** Hey all! I am VERY sorry for such a long wait. My muse had left me. I honestly have no idea how many different beginnings I have for this story. Don't ask me what brought my muse back either. If you haven't read my first story; How to Create a Serial Killer in Seven Days, go and read that now. You would understand the first few chapters of this one, but not all of it. Let me give you a little background to my new child. Sem' is not twenty years old. After the last episode in Gotham she was taken to live and grow in New York. That's all I'm giving ya. Let me know what you think and PLEASE review! Love ya!**
CH 1
Welcome Back.
She sighed heavily as she walked down the darkened, empty streets. A cold rain fell from the black sky in a steady drizzle, accompanied by a thick fog that hung over the city like a heavy smoke.
She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, and ducked against the cold wind that seemed to wish to stop her from reaching her destination.
How long since she had been home? Uncle was no doubt worried. At least a week? Maybe two. She had never been too good at keeping track of those kinds of things.
Turning, she stared up a steeps set of steps, and forced the door open at the top. Warm, food scented air slammed into her. Stepping inside the grandeur that was Uncles home, she closed the door behind her.
All lights were on, making the tanned marble floors beneath her wet sneakers shine. Slipping out of them, she padded down a wide hallway with creamy walls, and white moldings. She stepped into the kitchen as the chatter, that had welcomed her from the start, grew loudly.
"Your fault she leaves so much! Victor is always mean to her!" A tall thin woman snarled in a thick Russian accent
"It is not my fault she leaves! It is simple teasing I do!" A massive, muscled man called tossing his arms.
She smirked. Ah. Perhaps she HAD been gone for too long. Uncle had called in his children. Luca, was uncles youngest. A lovely young woman whom loved hair. She own a quite profitable salon near Main Street.
And then there was Victor. He was uncles oldest. He was a good man, but his large head was filled with rocks. He didn't know his way around his own house let alone his way around New York.
"I do not leave because of any particular reason. I just leave to leave." She called softly, pulling back her hood, and moving to the simmering pot on the stove. Oh Uncle had made his beef stew. Her mouth watered.
Silence fell for a few seconds, before there was a clatter of chairs, and she was engulfed in the boney arms of Luca. The woman's dark brown hair nearly spilling into the pot before her. "Where have you gone?!" Luca cried as fat tears poured down the woman's cheeks.
She smirked. "Here and there. Your hair in going into the pot Luca." She murmured softly.
Instantly, the woman was gasping and halfway across the room. Delicate fingers running through the smooth locks.
A bowl found its way to the black marble countertop beside the stove. "Hello cousin." Victor rumbled as he two kept his distance from her.
Victor was good, and kind, but he was skittish. Didn't like to get to close to her. She knew that her marks put him off and she did not blame him he was still as kind as ever. Just kept her at a distance.
She turned slightly to smile at him, keeping her face mostly turned away. "Good seeing you Victor. Thank you." She murmured softly, collecting a spoon and ladling a bit of stew into her bowl.
A solid hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Why must you do this?" The low soft voice of Uncle murmured as she was forcibly turned and pulled into Uncles chest.
She did not return the hug, but allowed Uncle to hold her. "I just have too... I feel restless." She stated softly into the lapels of uncles coal gray suit.
Vitali Riskof sighed as his eyes drifted to his sons. Victor was a good strong man, but he was an idiot. Often making a mess of everything. Victor was much taller than Vitali. The younger man tossed his hands and shook his head.
She pulled away from Uncle and collected her full bowl from the table. "Now, if you will excuse me." She murmured turning away from both men and moving to the table that Luca sat at, still breathing just a bit heavily.
Silence fell as she began to eat. She could feel the tension that radiated throughout the room. Just decided to ignore it.
Since she was twelve, the earliest point that she could remember of her childhood. Her family had kept their distance from her. Loving her yes, but they were always ready to step back. It was a bit frustrating, so she too had distanced herself from them. Being polite, kind. But never allowing them in.
