Hello, hello! So here's my next project, in which I hope doesn't utterly fail updating wise as my last one did... But alas! So yes I hate OOC, and I totally cannot stomach reading stories that are totally OOC, but this one is going to be in the medium/small area of that spectrum, mainly because it's required for the plot. Um... that's about it I think, so yeah. Hop to it.
Disclaimer: Cassie Clare owns the characters, but not my soul (yet).
"FRAY! GET YOUR ASS IN MY OFFICE NOW!"
"Morning sunshine…" I grumbled and finally dragged myself out of bed. I'd been putting off getting up for around a half an hour, well aware that Valentine was to give me my next victim today.
I showered and dragged my feet through the halls of the residential are of the Institute and made my way towards the area filled with offices and cubicles of agents doing research.
I tried to enter Valentine's office unnoticed, but for once there wasn't an entourage surrounding him, or 80 bajillion secretaries buzzing around asking in their awful sweet voices "What can I get for you Sir?" Insert gagging at their batted eyelashes here. Seriously, Valentine may be handsome but he was still my father, and that was nasty. Especially since he was married to my much less hostile mother. He adored her, but hated me, especially since I changed my last name back to my mother's maiden one. Half out of spite, half out of the fact that I really hated Valentine.
"Thank you for finally gracing my door with your presence," he said in that cultured accent of his. "Please Clarissa, take a seat."
"I can stand," I said crossing my arms over my chest. "I do have two functioning leg appendages thank you very much."
"Suit yourself," he said uncaringly, but I could see a flash of annoyance in his eyes. Bingo. "I need you to take out another rouge. Little shits are turning up everywhere and this one has been especially troublesome. Took out the two operatives I sent before. Just take him out, he's not worth interrogating."
"Sounds fun. But aren't you kind of concerned that he exterminated two operatives already? Maybe you could give this to someone else. All I've been doing this past year is take out rouges! I want to do something fun, like taking out the President of France, or the Queen of England!"
Valentine stared at me, clearly not as amused by my humor as I was. "You're a big girl. You can handle it."
"Love you too Daddy dearest," I grumbled and left to pack my bags.
-#*#-
There is nothing that can prepare you for the life of an assassin. You can be trained to use weapons, how to move without ever making a noise, but there is nothing like the thrill of being out in field.
I've been a part of VALENTINE for as long as I could remember. Kind of hard not to be, when your own father is at the head of it all.
"We're here miss," the pilot said.
I'd been in this plane for quite a long time and was anxious to find out what my surroundings were. Taking a peek outside the window I let out a long groan.
You got to be kidding me.
Outside were forests, only breaking off for a few miles of villages of datchas. This meant one thing: Siberia. I was hoping for a warmer climate, like the Bahamas, but I always get stuck with exterminating the psychos. The psychos that like cold weather.
A few hours later after I dropped off a few things at the safe house, I made my way outside. His profile read that he preferred more…. foul company. Taking this in mind, I headed out and started checking out local bars. After countless trial-and-error, I got tired and decided to head for bed.
His file had read 'Eyes: Gold' so I was surprised I couldn't pick him out in the mesh of light blond hair and blue grey eyes. The city was big; I could look in the other district tomorrow.
Or not.
While hurriedly crossing a small street, I caught eyes with a tall boy. Not so much a boy as a young man, with dark gold curly hair and molten gold eyes that met mine with an even stare.
This isn't what gave him away. What gave him away was the slow flirtatious wink he gave me.
Definitely my hit.
He was just making his way into a pub I had checked an hour earlier. I changed my path gradually so not to gain attention. I wanted to find this bastard now and take him out quick and easy so I could get out of this frozen wasteland. Ducking my head I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, making sure it wasn't vodka because here that translated into jet fuel. No, it translates into jet fuel on meth.
I looked around myself casually and saw he was seated at a table playing a card game. He looked pretty chummy with them and said something in a flawless Russian, accent and all, that made the rest of the group piddle themselves with laughter.
He saw me watching him and elbowed the young man next to him. He had mousy brown hair, with a tall lanky body and glasses. He said something too low for my to hear his voice over the thrum of drunken splendor but the brown haired boy's
eyes met mine showing a flash of an emotion I couldn't place. Maybe recognition.
"Hello little girl," The blonde haired 'Jace' as his file claimed him to be named, waved me over and spoke in a heavily Russian accented English. Little shit didn't fool me for a second.
Wanting this to be over as soon as possible, I walked up and leaned over the table.
"Hey pretty boy," I cooed. "What cha' playing?"
"Durak," he smiled pleased at the attention. "Care to join?"
I smiled like a cat and took a seat, thankful that he seemed to be falling for it.
"Gladly."
After everyone else had lost their cards and me and Wayland were the only ones left, he let out a victorious smile and laid his single remaining card in front of me. I had the kozer King so I wasn't particularly worried.
Until he laid the kozer Ace in front of me. Little bastard held out just so he could do this I presume.
"Durachok," he said smirking profusely now. "Better luck next time yes?"
"Ohmigosh," I said feigning surprise and squelching my anger. "I'm so stupid!"
"Don't worry dear," he said sliding an arm around my waist, earning the catcalls and whistles from the other men at our table. "It's all about strategy."
After a few more games in which I got schooled over and over, I finally threw my hands up and let out a flustered, defeated sigh.
