HELLO! I just watched season 4 trailer and I'm so excited! It will be awesome season, I can feel it!

Sorry for my bad english!

Please review.

"When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice."
—R.L. LaFevers

Her day didn't start like usual. Which, actually wasn't such a big deal since 'normal routine' isn't her thing. There wasn't time to get used to taking the shower every morning, or making the coffee first thing in the morning. She never knows what could next morning bring to her. Jolene doesn't know what good morning sounds like coming from the mouth of a family member. She has no family. But, even though she isn't like normal teenage girls, she still is a girl, and girl has her needs. And Jolene's need was sleep. Last week was rough, but she still managed to do the job on time. It was one of the hardest things she ever had to do, including that time when she had to watch her younger sister being killed by a night robber. What she did was too ugly to think about. She wasn't a saint, but now she's too deep… there is no more forgiveness. No priest, no god, no being what so ever could possibly look her in the eye if they knew. Oh, if they knew…

A silent beep came from under the pillow. As she reached for it, Jolene yawned.

[text; from: Fredrich] Job?

With quick fingers movement, she replied: Done.

Few minutes passed without a reply so Jolene decided to get out of her uncomfortable bed to wash her teeth. The bathroom isn't very big, just like the rest of this motel. She is used to small motel rooms, shitty beds and disgusting bathrooms - it's enough for her.

She stood in front of a dirty mirror, looking at her own reflection. A thought occurred to her: how does she look like to others?

Black, too curly hair is tide up in a messy bun. Those big, black bags under her eyes make her look older, way older.

Avicii's Hey Brother starts playing, making the tired girl jump on her place. A quied laugh escaped her mouth.

She sang as the ringtone played... There's no point to hurry up and answer when she knows it's D. D will always wait for her.

"Yo, D!" Jolene could sense her brother's grin even though she couldn't see his face.

"Jo, how you doin'?" On the other end of a line D. messed with his dog. Zeus howled playfully.

"Great. Awesome. Never better." She's a bad liar, but instead of protesting to tell him the truth, D. continued "Fridrich has a new job for you."

There was a rule of vacation. Not for their physical health, but mental health. What they did is not easy even to best of assassin. And Jolene was one of them.

"Already? I just finished this one. And I'm not even near Mexico." She says.

"This job has been on a wait for long time. He figured out you'd be the best for it."

Jolene sighed tiredly. She can always say no. It's her choice after all. "Who's the target?"

After a long pause, D. finally said "Targets, actually."

"Fine, just tell me who I have to kill."

"McCall pack." D. breathed out.

"A pack?" Jolene laughed.

"Group of teenagers. Becoon Hills. That's about everything I can tell you." She sensed he is keeping the most important clue from her and she didn't like it. If nothing, Jolene wanted to know her targets. See why they deserved to die. "You have eight days."

"Tell me more. This ia not how I work, D." She sighed, but her brother refused to give any other information and declared the end of this conversation. D. is not her real brother, but they refer to each other as a family. There aren't many differences between them: they both have dark hair, same olive skin and green eyes; they use same frases and talk similar; even their body motions reflect one another. D. is her shadow and her friend. The only family she has left.

"Be careful," With those words, the line went dead.

If Jolene didn't miss anything from a normal life that would definitely be school. She's been educated in home school that Fridrich paid for until she was old enough to start a job. After her fourteenth birthday, he left her an option to continue school or drop out. Since she didn't want to be a drop out, she stayed in school and had to work at the same time. That was until last year, when school and job became too hard to handle at the same time. Having blood on your hand and keeping your head clean enough to concentrate on math and chemistry isn't such an easy job.

Engine of her Chevrolet Camaro turned off like decrescendo. That car was her favorite thing in the world. She grew to love the old thing. Before, it was a trash in Fridrichs backyard, until D. decided to repair and improve it. It wasn't meant to be hers, he wanted to sell it to earn some extra money… without having to kill someone. Even though he never really thought she could possibly be interested in anything with an engine, she enjoyed helping him out. They did a good job. It was a messy, complicated and hard work, but full of laugh and interesting facts about cars. They grew even closer together.

Now Jolene stepped inside the school hallway, pushing all her thoughts away. Find the target. Eliminate the target. Targets, she corrected herself. Trying to find her way through the maze of teenage boys and girls, young assassin couldn't help herself but to feel uncomfortable. All those students, chatting and yelling seemed so foreign to her. Most of them looked at her, which she expected, of course. The looks on their faces troubled her, they had a disaproving, judging tone. When did she start to care? This doesn't make any sense, after all, she'll be gone in few days and never ever come back. She's here to do a job, not to make friends. But part of her, a girl who wanted a normal life, protested. She pushed her away with one shake of the head.

„I am so sorry!" A person bumped into her, breathing out an apology. A girl, about Jolene's age, but much taller awkwardly tried to make situation better. Jolene wished to reach out for her pocket knife and stab the stupid girl for spilling the hot coffee all over her brand new white T-Shirt. Nearest students turned they attention to them, and for that Jolene hated the girl even more. Now they noticed her, and she will be remembered as a coffee sponge. Both of them fell down on their knees to pick up scattered books and notebooks. „I didn't see you ... I.. God." Brown haired girl tried to explain herself. She paused oddly after every word. Jolene felt sorry about the girl, she clearly felt guilty. Instict to kill the girl slowly faded as she picked up the last remained book from cold floor. Hot liquid still burned her skin like fire, „I… I can borrow you another shirt, I have one in my locker." After she noticed Jolene's questionable look on her face, girl added „It's cold." which wasn't true at all. Beacon Hills is warm during this time of a year, and sweat poured down Jolene's back. Not asking for any other explanation, she followed her awkwardly. People gave her looks, and she tried her best to ignore them. „My name is Jolene." She introduced herself loudly, so the girl can hear her over the loud conversation's other students had in groups. „Malia. Are you new too?" „Yeah," Jo answered just as they reached Malia's locker.

„What's your first class?" Malia asked, rummaging through her stuff. She pulled out pink polo shirt and handed it to Jolene. It surely wasn't her color, much less the piece of clothes she usually wears… but anything is better than brown stain on her shirt. She muttered thank you, unsure if Malia heard it or not. Being polite is not one of her virtues.

„It's Engli…" Rest of a sentence got stuck in her throat. Jolene looked at him, and the rest of the world feel into silence. Soon enough, the boy was standing next to Malia. He said something to her, which Jolene's brain couldn't recognize because it was so focused on his face features. In simple words she was speechless. He waved with his hands while he spoke, his body motions reflecting the mood he was in. As he re-telled one clearly exciting story to Malia, Jolene observed his eyes. Light brown eyes with rays of honey danced on the light, and they were beautiful.

Did I just?! She snapped out of it, cursing herself under the breath. It dedinitely isn't time or place for this. Jolene straightened herself, and cleared her throat. The boy immediately stopped talking and noticed another girl for the first time. He, too, had no words. Who was she and where did she came from? He had no idea. Malia, noticing that awkward look her friend and new girl shared, decided to break the ice. „Stiles, this is Jolene. She's new in Beacon Hills." Jolene liked it because it suits him. It was a strange nam, and it was a strange boy.