It was an unspoken agreement. She would do whatever she could for them if they simply leave her and her personal matters alone. That included her little... disappearances. She had things of her own that needed handling.
"Papa says he wants to speak with you." The soft voice of Luca called, drawing her eye from her meal.
Slowly, she arched a brow at her cousin. "Oh? What of?" She questioned off handedly.
Lucas smiling brown eyes sparkled. "About the business." She whispered leaning all the closer to her.
She stared at Luca for a few moments before going back to her food. "Really? Perhaps he needs a job done." She murmured scraping the last bit of soup from her bowl.
Luca huffed softly. "He shouldn't be making you do this. You're too little."
She smiled vaguely at Luca and reached out to pat at her shoulder. "Do not worry Luca. I enjoy my job." She stated.
Pulling her hand from Luca, she placed her dishes in the sink, and slowly padded her way through the house. Opulence surrounded her in its testimony to wealth. Large old style paintings of her deceased Aunt and the rest of the family hung from nearly all major walls. She wanted no part of those paintings, and allowed only a few photos of herself to decorate the family home.
Most of these photos took up a single wall just before her Uncles office. All of them of her when she was nothing more than a child. She paused before the wall momentarily. Photos of her as a small, sickly child smiled awkwardly out at her.
A small, gaunt face surrounded by a thick main of unruly inky black curls. Large green eyes that she still possessed to this day, and then there were her marks. Her Bane and her Love. There she stood hardly any shorter than she was now posing on a park bench and clutching all different types of stuffed animals. Tearing her eyes away from the framed photos, she entered Uncles carpeted office.
Uncle sat before her, large chubby hands folded over his mouth. His eyes settled on her but he said nothing. Simply stared at her. Eyes roaming over her freshly scabbed mark.
She simply eyes him back, shoving her hands into her jean pockets and hunching her shoulders slightly. Uncle would talk in his own time. A lesson she had learned years ago. There was no point in rushing the man. He was much too stubborn.
"You grow restless." His deep voice rumbled, echoing about the fairly large room. His face was passively blank.
She shrugged. "Yeah. I mean... it's not like I do TOO much while I'm gone. Couple bars. Couple hotels." She murmured, leaning her back against the wall behind her.
Slowly, Uncle nodded. "You need something to do and... and I do believe I have it." He stated, settling his hands on the glass of his desk.
She arched a brow as a pinched came over Uncles face. "Oh?" She questioned.
Uncle nodded. "Yes. I need you to go to aid a failing side of my business." His voice grew somewhat muffled. As if he wanted nothing to do with this conversation.
She leaned forward, interest caught. Uncle was un-comfortable. Uncle was never uncomfortable. His line of work did not allow it. "And what is this failing side?"
Uncles' lips thinned. "Gun trade." He murmured.
Her stomach tightened. "Where?" She took a few steps toward him. Her massive green eyes flashing.
Vitali had to look away from his Niece and clear his throat. Her eyes... when he had first laid eyes on her tiny, broken form, he had fallen in love. She had been so small and thin, bleeding from a gunshot wound. Hardly larger that the oxygen tank that had been on the gurney beside her.
And now, here she stood. She was only about four and a half feet tall. Not receiving enough nourishment as a child could be thanked for her size. She still wore her hair long. It bobbed and looped down her back in wonderful little ringlets. So black it was nearly blue.
She wore a well love gray hoodie. It was quite thin, yet she would wear nothing other. A simple pair of jeans. Oh but her eyes. So large and so very green they put any others to shame. They were always so cool and collected. She was only twenty and yet had an obvious age to her. Her eyes showed wisdom that could only be garnered from experience.
His eyes slowly drifted back to her face. To her scars. She would be so lovely without them. So perfect to look at. She had redone the one across her face while she had been away. Raised and sporting thick scabs, the word Wrath arched across the width of her face ruining any and all beauty she held and leaving behind a morbid shell.
