Kade was struggling to get out of his opponent's hold all in vain, but he wasn't willing to give in just yet.

Long, cold fingers gripped his neck with a bruising force, effectively blocking his airways and preventing him from filling his burning lungs with much needed oxygen. Dying by the hands of his target was definitely not how his mission was supposed to turn out. The man currently choking him should be dead already – the Underworld was supposed to echo Kade's victory over the young tyrant right this moment. His plan was too good – nearly flawless even – to let him go down this way, and yet, there he was, desperately clawing at the arm that belonged to someone who wasn't even meant to walk around breathing anymore.

The Darklighter tried to reach for the dagger plunged into his own side, but his opponent answered the small movement with a firm squeeze around his neck. That was the moment panic started to set in the older man's mind.

The burning feeling in his chest started to get too intense for him to bear, and it soon surpassed the pain caused by the nasty wound under his ribs as well. His blood was silently trickling down to the marble floor, and his deep-brown eyes were soon being filled with water.

Still, it was only after he felt the first teardrop rolling down his cheek that Kade took notice of his body's reflexive reaction to the assault.

He was crying.

'She was crying.'

Bianca had been inwardly replaying the events of the last hour probably for the thousandth time since she took off to collect her stuff. She spent just a little bit more time at the Resistance than she originally planned to, but fortunately she proved to be rather quick when it came down to packing up her belongings. She decided to shimmer to her destination straight from her apartment, having no reason to hide her trail from the probes that monitored the magical activity on the streets of the city.

It took her a good ten minutes to convince herself to actually leave the confines of her bedroom; she was reluctant to part with the little illusion of safety her old residence provided. She knew she couldn't postpone her arrival at her master's place forever though, so after taking a pained breath, she focused on her destination and found herself out in the open once again.

Bianca had to admit that simply looking at the huge house that was supposed to be her new home left her feeling utterly hopeless and unsure about herself. She couldn't really say she was a total stranger to the feeling of helplessness, but that didn't make it any easier for her to accept her own fate. Even though she knew she was supposed to cross the street and enter the building she would probably spend the rest of her life in – which probably wouldn't last much longer according to most of the Resistance members – she just couldn't will her limbs to move. Her legs felt heavy and every time she tried to swallow her throat contracted painfully. She was surprised at how steady her hand seemed when she reached to tuck her hair behind one ear, but the slight movement still managed to make her breath shaky again.

'She was crying because of me.'

It had been almost an hour since the witch witnessed Melinda's spectacular departure from the council meeting, but as much as Bianca tried to force her mind to ignore the girl's rather dramatic outburst, she couldn't help but feel affected by the Halliwell's little speech. That, along with Prue's bone crushing hug as a farewell left the Phoenix slightly dazed…

Bianca felt her anger rise inside as she recalled the horrified expression on her friend's face when they said their goodbyes. No matter how hard Prue tried to hide her misery, everyone could tell she wasn't expecting the Phoenix to return with another report anytime soon. As a matter of fact, she didn't expect for her to return at all.

'She was crying for me.'

Apparently, Cole had been the only council member who didn't anticipate Bianca's death sometime during the very near future, but as distressing as that might have been, it was still Prue's barely concealed anguish that made the assassin's blood boil. She didn't know exactly what Christopher did to earn the title of being Prue's ultimate nightmare, but she knew one thing for sure.

Even though her situation seemed hopeless, even though she felt tempted to just give up and choose the easy way out, she couldn't do that to Prue. She may have little to no motivation to fight a losing battle, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try and hold on as long as she possibly could. That was the least she could do for a girl who was willing to shed tears upon her fate.

Then and there, the Phoenix decided she would refuse to go down without a fight.

The Darklighter simply refused to go down without a fight.

His eyes were scanning the room for his crossbow, but the dark spots that blocked his sight multiplied by each passing second, signaling that his brain was going to shut down any moment now. His thoughts were disoriented, head spinning as waves of sharp pain washed through him more and more often, leaving his body jerking and trembling uncontrollably. His ineffective attempts at kicking with his legs didn't seem to faze the younger man the slightest, and when Kade's vision completely blacked out for a short second he realized that losing consciousness was closer than he thought.

