"And why would you want Steve Newlin dead?" Jane questioned the blonde haired woman, covered with large sunglasses, and a depressing head scarf.
"He killed my boyfriend," she choked out as Jane's face held disgust. Knowing that she opened up the gates of hell that took the form of tears and pathetic sobbing in a public place.
"A… vampire?"
She nodded her head, and blew her noise nosily into the tissue, confirming that the boyfriend that was killed, was indeed a vampire. Attracting the attention of people surrounding their table in the small coffee shop with her loud phlegm exposure, Jane was surprised that there were this many people at a coffee shop this late at night.
Jane leaned back into her chair, folding her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes at her pathetic client behind her black wayfarers. "Yeah, well. It's going cost you a lot money."
"How much? Name any price," she said, placing her tissue on the table and grabbing her cheque book from her clutch purse.
"Taking in account that Rev. Steve Newlin is around many people most of the day, including that baboon with the name of Gabe, that he lives on the church premises, and that it's all the way in Dallas… 500,000 dollars."
Kate laughed loudly, "That is an outrage, I could find some homeless man off the street and he would do it for 1000 dollars."
"With a cheap price comes a cheap job. I have no doubt in my mind that if you sent someone in to do that for you, they will fail and be killed, but not before giving your name to The Fellowship. They will find you in a matter of hours, and have you tortured to the point where you want to die. And this isn't any of your slapping on the face, Mean Girls torture, this is the real fucking stuff, and by the time CNN's ad break is over, your name will be plastered for the world to see. Make no mistake; these people will stop at nothing to get what they want."
Jane had no problem with manipulating her clients, 500 grand was going to be one of her biggest pays yet. She knew that her vampire lover boyfriend would have left her an amount of money that Katie was just itching to use in his bloody vengeance.
"And you know what, Katie?" Jane seethed her name with disgust, "I don't need this neophyte shit, thinking that you know more than me about killing people, something I've been doing since you still thought Ken and Barbie were an actual couple. I have a lot of other people who want my services and are enthusiastic to cut off there left arm to have me do it. So excuse me, I must be leaving now."
Jane had only got up to the point in her bluff where she had gotten up off the chair, and throwing a few dollars down onto the table for her coffee's when Katie told her to stop.
"I'll pay you, I'll pay you. Sit the fuck down," she said looking over her cheque book.
Jane did as she was told, and ordered the waiter to get her another coffee.
"What angle are you planning to do this?" She asked, capping her fancy pen and sliding Jane's cheque across the table.
Jane picked up the cheque, bringing it in front of her face; she inhaled deeply with a smirk on her face, the piece of paper running underneath her nose "Half a mill… I have to admit, it feels good."
"I'm sure it does," she squinted her eyes at the gorgeous young girl.
"Well, what approach do you want me to take it?" folding the white piece of paper in half, she stuck it down the front of her shirt, tucking it into her bra.
"I want that church a fucking bloody mess."
"Okay…" Jane sipped her coffee, surprised at Katie's sudden outburst. "So, kill everyone who gets in my way?"
"Especially that slut wife of his-"
"Katie," Jane cut her client off, her eyes flicking towards the caller I.D on her phone. "I gotta take this. I've got your number, you've got mine. Once this goes through, we can talk some more business."
Jane was gone before Katie had time to blink; pressing the button with small green telephone to answer her call.
"What?" Jane talked into the phone, dodging all the people waiting in at the Coffee shop with speed and skill.
"I just got another," Francis, Jane's assistant, said into the phone. Sounding bored to the point where she would have been looking at her nails. "Nice work on the Mr. Manson case the other night, read it in the newspaper. 20 people?"
"Another one?" Jane whined into the phone, ignoring the Mr. Manson comment. She had to admit. Her job was taking a toll on her, people wanted people dead. She concluded that it was the vampire's coming out of the closet… er, coffin two years prior. It had cause mass destruction and accidents were happening all over the place.
"No fear. It's in Dallas, my love."
"Really? My year is definitely taking a turn for the better," Jane looked over her shoulder before continuing, "I just got 500 grand from this mourning lady."
"Bonus for Francis?" Jane found her car, parked terrifically in between a Mazda6 and a Mitsubishi Lancer. Walking over to the driver's side, she rested her elbows on the cool roof.
"I plan on buying a house… and a dog," Jane concluded - once again ignored Francis - sounding contempt with her dreams of buying a house and a dog. "Preferably a Rottweiler."
"Bon Temps, Louisiana. Some dead beat town. Absolutely nothing of interest."
"Except my target," Jane opened the door to her car, hopping in without a second glance back at her client in the Café. "What the hell are you still doing at the office?"
Jane, finding it was too hard to run an assassination business herself, hired a assistant. Francis had been her secretary and best friend for years now. She knew Francis worked hard, but it was 11 in the fucking p.m.