Vaguely, he realized that she was still waiting for him to answer her. But how could he? What type of monster would he be? Sending his own kin back to that shit hole? There was a reason he had left. Was now. Hanging back in the higher crime syndicate of New York.
But as he looked over her once more, he knew that there was no choice. She was meant to live the type of life only he could offer. A life of violence and crime. Murder and death. She had been born into that world, and no matter how he tried he could not keep her away from it.
"Gotham. I need you to go to Gotham." His voice was a harsh whisper.
He frowned at the sheer delight that lit up the tiny woman's face. Vitali knew that his Niece was no innocent. She surly did something on her little outings and the last few times... he knew that she had killed.
He could see it in her childish face. A sage sort of look that only one who has taker another's life could get. He had hoped. Prayed even that she would not turn into what his little Brother had. But blood runs deep.
She smiled. "So you are letting me into the family business? " she questioned, full lips turning into a smile.
Uncle, for years had denied her wants to join him in his line of work. Her heart accelerated slightly. Uncle would no longer meet here eye. She had won.
Vitali willed his thumping heart to slow as he watched his Niece stroll away from him. In her wake a single large bag rolled behind her. She was so small compared to the rest of the people in this god forsaken airport. Let alone the people of Gotham.
"Don't worry Papa. She's gonna be fine." Luca murmured softly as she liked her arm with Vitalis.
He knew that. He had made sure of it. Some of his best men were to be under her charge. Make the process of claiming a name for herself easier. It was vital that she manage to get herself out there. And so, Uncle had sent Gregor to be there for her every step of the way.
"I know. I just... I should not be sending her back to that place." Vitali murmured as he turned and allowed his daughter to lead him away.
She smiled calmly at the extremely bored looking dark skinned man that sat at the small podium before her, handing him her ticket and I.D. His glazed over gaze instantly cleared as he took a look at her face. He winced.
"What uh..." he phumbled with her papers for a moment as he quickly inspected them. "What's your name?" He demanded, clearing his throat as he averted his eyes.
She gave him a knowing smile. "Sem' Riskof." Her voice was softly, nearly drowned out in the overpowering echo of other travelers.
He nodded and handed her back her things. As if he couldn't get rid of Her faster, he allowed her through.
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Gregor grit his teeth as he checked his watch for the fourth time. Where the hell was this chick? She was supposed to arrive half an hour ago. Her flight had not been delayed. He had checked.
Another question. Why had his boss put him on Babysitting duty? Surely he had proved his worth to his boss time and again, so why was he being forced to placate the whims of some twenty year old woman?
Sure, she was the Bosses Niece. And from what he had been able to gather, Bosses favored child.
That was it. He didn't even know what the kid looked like. So here he stood in the middle of Gotham international airport. Holding a sign that read Riskof.
He was getting cool looks from all that passed him. If she didn't show in the next five seconds he was leaving. Boss be damned. He had better things to do than wait for a damn child.
A commotion before him drew his eye. Before him, a young girl walked briskly, tugging her thin grey hoodie back up about her shoulders. Her face was down turned. Behind her a large, heavy security guard trailed. Calling for her to stop.
She turned and barked something at him in thick, perfect Russian. Gregors jaw dropped. She had called the man quite a dirty name. Telling him to back off.
Gregor went to the woman's rescue. Perhaps she could not speak English. He steeped between the man and the woman whom had quickened her pace to a slight jog. "What is happening?" He questioned as best he could. Even his English was choppy at best.
The blond haired man seemed to swell at Gregors interruption. "Please step back Sir." He spit, face going a molted purple.
He turned to the woman in time to see her pull her hood over her inky brown locks. He was stunned for a moment at her size. Tiny. Hardly reaching the bottom of his rib cage. Her small hands suddenly snapped down to her sides and fisted. Slim shoulders hunching near her shoulders. Her face remained down turned.