Being short on options he sank his nails in the man's arm as deep as his remaining strength allowed him, but there was no reaction from the Ruler, not even after he felt the slickness of blood on his fingertips. He rather heard than felt his own knees hitting the ground with a soft thud, and he grabbed his opponent's shoulder somewhat pleadingly in his rising desperation.

He didn't count on not being able to use his Touch of Death on his prey alright, but there still had to be a way to get out of the mess alive. There always was. If only he could think properly…

There were a million thoughts shooting through Kade's fogged mind at a rapid speed, but his brain couldn't filter any of them well enough for it to be sorted anymore. His eyelids grew heavy, throat sore from his choked sobs, and with his senses dulled by the throbbing pain there was only one thing left that the Darklighter's conscience was able to register.

He was still aware that if he didn't find a way out of this whole ordeal quickly, the Ruler would show him the shortest way out himself.

Bianca was sure that if she didn't find a way out of this situation soon, Christopher would decide and present her with one himself.

Naturally, she wasn't the greatest supporter of that idea, but there was little she could do to delay the confrontation with the Halliwell further. She made her way across the street with a stiff posture, readjusting the grey holdall bag that was hanging heavily on her shoulder. Assessing the weight of the thing the woman suddenly became immensely grateful for her ability to transport magically in the blink of an eye. 'Thank God for small miracles,' she thought sarcastically, even going as far in her mocking as shooting a glare upwards to an entity she didn't really believe in. Yet, as much as Bianca's mood wasn't bright enough to appreciate the usefulness of her powers for real, she still had to admit that dragging that bag through half the city would probably have killed her.

Well, not literally, of course – that privilege was reserved for the man waiting for her on the other side of the door she was currently eyeing.

Zankou told her there were no wards on the building, but Bianca was still uncertain about how to approach the entry. She could see no bell on the wall, and after a bit of hesitation she concluded that shimmering into a possible line of fire wasn't a wise decision, so the Phoenix decided to settle for knocking – ignoring how ridiculously juvenile she felt at that moment. She tried to turn the handle out of sheer habit before raising her arm though, and to her greatest surprise, she found the door unlocked.

That was something she honestly didn't expect. Just who would leave their house unprotected like this? Such carelessness could not be allowed by anyone who—

Bianca caught herself before she could finish that thought, forcing herself to remember just whose land she was standing on again. For a moment she felt incredibly stupid for her naivety. Who on Earth would possibly have the guts to pass his threshold without invitation, after all? Anyone who'd be foolish enough to attempt to do so wouldn't live long enough to see the color of the carpet inside.

The assassin sighed and knocked on the large wooden door with a quick, steady rhythm. She tried again after receiving no answer for a minute, but after her third attempt she braced herself and pushed the door open with more confidence she managed to actually muster.

She didn't even have the time to take in her new surroundings before a noise coming from upstairs caught her attention, making the witch halt her movements and listen to her surroundings intently.

Barely hanging onto consciousness on a thread, Kade halted his movements and let his eyelids fall shut at last. Listening intently he tried to detect something that would help him recognize his surroundings, but the only thing his hearing was still able to pick up was the sound of his own, steadily slowing heartbeat. He vaguely realized that the burning feeling in his lungs was gone and that the ache in his side dulled into a barely noticeable throb as well. The sudden loss of pain triggered the remnants of the survival instinct he once fully possessed, and a last moment of clarity hit him like a ton of bricks.

He was dying!

The realization came way too late though, and Kade couldn't even hear the last choked cry that somehow forced its way through his gritted teeth before he felt the hardness of the floor against his skull.

Bianca heard a choking sound coming from the direction of the stairs again, and she couldn't suppress a shiver from the disgust. She knew what the noises meant; she heard the wordless cries of someone begging for mercy one too many times not to recognize them now. The noises meant that her very first experience in her new residence wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

The noises were whispering about death.

'Death'.

