“Name’s Mark Cooper, but everyone calls me Coop.”
Isis shook her head. “Nope.”
“I noticed you came with others,” Coop mentioned. Isis raised an eyebrow but didn’t look at the odd man. He certainly was determined, she’d give him that.
“Yeah, they’re around here somewhere,” Isis said and pointed toward the dance floor. “There they are.”
Coop looked in the direction that she was pointing. “I see.”
“Look, I have no idea how much clearer I could be about you not having a chance. So why are you still here? Just for the fascinating one-sided conversation?” Isis asked, keeping her eyes on the other three.
“No, actually. I have something to tell you, but I’d prefer to do it some place a little less,” Coop hesitated for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together, “public.”
“Oh my freaking god, are you actually serious?”
Isis looked over at Coop, having run out of patience. Now he was getting much too creepy for her liking, though oddly, she didn’t feel threatened. Coop opened his mouth to clarify, but was interrupted when a man appeared out of nowhere and bumped into him, spilling his drink all over Coop. Isis jumped a little while Coop took a step back with his hands raised, obviously taken off guard. Isis looked at the guy who spilled his drink on Coop, recognizing him as the man she had seen earlier.
“Oh dude, I am so sorry,” the man in the hat moaned, slurring as he brushed at the alcohol staining Coop’s shirt. “I didn’t see you there. I gotta lay off the Jägermeister, know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Coop grumbled as the man stumbled off. He brushed his hands down the front of his sopping shirt, which glistened in the dim light.
“You two know each other?” Isis asked.
“No,” Coop responded, a little too quickly. Isis raised an eyebrow and turned her attention back to the dance floor. Coop stepped forward, right into Isis’ personal space.
“Okay, you really need to back up. Right now,” Isis warned, tensing up and preparing to kick the mysterious man where it counted. “Seriously, dude, I’m not going to tell you again.”
“I know you’re a shape shifter,” Coop whispered. “You’re in danger, Isis. There are people watching you that not even Jet, Lilly, nor the guardians know about.”
Coop suddenly turned his head, glancing over his right shoulder. “Look over my shoulder. There’s a woman in brown leather on the second floor, light cowboy hat. She’s watching your friends.”
Isis frowned and looked in the direction Coop had a few moments earlier, spotting the woman almost instantly. She was wearing a western outfit, but didn’t stand out.
“So?” she asked, annoyed.
“She’s an assassin by the name of Onyx, a very formidable one,” Coop murmured, glancing to the left and the right. “Watch her right hip; you’ll see what I’m talking about. Be careful, make sure she doesn’t see you.”
Isis sighed and looked back, leaning to the side to see around Coop. The woman turned and Isis saw the gleam of a large firearm for the briefest of moments. Well shit, Isis thought as she leaned back to look up at Coop again.
“In the past, her allegiance has been with the assassins and with Adara in particular. But recent whispers suggest that may have changed. Adara won’t have control of this territory’s assassins much longer,” Coop murmured, glancing behind him. “Go. I’ll make sure she doesn’t follow you.”
Isis looked at Coop once more, wondering whether or not to trust him, before hurrying through the pulsating crowd to inform the other three so they could leave. She definitely didn’t want to be in a club with an armed individual.
*~*~*~*~*
The man watched as the Four left the club, leaning down so that his elbows rested on the hand railing in front of him. Coop must have alerted them to the presence of the assassin with the old west obsession who was out for their blood. Glancing at his watch, the man estimated he had fifteen more minutes until his absence was discovered. He closed his eyes, attempting to soothe his throbbing head. The damn music was making his ears bleed, and soon that would be a literal statement.
“What are you doing here, Dane?”
Dane opened his eyes and turned toward Coop, a smirk crossing his lips. “Hello to you too, L-series. Did I hear right? You’re still going by Coop?”
“I am.”
He snorted, gesturing at the other man’s shirt. “Sorry about the drink, but you were kind of asking for it. Some place less public? That was painful to watch. What were you thinking?”
Coop glanced up at the assassin. “I’m not used to this kind of . . . assignment.”
“That’s because we weren’t modified for it.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
Dane looked around at all the attractive people. “For the night life. I enjoy the occasional opportunity to soak up all the delicious blissful ignorance.”
“Still acting impulsively, I see,” Coop grumbled as he leaned on the steel railing.
“Chill out, Coop. This is a completely informal trip. Carding doesn’t know I’m out. A couple of the good ole security boys are covering for me,” Dane said as he leaned on the railing next to Coop. “That’s what you get for not having a poker-face.”
“Or for playing with a known cheat,” Coop added.
“We do what we have to in order to survive. I cheat. You live a life of servitude. Like a domesticated pet,” Dane replied easily.
“Better than a Corporation puppet,” he shot back. Dane lunged and grabbed Coop’s shirt, jerking the man forward so that they were inches apart. Coop broke his hold and shoved Dane back. The two stood stiffly, waiting for the other to lash out. People around them quickly moved to avoid the two men who looked as if they were about to beat the living hell out of each other.
“Whatever he has planned, it won’t work,” Coop stated with conviction. Dane raised an eyebrow but didn’t relax his position at all.