He took a step towards her. "What is going on?" He demanded, speaking fluent Russian.
She remained quiet. "He is demanding that I remove my clothing." She murmured softly.
She had to have just left the country. Her speak was that of one that was born and raised in Moscow.
"She was selected for a random strip search. If she does not comply, I WILL call the authorities. " she man puffed as she took a step closer to her.
Gregor frowned. "She does not speak English sir. You have frightened her." He muttered stepping fully between the two.
She eyed the back of the massive man that had offered her help. This must have been Gregor. Uncle had said that he would be waiting for her at the gate. That he was "hard to miss". And he certainly was hard to miss.
The man was impossibly tall and weighed down with thick, corded muscle. He wore a thick winter jacket, and tough work jeans. His head was bald. She could see a multitude of tattoos peeping from his neck and sleeve lines. He spoke perfect Russian.
She let his "frightened comment slide. She was far from frightened. Quite irritated actually. Having gotten of the hour and a half flight, only to be badgered by this heavy man saying that she seemed "suspicious".
What had happened suddenly seemed to dawn on the security guard. His beady black eyes flashing to the not too small group of people that had gathered from the scene that he had created. His already red face grew darker as he quickly belted out a found of apologies. He turned and nearly ran back to his station beyond the gate.
She was left to stand behind the man. Shoving her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. "You must be Gregor." She called softly.
Gregor tensed at the softly spoken English words, and slowly turned to face the woman. No. Not woman. GIRL. She had tilted her face up to peer at him from beneath her hood.
Every muscle in his gut clenched. Scars. No scabs lined her cherub face. Wrath. Massive, un-naturally green eyes glittered at him, filled with mischief. Her lips pulled into a lazy half smile. "Sem'" he muttered as he quickly began to usher her towards the bag collection.
She gave a light laugh. " I thank you for your aid. Wouldn't believe how often that happens."
He grit his teeth. He had thought that Boss was sending him a WOMAN. Not some little girl who had a grotesquely fucked up face. He willed the image of her face away from the forefront of his mind. What the fuck was it with this city and scarred faces?
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The winter in Gotham was like the winter of home. Thick gray clouds loomed above her as she trailed after Gregor. They had been forced to park the man's older Jetta three streets over.
Gregor was obviously quite irritated. She did not let this bother her. Let the man be irritated. She had business to take care of, and he could help her, or she could tell him to hit the road. But for now, she would need to get out into the city and meet a few people.
This was not the first time that she had been asked to make connections for Uncle. The man had used her to gain not just a few clients, as well as work force.
Most of Uncles rich clients looked at her with pity. Willing to do nearly anything she asked. But Uncles work force looked at her as a friend. All the low lives of New York came to her for aid. Whether it be for money, or... other difficulties. And all she had to do was show them a little compassion.
Of course her scars put off most in the beginning, but nearly all were a bleeding heart for large teary eyes. Making herself seem weak to the strongly willed, and strong to the weakly willed.
She followed Gregor into a large multi storied building and directly to a chrome covered elevator. "This is Wetterling Plaza. Your apartment is on floor twenty." He rumbled at her. Keeping his eyes on anything but her.
"I see." She murmured as she set her bag beside her feet. She didn't have much to pack. A few pairs of jeans. A pair of heavy boots. A few plain shirts, and bras and panties. Not much at all.
She had left her weapons behind. Uncle assured her that there would be a gun and a few knives waiting for her when she made it to the apartment.
Gregor wanted away from this girl as soon as possible. There was something off about her. Not just the fucked up face. She was quiet. Nearly silent. Saying only the bare minimum of what was needed. Her massive eyes moved constantly. Flicking from place to place. They held a cold, knowing look that Gregor had seen on most of the men that he ran for Boss. Those men were cold blooded. Killers to a t.
The doors of the elevator slid open into a wide hall either side of it lined with doors. Gregor lead her to the third door on the left and opened the door.
