I divided my time between my two lovers. Trying to make sense of what was happening to me.
Alex pestered me continuously for more information about when I would finally fulfil my mission. He was getting to a very dangerous stage with me. He always got on my nerves, but more and more I found myself imagining strange and painful ways that I would employ to shut him up. His constant complaints and bickering were driving me mad.
My patience was waning quickly. Not just towards Alex—though mainly there—but towards everyone. I knew that it wasn’t really personal. It was all due to my loss of control. Ever since I was thrown head-on into a solitary life, my very existence depended on me. I was the only one that I could count on. In the early years, before I learned the price of trust, there was a close call when I was almost kidnapped and sold into slavery. It taught me never to trust anyone. No matter who they were or how many other people vouched for them. I controlled what happened to me. No one else. Even my time as an Assassin for the Council was a calculated step in my goal to avenge my mother. A slight loss of control there would mean my death. If they found out… Well, it wouldn’t end well. That was for sure.
My visit to the Shaman opened up a can of worms. What the fuck was going on here? Was he the one my mother had been talking about? He had to be. There were too many coincidences. He knew me. Or at least knew of me. He hinted at things that I had never told anyone. Then he started to talk nonsense. That stupid prophecy. I didn’t really believe that people could predict the future with any real measure of certainty, any more than I could. Sure, there were things that were obvious, everyone with half a brain could add two and two together and come up with something close to four. I always believed that Oracles and seers were charlatans. All of them, with the queen-bitch Aquanaris heading off the line. Askuwheteau struck me as surprisingly genuine. What he said struck a nerve. Where did that leave me? It was completely frustrating. I didn’t know what to believe. All of this. The whole mission. Both of my lovers. They were distractions that I didn’t need right now.
Even the peace that I felt with the pack wasn’t enough to calm my frayed nerves. I found myself snapping at people. Gabriel tried to sooth me; he must have realised that my change in demeanour was the result of the visit to the Shaman.
‘Are you ok, Trish?’ he finally asked as I downed yet another bottle of beer. I wasn’t even tasting it. It just flowed down my throat in an attempt to quench a thirst that had nothing to do with liquids.
I bit back my retort. He was just concerned. There was no reason to bite his head off. ‘Yeah,’ I replied trying to smile. I wasn’t kidding him; he saw through it.
‘Why don’t you go back to the Shaman?’ Was he reading my mind? ‘Maybe he can answer whatever it is that is eating you up.’ He knew me so well.
‘He’ll just cause more questions,’ I countered.
Gabriel took my hand and squeezed it in support. There wasn’t much more that he could do.
I was being a bitch, and I knew it. But there was nothing I could do about it. I was so frustrated with myself that I was taking it out on everyone close. Here they just accepted it and took the brunt of my bad moods. I was avoiding Metisse and the clan after the last visit when I almost bit his head off. It was counter-productive. But I couldn’t help it.
The next beer didn’t help. Neither did the one after that.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 40
As the sun set over the mountains, I left Gabriel in anger. We fought. I don’t really know what about. My nerves were shredded. My moods dark and dangerous. I was not easy to be around. It hurt Gabriel. I know. I could see it in his eyes, in his stance. He tried to make me happy. Everything I asked for he did, as long as it didn’t interfere with his status as the Alpha. But nothing was enough for me. I needed him. Wanted him. But I pushed him away at the same time. He was becoming as frustrated as I was. I hardly recognised myself anymore.
I rode the bike all night. Not going to any specific destination. Just riding. Trying to get the wind to blow the anger out of my head. It didn’t work. Nothing did. I felt really bad. A failure. My one goal in life—vengeance for my mother—was slipping away from me. The mission that should have been just a side step was starting to engulf me. And not in the way it should.