“Coop, we can’t change things. You’re deluding yourself if you think otherwise. They’ll depose the head assassin in this state and put their shill in her place. If Grenich wants that hybrid, they’ll have that hybrid. And believe me, they want her.”
Coop glanced back up to where Onyx was standing. If she had seen Coop and Dane, she didn’t give them a second glance. Dane followed his gaze.
“That the assassin who’s after her?” he asked, smirking and shaking his head when Coop nodded. “Using shape shifters to hunt other shape shifters. You gotta hand it to Grenich. They really take twisted to a whole new level. And soon they’ll have control over the assassins — have to admire their initiative.”
Coop just grunted in response as he leaned down on the railing. For a moment, the two men stood in silence.
“Dane, you could come back with me. He can protect you,” Coop began, but stopped when Dane shook his head and chuckled bitterly. It was odd. Dane couldn’t even mimic a good smile when he laughed. Neither of them could really.
“Things are different there, Coop. Ever since the break-out when you escaped,” Dane said. “You think you’re free, but you’re not. I’d rather live like a zombie than a fugitive. Zombies meet better ends.”
Dane straightened up, knowing he had stayed long enough. It was time to go back to the hellish prison he belonged to.
“Dane,” he turned back when he heard Coop’s voice. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I always do,” Dane responded as he swaggered down the stairs and disappeared in the sea of pulsating bodies.
CHAPTER NINE
On the outskirts of town there was an old valley that no one dared venture to. To go there meant traversing through a barbed wire fence with large wooden signs declaring in large red letters NO TRESPASSERS. Once past the sharp barbs, there was a twisted forest of dead and dying trees and overgrown grass. The air smelled of burnt wood and decay. If an explorer did not get lost in the labyrinth, they would soon come upon a gradually sloping hill c
overed in brown grass and dried out dirt. In the center of the old valley was a large manor, the cold exterior warning strangers that they were not welcome. It shone like obsidian in the sun, glimmering in the pure rays. It looked neither new nor decrepit.
Once through the double doors, there was a long marble hallway. The inside of the manor was as menacing and cold as the outside, resembling a mausoleum more than a home. Icy light spilled from the many fixtures. It was impossible to walk quietly through the halls and the hollow sound of footsteps often echoed through the large, empty halls. Portraits sat on the gray walls, looming over the manor’s occupants.
Gia stretched across her mother’s large chair, bobbing her leg as she focused on filing her perfect nails. She glanced at the door to her mother’s office. Adara had closed the door after receiving a call, but Gia could still make out her mother’s side of the exchange.
“No, no, we haven’t been able to retrieve it yet,” she said, sounding more confident than she was. Gia knew that the man on the other line made her mother nervous, more nervous than Gia had ever seen her before. The young shape shifter didn’t care. She was happy to while away the hours doing whatever she wished.
“I sent my best operative out last night and word has it the protectors have found the one you spoke of,” Adara reported before going silent again as the person on the other end spoke. Gia glanced up at the sound of a distinctive clicking. Onyx was striding down the vast hallway in her alligator skin boots. A suede cowboy hat sat on top of her long dishwater blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless tan shirt with a bucking bronco design on it and low rise, dark stonewash jeans. She had holsters on her hips, which she frequently rested her hands on. Onyx had never quite left the Old West, and still fancied herself an old-fashioned gunslinger. She kept her look updated just enough so that she would never stand out in a crowd and only wore her guns visibly when around fellow assassins.
“Yee-haw,” Gia commented, knowing it would get under Onyx’s skin. Sure enough, Onyx glared at her and tapped the butt of one of her guns. Gia smirked and went back to filing her nails. She preferred the modern socialite fashion — pinks and flesh tones and plenty of bare skin.
“Ooh, someone’s in a mood. Must not have been a good night,” Gia taunted, balancing the small pink nail file between her two index fingers.
“I cannot wait until this territory is under new management. Less deadweight,” Onyx mused. “Is your mother around?”
“She’s on the phone,” Gia replied, pausing as she looked back to her file. “With our mysterious new client.”
Onyx smiled and Gia studied her, knowing the assassin had more information about the client than she did. It bugged her to no end. Running her thumb over her bottom lip, Onyx shifted her weight a little.
“Poor little Gia. I fear your days are numbered,” she spoke as though thinking out loud. Gia glanced at her, swallowing, which made Onyx’s feral smile grow. The younger shape shifter opened her mouth to reply when a slamming door interrupted her. Adara stormed out of her office, striding across the hall to her chair.
“You, off,” she ordered Gia. Gia rolled her eyes and swung her legs off the chair, standing aside so her mother could take her place. Adara stepped up to the chair, but didn’t sit, turning her eyes to Onyx.
“I take it your new client isn’t pleased with your lack of progress on the job,” Onyx commented, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Choose your words carefully, Onyx,” Adara warned and Onyx merely raised an eyebrow at the response.
“He doesn’t have an endless store of patience, Adara,” Onyx continued. “You worry about starting a war with the protectors, but you should be much more concerned with leaving your client dissatisfied. He has more power and sway than the protectors could ever dream of.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job or what to be concerned about.”