It was small. One bedroom one bath. A laundry room that took up the left wall of the single hallway. A small kitchen and a living room. Simple gray carpeted floors and a cement balcony with large sliding glass doors.
She nodded and pulled a few folded bills from her pocket. "Go find some furniture. Keep it simple. Bed couch. Pots silverware. I won't be here when you get back." She stated as she moved into the bathroom and started the shower.
Gregor resisted the urge to shove his fist though a wall and instead pulled his phone from his pocket.
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Vitali sighed heavily as he pulled his phone away from his ear for the third time. What had happed to him? Had his image become so small that even his own men had enough balls to call and yell at him? He grit his teeth.
"I am not a baby sitter! I've dedicated my life to you and you have me watching over some spoiled CHILD?!" The low voice of Gregor hissed.
Vitali arched a brow. "You are mistaken you Pig. Sem' is not spoiled. She asked you to do a simple task and already you question her word?" His voice was soft. Deceptively calm. He didn't want to have Gregor killed but if he ended up being a liability to Sem' he would do so without a second thought.
Gregors teeth clicked as he snapped his haw closed. He had heard that tone of voice before. But it had NEVER been directed towards himself. Of. Fuck. "No. I do not question. I was... just a bit un prepared for her... image..." he trailed off.
Silence filled the line for a moment. "Good. SHE is your Boss now. Find her good reliable men. I need the gun trade up and prosperous. Sem' has the capability. Just give her the means." And with that the line went dead.
Snarling to himself from under his breath, Gregor left the apartment.
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She pushed the door to her apartment open. Tonight had been a long night with nearly nothing to claim but a brain addled by booz. She shook her head and willed the heavy have of hard liquor to leave her be.
The lights were on and the door to the bathroom was closed. Good. Gregor was still here. She hadn't been too sure if he were going to remain here with her. It would be good to have him around.
On a higher note. She had managed to find what could only be known as a snitch. She was lucky that older men in this city favored something as simple as good company and liquor.
He had seemed delighted with her, and had even managed to comment on her eyes instead of her scars. How... odd.
She made it to the couch. It was a soft brown material. The cushions soft and plush. Collapsing onto it, she drew deep even breaths. She just needed to work off this stupor then call Uncle and set up a drop off.
The door to the bathroom opened and she turned her face from the cushion in time to see Gregor enter the living room. His body tensed for a moment as he looked down on her.
He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of look fitting pajama pants. His bare chest was littered with tattoos. Full sleeves. His nose curled. "You reek of booz."
She scoffed. "That's what I get for making connections. A hangover and the constant stench of a bar." She murmured sitting up, and cradling her face.
Gregor arched a brow. "Connections?"
She nodded. "A man by the name of Jonas Smith. From all that I was able to gather a well-known snitch. Very willing to spend time with one new to Gotham."
Gregor sat farthest from her on the couch. "Yes... I know him..." he was surprised. Jonas Smith was a man that trusted no one. Rarely ever giving out information to those that he deemed un worthy.
She pulled her face from her hands with a wince. She shouldn't have done that. Glancing to the couch cushion that separated her from Gregor, she scowled. Sow long had she been bleeding?
"Dang it." She stood and slowly made her way to the bathroom, sleeve pressed to her opened scabs.
Turning on the tap, she bent and splashed the tepid water on her face. Collecting the towel that she had used earlier, she pressed it to her face firmly.
"Where did you get that?" Gregor demanded from the doorway. He stood in the hall, not quite sure as to what to do.
She shrugged and vaguely shook her head. "I don't know."
Ever since she could remember, Uncle had dodged questions of her scars with true skill. She had to commend him for that.
Gregore simply stared at her. What the fuck was up with this woman? She was a mystery. Completely willing to thrust herself into the underbelly of Gotham. He just wondered if she knew what she was getting into.