The need that I experienced now was new for me. Proud of my self-control all my life, this feeling of disorientation was terrifying. My control was what brought me through the time after I lost my mother; the only family that I ever knew. I felt abandoned. Then my anger transformed to survival. No more than a child, life on my own was hard, vicious even. The Council hadn’t found what they were looking for when they killed Mum. They searched for me for many years. Thankfully they had no idea what I looked like. I moved constantly, living off what I could steal. I slept in forests, in caves, dilapidated abandoned barns.
Mum home-schooled me to read and write. I was a voracious reader, devouring any books I could get my hands on. I educated myself in more than one way. Savvy to the ways of the underworld and armed with the knowledge of the books and later the Internet, I survived.
Slowly I found a place in the world. The tough life made me hard. I learned how to kill. First, those who hunted me, later those I thought deserved to die. My prowess increased and with that my status in the paranormal underworld. All that time I was consumed with the obsession to gain vengeance for my mother. I pushed any feelings or emotions to the back of my mind and locked them away. I had no use for them. Only anger and brutality. Those I nurtured.
I made a name for myself, gaining contracts that allowed me to live in more opulence. I became wealthy, though I hid it away. In my line of work, secrecy was a survival necessity.
Just when I was at odds on how to get closer to my ultimate targets, fate intervened. My reputation preceded me. Cantix, then on his way up in the Council, heard of me and saw the potential for another paranormal Assassin.
The paranormal world is, out of necessity, one that is strongly regulated. It is a secret world, and its existence depends on staying just that—concealed. Humans think they rule the world. We leave them in that delusion. They are small-minded and would not be able to get their little brains around what was living around them. The paranormal has infiltrated all levels of human society, and we pull the strings. The few of our kind that exposed themselves to humans paid the ultimate price. The witch hunts. Inquisitions. All the result of clashes between humans and us. So we stay in the shadows. Became the stuff of myths and later, horror films. Humans relegate Werewolves and Wizards to the realms of fantasy.
They have no idea.
My first encounter with Cantix had been a difficult one. It strained even my nerves. He sent a group of wizards to pick me up. I killed two of them before they managed to fabricate some kind of kinetic energy cage around me. With the assistance of a dragon, they moved the cage to the Council’s hall. I was unceremoniously dumped in front of the horseshoe table, while the Wizards licked their wounds.
Cantix was the only Council member present. He observed the Wizards with open disdain. The lead Mage stumbled up to the platform but was ushered away with a wave of Cantix’s hand. The dismissal was clear. Cantix stood up and approached the kinetic cage. I stayed put; observing the man as he did me. I had never seen anyone that big up close. Sure, I knew what he looked like. Everyone in the paranormal world did. He was legendary. Up close he was much more impressive. His gilded cloak emphasised the size of the man, giving the illusion that he was even taller than the ten feet he was. He moved with long strides, easily spanning the distance to the cage with five steps where I would have needed at least twenty. He walked around the bubble. I stayed put. I flatly refused to show any nerves or follow his movements. He was just another bully. I bowed to no one.
He finished his circling and stood in front of me.
‘Release her,’ he ordered. The Wizards looked at each other in shock, then at the lead Mage. He nodded and they broke their spells, movi
ng backwards as they did, just to be sure that they were out of range of my double-bladed knives.
‘Welcome Altermichan.’ Cantix was completely at ease. ‘I asked the wizards to invite you here,’ he continued.
‘Yeah,’ I answered, ‘I declined.’
Cantix laughed. A deep rumble without any mirth. He was cold. Dangerous. Well so was I. ‘Obviously,’ he said, observing the wounded Wizards. ‘Join me in a drink.’ It wasn’t really a request, more of an order. I let that one pass and followed him up to the table. Cantix took his place on the gigantic throne and a chair was brought to the opposite side of the table for me. I sat. Crystal cut glasses filled with wine were set in front of us. I waited until Cantix took a first sip of his before I took a glass. I sniffed the sweet liquor. Too sweet, not exactly my taste, but now was not the time to be picky. Not with him.