“Well, apparently you do, seeing as how you’re the one who brought this cancer upon us in the first place,” Onyx was quick to point out.
“And here I thought you fearless,” Adara replied. “Cowardice is not advisable in this line of work, Onyx.”
Onyx chuckled, sticking her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “Neither is arrogance. I have enough sense to recognize a danger. Were it up to me, I wouldn’t have gotten involved with the Grenich Corporation in the first place. But since he’s already wormed his way into this territory, I’m sure as hell going to make sure I remain on his good side. I would advise you to do the same.”
Gia scoffed. “He’s a fool if he challenges an assassin leader.”
Onyx pointed at Gia. “That right there, that’s going to get both of you killed.”
“Be silent unless you’re asked to speak,” Adara hissed at Gia, who rolled her eyes again and leaned back against the wall.
“He has informed me that the Key will be at the museum tonight,” Adara explained. “I want the two of you to retrieve it.”
“Is that what he requested?” Onyx asked, furrowing her brow suspiciously.
“That is what I’m requesting,” Adara stated in a tone that suggested the matter wasn’t up for discussion. “Need I remind you that your loyalty is to me, not him?”
Onyx half-smiled and shook her head. “And you want me to drag your daughter along for what? Punishment?”
Gia looked back to her nails, bored. “Don’t blame me for your parents not breeding outside the immediate family.”
“Careful, child. Killing you would be the highlight of an otherwise lackluster week,” Onyx threatened.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Gia replied with a smirk.
“Enough!” Adara’s shout echoed throughout the halls, causing the windows to shudder in their frames. Both women turned their attention back to her and Onyx shifted her weight a little. The sunlight that beamed in through the many windows captured the dancing dust particles as they drifted about in space. Adara glared at them once more before turning on her heel and storming back into her office.
“You two will do this and if you question me again, you’ll need to find a new territory to work in,” she threatened without turning around. She slammed the door behind her. Onyx turned and walked back down the long hallway, disappearing out the front door.
Gia shrugged and sauntered in the opposite direction. Her hollowed steps echoed through the hall until she reached her room and entered it. The manor fell silent once again as she closed her door.
*~*~*~*~*
“What were you thinking?”
Isis opened her mouth to respond to Jet’s demand.
“Don’t answer that.”
Her mouth snapped shut again as she watched him. He was so rigid that he was almost shaking with anger. The morning sun beamed down on them, creating a halo around Jet. He paced behind his desk while Isis sat in the plain black chair across from him, her long legs crossed at the knee. Ever since the trip to Dionysia the previous night, he had been positively livid with the Four. He had already spoken to the other three and now it was Isis’ turn in the hot seat. She ran a hand through her brown hair, waiting for his next words.
“I would really like to know what was running through your head,” Jet continued. “Do you have some kind of death wish?”
“In my defense, it wasn’t my idea. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a fan of crowds . . . or people in general,” Isis replied. “And in Shae’s defense, we have been training for over two months and I think we all needed a change of scenery. Plus, there were four of us.”
“Outnumbering isn’t always the best strategy. Remington has taught you that,” Jet pointed out, the anger never ebbing from his voice. Isis ran her tongue over her teeth, doing her best not to lose her temper.
“Look, you’re the one who uprooted me from my life and dragged me into all this insanity because of some prophecy,” Isis countered. “If anyone in this room should be pissed, it should be me.”
She had decided not to mention Coop to Jet or the other three
. It would just cause them unnecessary worry and probably more interrogation. Jet stared at her for a moment, a myriad of emotions crossing his face.
“If you pull another stunt like that there will be repercussions,” Jet warned, his stern voice telling her that he was not playing around. He sat down and looked at the file on the desk.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “Can I go now?”
Jet waved his hand, gesturing that she could leave. She uncrossed her legs and left the study without another word.
Jet glanced up and watched her leave. She was getting very bold, much like her mother and sister. Jet shook his head, looking back down at the file in front of him. Her stride was so graceful, especially when she sauntered. The more skills she acquired, the more like a shape shifter she became. The grace of a guardian, the tenacity of a shape shifter, and the stubbornness of her mother, Jet thought with a quiet sigh.
At that moment, Lilly Appeared beside Jet in a bright flash of golden light. The air sparkled for a moment after her appearance.
“She is so much like Passion. It’s going to get her into trouble,” Jet observed as he sat back. Lilly sat on the arm rest of the computer chair, wrapping one arm around his shoulders as she traced his jaw line with the back of her free hand. The sunlight danced about their heads, illuminating everything within the medium-sized room.
“I don’t know. She seems to be able to handle herself,” Lilly replied with a small smile.
“I’m sending them to the museum ball tonight to look around,” Jet said, reading the question in his wife’s eyes
“For the flashdrive?” Lilly asked.
Jet nodded in response. “I spoke with Sly earlier. She has it on good authority that the Key will be somewhere in the museum, in something that looks ancient.”
“This is according to her sources?” Lilly asked.
Jet nodded. “She may be a pain to deal with, but as you’ve pointed out, her information is usually accurate. Most of what we know about this thing is because of her.”
Sere from the Green (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 1) Page 17