Gotham was not a city that people like her could just come into. There were... dangers in this city that not even the Mob could protect her from. This city had a king, and Gregor himself know how to stear clear of his ire. But what did this little girl know?
It was in that moment, as he watched her eyes water slightly from the pain of her bleeding wounds that he realized. He realized that she needed this. Needed this job. He had been in her position not ten years ago. Young, striving for some sort of purpose in this thing called life.
She needed this job, and she needed him. Without both, she would end up dead. Young, and dead.
It was at that moment that he began to question his first assumptions on Sem'. He had thought that she was some spoiled child who used her fucked up face to get pity. He couldn't STAND people like that. But what she had done tonight. So eager and quick to attempt her duties.
"Dont stare at me." Her soft voice commanded as she turned her back to him.
Her voice drew him from his thoughts. Slowly he entered the bathroom. "Here. Turn around." And with that, he helped her clean herself up.
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The wind whipped about her, making her hair writhe about. She tucked her hands deeper into her pockets, and thanked who ever would listen that she had bought a scarf. It was currently wrapped about the lower half of her face, protecting her scars from the piercing wind.
"I told you, you could wait in the car." The low voice of Gregor called as he strolled up to her side.
She snorted at him. "I am fine. How long until everything is unloaded?" She demanded looking up at the massive man.
It had been a week since she had come to Gotham, and she was quite sure that if she did not have Gregor, nothing would have gotten done.
Uncle, the wonderful man, had sent her not a bit of men to aid her with anything that needed to be done. Most were idiotic, and so long as they got a pay check they could care less about who they were taking orders from, or what it was that they were doing.
Others however, men who thought that they were too good for just ANY job, had question nearly everything she said. Testing her and her limits. Gregor had instantly put a cap on it.
Gregor let his eyes rove over the working men in the loading dock before them. "Another hour or so." He murmured.
She nodded as her eyes fell of three lounging men. Hale, Parker, and Zak. She did not bother learning their last names. Her jaw clenched. Those three had been a thorn in her side since they had arrived. Three days they had done nothing but sat on their butts.
"Excuse me" she murmured to Gregor as she began toward the now laughing group.
She had, had enough of playing nice. She had attempted to be somewhat civil and now she was being made a fool of. No more.
She stopped besides a sitting Hale. He looked at her still chortling to himself. He was a short, bulkier man with shining blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was bundled inside of a thick woolen coat.
He gave her a cocky smile. "Well Heya Boss!" He called loudly, reaching up and clapping her on the shoulder firmly.
Her eyes narrowed as she held her ground. "You should be working. No Hale?" She questioned, voice soft.
The three men shared a look. "Yeah. We was just. Ya know. Takin a break." Parker called from across the small group that the men had formed. Parker was tall, but lacked anything to make him threatening. His brown hair was thin and he was getting on in years.
"Yeah. That ain't a problem is uh BOSS?" Zak demanded from her right as he stood to loom over her.
She moved quickly and fluidly. Pulling the small glock that Uncle had given her, from her pant line, she pressed the barrel to Zaks temple. He was a fat man and possessed dirty hazel eyes.
Instantly everything went still. "Yes actually. It IS a problem. Do you know how I FIX problems Zak?" She demanded softly, pressing the barrel harder into his temple.
The taller man tensed as he glanced to his friends. Both of them sat, froze with shock. She... where had she?...
With a small smile that touched her eyes she pulled the trigger. A few warmed drops of blood spattering against her forehead as the man crumpled at her feet.
Idly, as if she had not just shot one of her own men, she bent and cleaned the bloodied barrel on Zaks thick winter coat.
She lifted her eyes to the two gaping men and looked upon them as if they were nothing more than dust. "Have I made myself clear?" She demanded standing, cocking her head to one side.
She knew how she looked and she did not care. Let her men fear her. Less shit that she would be forced to put up with.
She turned away from the two silent men and started back to Gregor. "Take care of his body." She called over her shoulder.