‘You have quite a reputation.’ He was finally getting down to the reason for all of this. I stayed silent. ‘How would you like to continue your vocation in the service of the Council?’ As if I had any choice. I was acutely aware of the fact that saying "no" would be a death sentence. The Wizards who brought me here were of a completely different order than Cantix. I wouldn’t get out of here alive if he didn’t want me to.
On the other hand, I had been racking my brains on how to get into the inner circle of the Council for the past two years. This offer was just too good to pass up on. I would work for them, sure. But that was only temporary. Until I found the information that I was searching for. Then, after exacting my revenge, I would disappear. Or die, whichever came first.
‘You have exceptional abilities,’ he continued. ‘You are a shapeshifter?’ It was barely a question. I just nodded. It benefitted me to have the council think I was a shapeshifter. They hold a higher status than the lowly creatures that can only shift into one form other than human. Shapeshifters can take on any form they want. This makes them highly versatile and able to infiltrate any paranormal environment. What I really was had to remain a secret, at any cost. It would make me the hunted instead of the hunter.
‘You will answer to the Council, and to me.’ Yeah, to him then. The Council part was just for anyone listening in. Who’s he kidding? Not me. ‘I will supply you with a target, and you will take care of the wet work for me.’
‘Paranormals?’ I dared to ask.
‘Anyone that needs to disappear.’ OK, so that includes humans. That’s new for me. I’d only taken on contracts for my own kind up to now. A reaction from my side wasn’t called for, so I left it at that.
‘I have a first contract for you.’ He pushed an envelope towards me. The fat beige container was a disappointment. The entourage we were in called for a parchment or something ancient and dramatic, not just a simple brown paper envelope that you could buy in any supermarket. I was becoming cynical again. Time to reign that in. Not the right time, or the right place. But hey, that’s me.
I left the envelope where it was and continued to sip my wine.
‘I trust that we have an agreement,’ Cantix said. I couldn’t remember that we’d actually discussed anything about my new job, or the salary for that matter. But in his world, all was clear. OK, I’d run with that. See where it brought me. I wasn’t in this for the money anyway. I had enough of that. More than a hundred years of contracts have given me a nice fortune.
I nodded.
‘Good,’ he said as he stood up to leave. I remained seated. That resulted in a collective gasp from the Wizards and a smile from Cantix. He understood my defiance and let this one pass. I couldn’t do it again. I knew that. But I had to make my own statement. With a last gaze at me, he turned and left the hall.
I sat in the chair, sipping at the nauseatingly sweet wine. God, how can anyone drink this shit? I put the half empty glass down on the table, picked up the envelope and made my way out of the hall with a last ‘see ya guys. It was fun,’ towards the cowering Wizards.
Since then I take care of the Council’s dirty work. I ‘m not the only one; there are more assassins. The power the Council has isn’t accepted everywhere or by all paranormal creatures. We are called upon to bring the recalcitrant ones back under the Council’s umbrella. Or whip as I call it. The past year and a half I handled thirteen assassinations. Not a massive amount, but more than enough to gain their trust.
And here I was in Waisland. On one of the biggest missions they had given me, and I was making a mess of it.
No worse; I was making a mess of me.
Chapter 41
‘The owl, that was you?’ I asked Askuwheteau.
‘Yes,’ he answered, closely examining my reactions. I had no way to process all the things that were going on inside my head. Desperate for at least some answers, I drifted back to the Shaman. I was alone this time.
* * *
The sound of my bike was muted in the dark hours of the night as I passed through the gates of the reservation. No one was out. A single dog barked in the distance but was silenced by its owner’s shout. No lights were on. It was even more desolate than in the daytime, something I thought would be impossible. I drove through the village at a snail’s pace, only opening the engine up after I had left the slumbering inhabitants. The short drive from there to Askuwheteau’s cabin was over in minutes. I approached the cabin carefully. Slowly. There were lights on in the building. The horses that stared at me the first time I was there came out of the open barn to investigate. Again, one horse let out a neigh. A warning. For a moment there I thought I saw a red glow in its eyes. Was it more than it looked? Probably. Anything was possible here.