"I'm no good at this!" I stood up earning groans of my leaving from the other pig-headed men. The only one who never made any sexist remark was the brown haired boy Wayland had been talking to. He only kept his curious dark brown eyes on me the entire time. A bit unnerving if I'm honest.
I tried to exit waving my good byes when a hand caught my wrist. It was Wayland looking like he was up to no good. Great. That's the last thing I need. Some psychotic runaway hitting on me. I've never wanted to be home as much as I did right now.
"How about we come to my home?" he asked again in that thick accent.
Think, think, how would another girl act in this position? Shell-shocked probably, by the looks of Wayland, he was good-looking and well aware of that fact.
"Oh…" I stuttered. "Y-yes. That'd be nice. I-It's my first time in Russia."
"Perfect," he said grinning like the maniac he was. I was only greatful that I had left with my hidden blade. I'd get Wayland in bed and while he was… distracted I could reveal that my antique looking bracelet held a surprise. Dead and done, I'd get home in time for dinner.
He called down a cab and spoke rapidly in Russian directing the pudgy man where to go. When we stopped, it was in front of one of the few higher end apartment buildings in the neighborhood. In front was a park, with a playground for kids, all of it looking new and a fountain that stood in the middle of a dirt circle surrounded by benches.
We made our way inside and he led me up to a suite near to the top, unlocking both an outer door and a security door and closing them both and pressing a key to stop the beeping of the security system, that if not put out in time would send up a group of armed guards, which was the last thing I needed.
A pat down when I was covered head to toe in deadly weapons? No. Thank you.
"Please, make yourself at home," Wayland said taking off his leather jacket leaving him in just a dark grey t-shirt and jeans. He might by crazy, but the boy had a nice body and I couldn't help the sudden need to drool.
I sat delicately on his couch and took in my surroundings.
"You have a beautiful home," I told him honestly. Everything was masculine and wooden, but it was also very modern. The furniture was dark leather and he had a tasteful carpet to cover up the beautiful wooden floors. No photos of people, which automatically would've clued me into his assassin status if I hadn't already known.
"Thank you," he said reclining on the sofa next to me. "Made only more beautiful by your presence," he added with a wink. God he thinks he is so smooth.
However instead of smacking him hard in the face like I oh so wanted to do, I giggled and tried to hide a blush, since I'm pretty sure that's what he expected me to do.
"Stop it," I said, still giggling. "I'm not even that pretty."
His eyes turned sincere and he reached toward me, letting loose the hasty bun I had put my bright red curls into. "That is where you are mistaken dear," he said trailing his hand down my cheek. I didn't have to fake the look of surprise that light my face.
He bent his head down and laid a kiss right below my ear, making me catch my breath. One good thing that came out of this is that I knew this ought to be quick, and he was more then ready to take things to the bedroom, little player that I could just imagine he was. But a much less good thing also came to my attention. This man was handsome. And having a gorgeous man call you beautiful, and kiss you is just about any girls' fantasy. But I needed to stay focused. Besides, I knew his profession, which he couldn't hide. Plus he must be some total maniac to not only leave the agency but also become a threat to it. No one with his or her head screwed on right would do such a stupid thing.
"Tell me your name," he whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Okay focus. Focus. What did he ask about again? Something about some name?
Oh wait. He asked about my name. God I needed to get a grip.
Without thinking, I pulled away from him, grasping his shoulders and giving him what I hoped to be a lustful look. Aw, hell I knew it was lustful. This kill might be harder then I thought.
But my mindlessness came when I said in a breathy whisper. "Later," god my voice was huskier then what I would have preferred. "Now, the bed."
His eyes turned from a luminous gold to a smoldering color, almost black.
Ohboy.
He pulled my with him to the bedroom, which was just as tastefully decorated as the rest of the apartment, and yanked me on top of him making us fall on the bed. God, he won't take things slow now would he?
I tugged on the collar of his shirt and he got the message striping it off and giving me full view of his chest. Perfect.
I tried not to get distracted by his physic and concentrated. If I could get him to just close his eyes.
I laid open mouthed kisses on his chest and got what I wanted, his head lolled back and he closed his eyes and let out a groan.
I unsheathed my hidden blade hearing the small quick sound of metal releasing from metal and soon my antique bracelet had the attractive addition of an engraved blade.
I tried to be quick, and brought the blade up and angled it toward his heart, but just before I drove it home a hand stopped me.
"Hello Clarissa Fray," Wayland said dropping the Russian accent finally. "I've been expecting you."
Aw damn. Talk about getting busted. And although I doubt any of you know (or care) but indeed for the -1% that got it, the hidden blade was derived from Assassin's Creed. And also to that -1% I hope you saw the new AC Revelations trailer released at E3. I swear I almost piddled myself in either delight or fear or excitement or something else. I'm not really sure at this point.
And also to any Panic! At The Disco fans (whom I hope are much more prevalent then the AC fans) I went to one of their concert's last night in SF and ohmygod. Brendon Urie could not be any more sexy. I swear. And he's always a classy mofo with his bowties and vests and when he came back for the encore, he was smoking a cigarette, and stuck it in his guitar when he had to sing. Oh my god. I thought I might implode.
Right. That's out of the way. First chapter's out so tell me whatcha think!
TILL NEXT TIME COMRADES!