It's here! The first chapter of Rosemarie Returns, which y'all have been waiting patiently (or not so patiently) for. Remember to review/follow/enjoy!

Previously: I could see right now that the road ahead was dangerous, full of twists and turns, betrayal and heartbreak and uncertainty. I took a moment to collect myself, preparing to buckle in for yet another chapter in the convoluted, entangled web that had become my life.

"So, where do we begin?" I asked quietly.

The mole smiled fleetingly as they walked away from the body, disappearing into the night.

Belikov could do the rest. And the best was yet to come.

Dimitri Belikov had a long-since established reputation as one of the smartest, badass agents in the intelligence world, and to many, his skills were considered worth his weight in gold. But, the onlooker mused, come nightfall, the cold, business-only façade he had so perfected came crashing down. They watched him intently, watched his restless, fitful sleep, his handsome face contorted in an expression of pain. They didn't know how long they crouched there in the darkened, almost eerie room they had, in fact, visited a few times before, albeit under a very different set of circumstances. They were almost invisible, a ghost, in fact, just there to watch, to listen, to observe and think. A surge of…impatience, perhaps? Came over them, and their jaw tightened. They wanted their reward. They wanted what they had been promised when they had first agreed to do this job. They wanted him. They were startled when he sat up, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over his head, but then relaxed, realizing he was still asleep, only dreaming. The man groaned, rolling over onto his stomach.

"Roza," he mumbled through the pillow. "Roza, come back," he sighed. The mole's mouth soured. Roza. It had been over a month, and they had been informed only days before her breakout that Belikov believed Hathaway a traitor, that he now hated her, but here was evidence to support the contrary. They would have to work a little harder to convince him. The mole glanced down at the revolver clipped to the belt and smiled. How quickly Belikov's life could end, should they choose to do act in such a way. Fingers curled briefly around the revolver, but only for an instant. Dimitri was not the target; he was, in fact, the prize. Turning quickly on their heel, the mole stalked away down the empty corridor, out of the apartment block, away from Dimitri. Tonight was not the night to get caught. Tonight, they had a job to do.

A half-hour later, the mole was staring down at the lifeless body of the male receptionist who worked in Belikov's building. It was a carefully calculated move: the mole's bosses didn't dare strike somebody close to Belikov, there was too much security. No, it was the innocent, the helpless, the unprotected who always got the short straw. Like me, they thought. Like me, before I wised up and joined the winning team. They signed the name with a flourish, and smiled down at the body.

"Thank you," they told the body. You and the next ones are going to help us become very, very rich, and very, very powerful, they thought to themselves. But patience, they told themselves. They had already been chastised about being to eager, doing things too quickly. It lead to mistakes, Dashkov had said. The mole had protested, but knew he was right. A single false step could jeopardize everything, and that would not do. Especially when Dimitri was almost in their hands. Especially as, as they stood here, the deadliest information in the world-the plans-were secretly being stolen from the Strigori themselves. No, mistakes would not do. After the mole had managed to find out where Hathaway and her friends were, Dashkov had urged patience rather than drastic action. He did not want to kill them, not yet, but rather watch as they stumbled blindly, helplessly into his hands. That was, at least, the explanation he had proffered. The mole knew better-that Dashkov was struggling to find them, that they had been well concealed by the Guardians, although Dashkov said otherwise. It made them slightly uneasy. They were supposed to be working together. Them, Dashkov, Nathan…

But of course, Dashkov was a snake, that fact had been proven time and again. He was only eager to fulfill his own interests, and woe betide anyone who got in his way. That was why they were working hard to make sure they weren't in his way, that thy became an integral part of his plans- because only then would Dashkov reward them. So the lie didn't bother them, so long as the result was achieved. At any rate, the mole was content to wait a little while for Rosemarie's fate to catch up with her-and if it was not death, well, there were certainly fates much worse than death. Suddenly, as they stepped back into the shadows, knowing it would be at least an hour before the body was discovered, they were hit with a dark thought, hands curling around her favorite lipstick. The mole raised their head to the darkened sky, lit only by smog-muffled stars, and stared into the darkness.

"We know where you are," they whispered. "And it's only a matter of time before you die, along with all of your friends. You're dead, Rose Hathaway!" They hissed, with a savage kind of grin. With that, the new and improved Rosemarie disappeared silently into the night.

Two thousand miles away on the verandah of a Caribbean mansion, nestled into the sticky tropical forest, the real Rose Hathaway awoke with a start.

Ooh, straight back into the drama! Tell me what you think guys ;)

OH, ONE LAST THING: I just heard that a guest reviewer nominated my Rose By Day, Thorn By Night for the best VA story of 2012, so a shoutout to them! Thank you so much, it means so much! Next chapter real soon!

Em xx