Gregor smirked as a very stiff shouldered woman returned to his side. "I honestly didn't think you had it in you." He stated motioning for the men to get back to work.
She shrugged as she placed her back firmly on the wall of the ware house behind her. HER ware house. Soon, she would be running a livened business out of this place. And two other store houses from around the city. Never could be too careful. Just the thought of it made her want to smile. "I am not to be made a fool of" she murmured as she watched Hale and Parker haul their dead comrade to one of the multiple vans that she had purchased for cheap.
He nodded pursing his lips. "You just changed this game. I hope you know." He stated.
She hummed but didn't offer a reply. She knew exactly what she was doing. It wasn't the first time that she had killed someone for insubordination. She was not willing to fall like her Uncle had. He was older, and willing to sit back.
She was not so willing. Her men and all that knew her would pay her respect. Of course she would not simply demand it. She was not so cocky. But she would not let this city chew her up. New York had tried. Gotham would not succeed.
Forty minutes later the three large trucks that uncle had sent from New York were unloaded and she had a partially full ware house. Her men loitered about for a few minutes, all speaking of the weather. The sky was a dark foreboding gray threatening a storm.
"We will meet here seven o'clock tomorrow. I hope you know how to dismantle guns." She called as she and Gregor moved to Gregors car. It was an old Jetta but a reliable car.
She got in on the passenger side and willed her cold hands to warm. She unwound her scarf. It was freezing. Wind nearly roaring. A storm was coming.
"You have blood on your face." Gregor murmured as he started the car.
She stared out the window as Gregor pulled off. "I see. Take the long way around." She drummed her fingers against her thigh.
Gregor did so without question. She was young. Brash, but not stupid. She knew exactly what she had done when she had shot that man. Made enemies.
"When we get home, you will need to go find another apartment. I don't care where. We cannot afford to only have one safe place." She murmured as she watched the rearview mirror intently.
Gregor nodded. "We are in the narrows now. One closer to the warehouse yeah?" Gregor questioned.
She nodded. "Yes."
Gregor allowed silence to fill the car. He knew that she was nervous. Had every reason to be. She had done what was needed. Showed the men that she was not to be fucked with.
He had hoped that she would do SOMETHING. He could not be around at all times, and boys will be boys. They would not take orders from some spineless coward. Let alone a woman.
He was not stupid enough to underestimate a woman. He had been around for the Poison Ivy epidemic. Lot of good men lost to that woman's vines. Women were just as bad as men. A bit smarter too.
Pulling into an open parking space in the underground parking lot of the apartment building. They left the car in silence. And entered the apartment quietly.
Her phone rang. "Yes Uncle?"
"I hear you killed a man today." Uncle's low voice called softly through the line.
Her eyes narrowed. There was a bug. "Yes." There was no point in attempting to lie. "He and his little friends undermined me at every turn." She murmured entering the bathroom and looking to herself in the mirror. Four large, dried drops of blood splattered across her forehead in a sporadic pattern.
"Sem'" Uncles voice had gone weak.
A chill ran up her spine. "What do you expect of me Uncle? I cannot do this without getting blood on my hands. You KNOW this." She whispered.
Vitali ran his hand over his face. He knew that she was right. KNEW it! But damn it! Sem' was his child! Fuck his brother in his hellish afterlife! Sem' was HIS little girl. He could remember her when she would rarely venture from his lap.
But Sem' was no longer a child. And fuck was she doing her job. It was EXPECTED of her to make her men listen. He himself had done this when he had been climbing the latter.
"You're right." He rasped.
Sem' dabbed at her face with a bit of toilet paper. "Uncle. I need you to trust me. Get rid of your bugs and allow me to do this. I love you." She murmured softly.
The conversation lasted for several more minuet's, consisting of Uncle speaking of nothing and everything.
She left the bathroom to find an empty apartment. Good. Gregor had gone to find an apartment. Checking the time she dialed a new number.