I killed the engine, kicked out the stand and dismounted from the bike. Closely watched by the horses, I made my way up to the door. I hesitated. Why the hell was I here? I berated myself for my foolishness. Just as I was about to turn and walk back to the bike, Askuwheteau’s voice broke through the silence.
‘Come in Altermichan. You are welcome.’
Right, well, fuck. Now I couldn’t run anymore. He knew it was me. Of course, he did.
I opened the door and walked in. The big man was in the same seat as when I saw him last time. Once again sipping a drink. It made me wonder whether this was his usual pose; what he did all day long. I stood in front of him, just inside the door. Fidgeting. My hands wouldn’t stay still. I finally crossed my arms in an attempt to calm down. He smiled. It was a warm smile, one that soothed me a bit. I looked up from his smile to his eyes and lost myself in them. They were a kaleidoscope of colours. Yellows, reds, blues. All at the same time, but not. The shades shifted constantly in the light of the candles and few lamps that were lit. I couldn’t remember this from the first visit and was completely mesmerised. The tension in my shoulders eased up. The knotted muscles relaxed. A warmth filled my body, starting from the pit of my stomach and radiating upwards towards my heart and my brain. On the way it burned away any stress it encountered and left me feeling blissful and completely at ease. Pressure that built up in the past weeks flowed out of my body effortlessly. Leaving a peace behind that I doubted I ever experienced before.
Askuwheteau blinked and released me from the connection. My brow lifted as I opened and closed my own eyes in an attempt to make sense of what just happened. My hands moved of their own accord to my face and I rubbed my eyes. I felt the wet tears on my cheeks and realised that I had been crying. I had been totally unaware of the tears that streamed down my face. Normally I would have berated myself for such needless emotions. Now it was okay. In a weird and wonderful way, it was good. Maybe relaxing my self-control every now and then had some merit after all.
‘You knew I’d be back.’ It wasn’t a question. He nodded. ‘Well, here I am. Now what?’ I really had no clue.
‘Whatever you want,’ he answered. Oh great. Fat help that was. He indicated a chair behind me, and I sat down. The Shaman poured a large quantity of whisky from the bottle next to him into a second glass that just happened to be on the same table. Coincidence? No. He’d been expecting me.
‘You know all about what is happening. Don’t you?’ I finally asked once the burn had receded. He nodded again as he sipped his own drink.
‘About Metisse?’ Another nod.
‘The Council? My mission?’ Again.
Ok, I’d have to process that.
‘What else do you know?’
‘I know that you will do the right thing.’
‘And what is that?’
Askuwheteau laughed. ‘Sorry, no short cuts. You have to figure this out for yourself.’
I hadn’t come here for that. ‘Why? Why can’t you help me? You seem to know everything.’ There was an edge to my voice.
He became serious. ‘I don’t know everything. No one person does. You are going to play a pivotal part in what is to come. But for that it must be completely your own choice. I cannot tell you what to do or influence your way from here.’
‘Great!’ I threw up my hands. ‘What the hell use are you then?’ He didn’t react to my ranting. I was pissed off. Mad as hell. I felt manipulated with every turn that I made. Mainly by the Council, but not only by them. At least Cantix was clear about his motives. No, scratch that. He was bullshitting me too. And now this. Now the Shaman, who obviously knew a lot more than he was saying, refused to help me. Throw the mysterious meeting with Charmaine in the mix and it was a recipe for frustration.
‘I won’t tell you what to do, but I may be able to help you clarify some things. Give you a bit more foundation for your choice,’ Askuwheteau added, just when I was about to throw in the towel. I let that stew for a while and stalled by taking another sip of the whisky. I don’t usually drink the stuff, but it was a welcome distraction now.
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