My right arm locked and the flat of my arm pushed away her oncoming hand. Her left hand came in, going after my hair. As soon as she had a decent hold and began pulling me forward, I followed through. A resounding CRACK filled the air as my forehead hit her nose, just short of breaking. I wasn't cruel enough to put my whole weight into it. Just enough to make her learn her lesson and knock her on her arse.

She stumbled backwards, tripping and falling onto her behind hard enough for her teeth to click together. My heavy boot fell between her legs, knee bending, as my fist swung around in a perfect right hook. She squealed, bringing her hands up to protect herself sloppily. Seconds felt like minutes until she pulled her arms down in shock to find I had stopped just short of hitting her. Her watering eyes met my stony face, then back to my fist.

"I-I-" I stepped backwards giving her free space to nurse her sore nose and growing black eyes. I could feel the muscles on my face. Hard as stone, unmoving into that cold empty stare I saw in myself so many times.

"You obviously have no experience fighting. So do not pick a fight with someone who does. They might not be as kind as I am." She sat there. Just... Staring. I did not enjoy being stared at. "Stand up." She did as I ordered, with head-snapping speed. "Try to hit me again. This time, thumb out of fist." Anastasia glanced from her fist to my face again.

"But-But then you'll just hit me again." I rolled my eyes as well as my shoulders as I shook myself up.

"Just get your hands up Anastasia..." Pausing, I considered telling her something else that would most likely fall upon deaf ears. "And do not be afraid to take a punch. That hesitation and holding back could get you killed." She copied my stance and brought her fists up. Her eyes sharpening.

There we go. She has a backbone somewhere in there.

She came at me again. This time determination, instead of anger, moving her. Her left fist moved first, easily battered away by my forearm. "Harder," Her other fist quickly followed, battered away again. "Hit me." Her left fist wavered as it came towards me again. At the last moment, it changed course, towards my shoulder. "Do not be a little bitch. HIT ME LIKE YOU WANT TO HURT ME!"

"I can't," Her hands dropped and she sighed. "And don't call me that." Rolling my eyes, I struck out with my foot. It connected to the side of her knee, driving her down in a heap.

"You do not want me to hurt you." Her eyes stared at me, wide in shock. "You are not meant to fight. Next time someone goes to attack you... Incapacitate mentally then run."

"They'll just attack back like you did." I stepped over her, considering.

One hit young one, that's all you need to do. She's safer dead. She cannot handle the Real World. Do it, young one. NOW!

The thought withered and died away as I walked away from Anastasia.

"Do it quickly and they will not have the time." My eyes took in the gleaming glass of the building across the street. "Now for practice... Find someone to trigger the fire alarm." It took her half a minute to line up with me.

"I can't do that." Voice shaking slightly, she moved in my peripherals as I stared down our target in a few floors above. "Not this far away." My eyes began to glow read, and when I looked at Anastasia she flinched. A sharp pain erupted in my chest briefly.

"You use ill intent to get into minds easily. Try to do it calmly without any bad thoughts and they will not even know you are there. Focus, and you can do anything." My point made, I dismissed further argument. My red gaze watched vigilantly, moving from one person to another with ease.

On the second floor, a woman in an expensive pant suit, stood. Her whole body was rigid as she moved to a wall near her. The world slowed as Anastasia's breath flowed in, and out.

Good.

Clear as day in my red gaze, I saw the woman's fingers reach out, and gently pull on a fire alarm.

Eyes, immediately returning to Eric Koch's floor, I watched. "Very good." The target in question rose immediately as the alarm rung. People closer to the elevator than he, rushed towards the staircase, leaving their small cubicles.

But not all. Bodyguards. Four of them, all muscles rippling. The windows of the floor became tinted, as expected. Luckily, I learned long ago that my gaze could see through it when it – as some people called it – "Activated". Their blurred outlines moved backwards as they started to move in the opposite direction as us. "Shit." Quickly glancing around I saw a place to my left to move to.

"It's tinted, you won't be able to- HEY!" Her voice became quieter as I teleported while she was talking. Braced upon a concrete ledge, gargoyle-like, I watched.

They continued to move, but now I could see their blurred outlines better. Further down the hallway there was another elevator, incomplete. Koch's hand came upon the elevator, his hand running along the wall until the silver bracelet dangling from his wrist glowed with artificial light... And he and his bodyguards disappeared behind the doors.

Interesting... I bet that is controlled downstairs.

My red glow died away, colour returning to its usual shades.

I'm going to need to do some more recon... Without Anastasia.

And the first target... One of his bodyguards.

They would know all I needed to know.