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Jonas grinned as a small woman sat at the stool beside him. "Sem' my lovely girl! You have no idea how happy I am to see you!" He called motioning for the bartender.
Sem' gave a large smile that nearly made her wince. "It is good seeing you too Jonas!" She called on a laugh.
The bar was nearly filled to its maximum. Men and women laughing and screaming to each other over the throbbing base of the song that resounded through the air.
The bar tender didn't even bat an eye at the apparent child at the bar. There were all sorts of people in Gotham. It was stupid to I.D any one anymore. At the woman's vague gesture, he brought her the same drink as Jonas.
She took a hefty gulp of the cold beer set before her. "So how are you my friend?"
Jonas leaned closer to her. "I'm pretty good. So I have a few friends who wanna meet ya. Says that they could use what you have to offer."
She grinned. "I would be glad to help in any way I can"
Things were going properly. Soon, she would be making a few deals and her name would grow. Now the only trouble was stepping on people's toes.
There was a lot of money to be made in this line of work and there were no doubts in her mind that SOMEONE out there who was living it pretty well because of it. She was about to cut into their business quite largely.
Jonas laughed and threw his arm about her. "Shots to celebrate! No?"
And with that, she spent the rest of the night getting to thoroughly know the bottom of a bottle.
Gregor was waiting for her when she entered the apartment on a stumble. "Do you never sleep?" He demanded as he helped her into her bedroom.
"No time. I made us deals." She grunted quickly removing her jacket. "Hold my head." She rasped as she jolted into the bathroom.
Gregor hardly had time to wrangle her loose hair back before she began to wretch. Back arching with every heave.
"You really did it this time." He growled as he sat behind her, strattling her and her legs about the toilet.
She panted heavily. "No. It's too hot." She choked as she weakly attempted to push him away. Her body felt numb and overheated. Perhaps just a shot too many.
Gritting his teeth Gregor hauled her shirt from over her head. "Just get it out" he snarled.
She went stiff for a moment before her stomach rolled once more. The cool air causing goose bumps to rise over her skin. Fuck it. Let Gregor see. She leaned forward and puked.
Slowly, as if just realizing what he had done, Gregors eyes fell to the pale skin of her back. He arched a brow. It was faded. Very much so, but the word Sloth arched across her back in raised letters. The right side of her body was deformed. Nearly concave. A bullet had passed through. The flesh mangled and scarred. Fuck. The only thing keeping her covered a small black strap about her small breasts.
Sitting back, she ran her hand over her mouth. "Jesus." She panted.
Gregor stared at her arms. They too littler with raised, faded scars. Pride. What the fuck had happened? She leaned back against his chest, panting heavily.
He released her hair and simply sat there. Taking in the information that he had just learned. So she had been shot and horribly mutilated.
Suddenly he felt a new found respect in her. She was not as he had first thought, and he LIKED that. He had slowly been gaining more and more respect and value for her and her words. Intelligent and willing to do anything for the business.
"Thank you." She muttered ducking her head.
He said nothing as he stood and without warning, he picked her up. Legs in right arm back in left. "You are going to sleep. I will wake you before we must go meet up with the men."
She didn't even argue as Gregor settled her on her mattress and pulled the ratty red blanket up about her shoulders. Just rolled and went closed her eyes.
Her head spun and quickly, she opened her eyes. Raising her and she wiggled her fingers. "Hold my hand. I have bed spins." She rasped softly. She needed something solid to focus her mind on.
Slowly sitting beside her, he curled his fingers with hers. Her tiny hand was clammy but the sheer size of it amazed him. No larger than a child's, his hand nearly swallowed hers whole. His roughened fingers reaching her delicate wrist.
She was so very BREAKABLE and that fact only solidified Gregors want to protect her. It was in that moment that all loyalty he had for her Uncle, switch to her. She needed him. This tiny woman needed protection. And he would gladly give it.