"I am at home. I hooked up the line so that when I'm not at work, the calls are directed to my home line. I don't go to sleep until you're at home and sleeping." Francis replied like it was no big deal.
"How much do I pay you?"
"Not enough."
"Funny!" Jane sarcastically yelled, "'Cause someone's adding little zero's onto your paychecks, and it ain't me."
Francis started to stutter, not being able to get a coherent word out of her mouth. "You're getting sloppy, Francis. Do it right, or don't do it at all. Don't let me catch you again, or it'll you be your head. You hear?"
Jane didn't give time for the older woman to reply, she had hung up the phone. Ripping her sunglasses off her face, she threw them onto the passenger seat next to her. Starting her car up she drove to the nearest convenience store.
xoxoxo
Jane slammed the door of her black 1968 Chevy Chevelle, and walked through the electronic doors of the convenience store. She flinched at the bright lights, her arm flying up to protect her eyes as she fumbled to slip her sunglasses onto her eyes but found that they weren't on top of her head.
"For fucks sake…" She swore quietly to herself, her right arm flew out to the side, hitting the sunglasses stand, she quickly fumbled around sending pairs of sunglasses on to the linoleum floor. Grabbing a pair with black lenses she slipped them on. Jane couldn't even remember the last time she was in the sun. With all the killing lately, she didn't have time to see it. She was forced to go to sleep the time normal people would wake up, and when they went to sleep, she would rise. Ready to kick some ass, and take some names.
She waited as her eyes adjusted the sudden darkness before she turned her gaze to everyone in the store. Looking at her, wondering if she was a vampire. Sending glares towards the staring humanoids, she stepped over the sunglasses, too lazy to pick them up and grabbed a shopping cart. She then smirked at her stupidity, noticing that they wouldn't have been able to see her glare at them behind her sunglasses.
Walking down the long lengthwise, but short in height isles. Seeing nothing to her liking, she sighed loudly again. Deciding she had to buy something. She had already gone through the trouble of getting out of the car and the whole sunglasses shabackle. Finding the Red Bull selection, she scooped 20 cans into her trolley, pushing her trolley further down the isle - ignoring the stares, she found her way to the Magazines, finding any magazine with an interesting title, and cover picture, she threw it into the trolley, once again, furthering herself down the isle.
"Excuse me," a middle aged woman asked from behind her, "How old are you?"
Jane was confused, "22."
The lady giggled, bowing her head at Jane, "How long have you been 22?"
"22 years. Who the fuck do you think I am?" Jane asked annoyed. The lady immediately fell back, apologizing profusely and leaving before Jane could blow up in her face, which was the best idea. When Jane wanted to be, she could be fucking intimidating, not to mention violent. Jane was at the tender age of ten when she was raped by a Russian Mob Boss, when most girls would have shied away from the world and become introvert. Jane did the exact opposite. She began to fight at school, when boys pulled at her hair on the playground she would retaliate by punching them in the face.
The family therapist suggested that she be put into a martial art program, to help calm her nerves in a way that allowed her to vent her anger in the most socially acceptable way they knew. Jane choose Muay Thai, and she became a master, six years, three hours of every day she would train. Winning tournaments every year and winning over the heart of her gym's oldest trainer. But when Jane was 16, her parents were killed in a premeditated house fire. Her father was a surgeon, of Romanian descent, and her mother owned a small fashion boutique, hailing from Greece.
Her father had finally tracked down the man that raped his beloved daughter, and he had attempted to kill him, but failed. The Mob Boss later found him, and killed him and his wife, thinking that the child was in the house when it caught fire.
Jane was old enough to look after herself, old enough to accept the fortune that her parents left for her, and she began her business. At the prime age of 22, she had become one of the world's most deadly female assassin's. Still to this day, she was working out an angle to hit the Russian mob Boss that ruined her life.
"Ring these up," Jane barked the command at the acne infested boy. Who was in awe of her gorgeous looks and intimidating manner.
"Are you taking the sunglasses?" He asked shyly, his fingers pointing towards the sunglasses that covered her hetero chromatic eyes.
Jane didn't talk; she just stood and stared at the teenage boy through her sunglasses. Waiting for him to add the price of the sunglasses to the total price.
"Okay… that comes to the total of $86.37, cash or cre-"
Jane threw a single hundred dollar note onto the counter, grabbing her plastic bags with ease into her hands; she walked out of the store.
xoxoxo
Author's note:
No fear my loves, Eric is long overdue to coming into this story, and he shall be making an appearance anytime soon. But to make these updates come out faster, you should review.
OH! And Sophie is very happy, she woke up this afternoon from her nana nap, and found 23 messages from , all saying that people had subscribed to my story. YAY!