The room was quiet save for the soft ringing the blades made as the knives were sharpened slowly and perhaps unnecessarily. Phaedra stood side on to Sir Malcolm, who was tense and kept glancing at his pocket watch. Most people wouldn't have been able to read the apprehension in his posture but to her it was obvious, she had known him long enough now to be able to read him easily.
"We don't need him." Phaedra said, sparing him a glance before turning back to her weapons "I don't need him." She insisted. She did not like this at all. They didn't need anyone else, she was more than capable of defending them, and the thought of bringing a stranger into the horrific truth they wrestled with did not sit well with her, she didn't think he could be trusted.
"I have already spoken to you of this matter." Sir Malcolm said, sighing with impatience that she had brought up her disagreement once again. Every time he looked at her he was startled for a moment. She truly was a sight to behold. She was only young, young enough to be his daughter and yet she had already endured more horror than most people did their entire lives and when he looked into her youthful face and remembered all she'd been through and all he'd seen her do, he shuddered. He had sought her out after his daughter went missing and the nature of her disappearance became clear to him. Upon gathering as much information as he could from any and every source available to him he had heard her name mentioned more than once, and decided to find her.
She opened his eyes to what he was really dealing with. She too had stumbled across the truth because of loss and her determination for retribution had made her the most lethal person he had ever met, even more impressive upon considering that she was a woman. She was his hunter, and she would help him bring Mina home… or lay her to rest.
"I know you are entirely capable Phaedra, but are close to the source, I can feel it. We can only benefit from more protection at this point. I do this for you as well, I have no desire to see you dead." He said.
Phaedra frowned as she stowed her knives away in the belt around the top of her trousers "I can take care of myself." She said. Sir Malcolm smiled sadly at her. She was not at all like a woman was supposed to be. She never wore dresses unless Sir Malcolm asked her to, and even then she did it with a distinct distaste for the garments, preferring trousers. She often gained attention in the streets from the way she dressed, always in shirts and trousers, but she cared little. She had been made hard by years of grief and the loss of her entire family as a child, but it also amazed him that she was still able to smile and laugh, though sometimes he suspected her true face remained hidden.
They weren't alone for long as a moment later Vanessa arrived with the sharp shooter she had found.
She and Sir Malcolm moved forward to meet them, Phaedra watched him analytically "This is the individual?" Sir Malcom asked.
"Yes." came Vanessa's reply.
"Do you have your weapons?" He pulled his coat back to reveal the holster on his hip. Phaedra wasn't surprised; men were always carrying guns. She had little love for guns, they were fools weapons, loud and unsophisticated, any fool could kill a man with a gun, but knives were different. To truly wield a knife one needed skill, finesse, it was a fine art she had perfected.
As they turned to continue downstairs the new arrival hesitated "One minute." He said. American, Phaedra was mildly surprised. "What're we doing here?"
"We're looking for someone." Sir Malcolm told him "More than that you don't need to know. Do not be amazing at anything you see and don't hesitate."
Phaedra could sense the confusion of the man behind them as they stepped through the doorway into the cellar, walking towards the three creatures waiting for them. Her urge to kill was strong and she placed a hand lightly on the hilt of one of her knives.
Stopping in front of the creature closest to them Sir Malcolm stated "That which you serve we seek." The creature began to talk quickly in Arabic, and Phaedra and Vanessa shared glances. As Sir Malcolm responded the other two moved, beginning to circle the small group, and as she slowly slid a knife out and held it, Phaedra noticed the American removing his gloves and glancing sideways.
Then the talking ended and the familiar started to move away, then turned back. All three attacked at once and Phaedra, the American and Sir Malcolm flew into action. Phaedra threw an expertly placed knife which embedded itself in the gut of the creature nearest to her and already had her second knife in hand by the time it had pulled her first out and had thrown it to the ground. Whilst it was distracted she swooped in low and buried the second knife in the same place the first had hit, this time keeping hold of the hilt and slicing upwards, putting all her strength into it as she did, tearing the beast open from stomach to throat. As it whined and groaned she picked up her second knife, watching it fall to the floor in a lifeless heap.
Around her were the scuffled sounds of fighting and gunshots, but in the distance she could hear wailing. Turning around she brought a foot up and kicked another of the creatures back, more now had joined the fight and they were outnumbered but holding their own. The one before her stumbled back then hissed furiously at her, lunging, claws out ready for the kill. Phaedra swung upwards and thrust her knife through its throat, slamming the other through the front of its skull just a second later.
Another dead, she turned to take in the scene. Six in total were dead, the American was panting, his eyes wide with confusion. Sir Malcolm was also on his feet, as calm as ever. As she stood facing him Phaedra saw one still alive and rising behind him. She reached for a knife but before she could lay a hand on one he had turned and buried a bullet in its skull.
Vanessa was gone, chasing the voices. As Sir Malcolm followed her, the American turned to Phaedra "What the hell is this place?" he gasped.
She smirked "Somewhere far from home." She said.
…
Sir Malcolm screamed in frustration.
They had not found her, they were wrong. They had thought there was only one master, but they had found him and killed him, and yet there was no sign of Mina.
"I told you this was big" Phaedra said, trying to bring Sir Malcolm back around. He was standing with his hands on the wall in front of him, his head hanging in grief, panting hard "Look at that thing! This is bigger than anything I've ever dealt with before Sir Malcolm, we found the master and she's not here!"
"She was here, I know it" He insisted. He stood straight and turned to look at his companions "There must be another master, if she is not here there must be another, this is bigger than we first anticipated." He said.
In the room below they had found a scene of utter carnage. Dozens of bodies had been piled up, all of them torn apart, and the floor and walls were more blood than anything else. There had been others in there, all women, all blonde and not one of them Sir Malcolm's lost daughter. They had traced all evidence of the master back to that building and had found him nesting in a pile of the dead. Sir Malcolm had easily dispatched with it, but the lack of Mina meant their goal was further away than they first believed.
"It would see this is just another step we must take, clearly our journey here is not at an end." Vanessa said.
"No." Sir Malcolm said "It would appear not. Come, we must have this body looked at immediately."
(I know reading scenes you've already seen is boring, but bear with me, it won't be for long.)