It was odd how his almost lifeless body couldn't sense anything from the real world anymore, but his mind was still able to paint the cruel word clearly at the back of his closed eyelids.

That was the last conscious memory the Darklighter's brain was able to store, and then, within a matter of seconds, it was over.

Kade was gone.

Someone had just died up there. Bianca could feel the faint presence growing weaker and weaker, waning until it finally slipped away completely.

Not sparing another glance at the decoration, the Phoenix dropped her bag in the foyer and made her way swiftly towards the spiral staircase, silently pleading with the universe to find her master still alive and breathing in one of the rooms upstairs. Sure enough, she wouldn't have a nagging conscience over Christopher's death if it occurred, but she had a feeling that letting him die during the first hour she was supposed to be protecting him wouldn't sit very well with his brother.

She extended her senses as she reached the top of the stairs, and found another presence in the last room at the end of the wide hallway. She ran over to the room and all but burst the door open, realizing the fault in that action just a heartbeat too late. Urgency overtook her usually precautious nature, and while she was prepared to meet most of the possible sceneries that could be hidden behind the cover of that door, she had no instinctive reaction to the sight that actually greeted her.

A middle-aged man lay motionlessly on the floor. Dark hair, black clothing, a tribal tattoo on the side of his face. Shattered pieces of a broken vase in the corner. A particularly familiar crossbow tossed aside.

'A Darklighter.'

A pool of velvety, scarlet blood surrounded the dead man as a net, and Bianca had to suppress a shiver when she saw the blade of a dagger that was half-buried under the ribs of the lifeless body. Her gaze was instantly redirected to the person standing above the unfortunate man, who seemed to be lost in assessing his prey as it slowly began to dissolve and turn into ashes.

Christopher.

All the determination Bianca managed to work up previously disappeared the moment she laid eyes on the man. His eyes were glued to the remnants of the deceased man, his breathing slow and even – as if he hadn't even been in a fight mere moments ago. His apparent detachment made Bianca wonder how much of a fight there really had been for a moment, but then she spotted some angry red lines on the side of his neck.

The sight of the scratch marks and the bloody trails on his left forearm left little place for doubt in her mind about the battle between the two men, and she found her uneasiness worsening rapidly by the thoughts. Victory shouldn't have come as easily to him as he currently made it appear.

The Phoenix unconsciously held her breath. She watched in frozen terror as the pool of blood seemed to extend even after the Darklighter was nothing more than a pile of ashes, not daring to interrupt the unexpected stillness. The crimson soon reached her master's shoes, but he didn't step away. He raised his arm instead lazily, eyes fixated on his hand as he rubbed his thumb against the rest of his fingertips repeatedly. The blood smeared his digits with a taunting ease.

Bianca recognized this nonchalance. The Source practically radiated the same feeling after killing someone. She pulled a straight face and willed herself to stay still – only her mind was silently screaming at the scene.

Tearing her gaze from her master she tried to focus on her surroundings, hoping that a view not sinking in blood would calm her pounding heart. Unfortunately for her, there wasn't much to look at.

The room was spacy and simple. Light grey walls, black furniture with silver linings, heavily in contrast with the white marble floor. There was a bed next to the window, but it didn't look like it was being used. As a matter of fact, nothing in there looked like it was being used – ever. The silky sheets were too smooth, the reflections on the floor too sharp, the leather couch obviously not adapted to weight. Probably as uncomfortable as it looked, too.

The whole room reminded her of Christopher – it was immaculate, unfriendly, and cold.

"Come closer."

Bianca flinched at the deep voice. She didn't really expect Christopher to address her just yet. He didn't look up – his gaze remained stubbornly glued to his fingers. If he wouldn't have instructed her to move, she would be inclined to think he didn't even notice her loud entrance. She made a few careful steps in the Halliwell's direction, stopping a good few feet away from the ruby liquid covering the marble.

And then she waited.

What for, she wasn't sure. Would he let her stay as Wyatt instructed? Or would he simply dismiss her, not wanting to be disturbed by her presence? For all she knew, he could easily kill her on an impulse. The King probably wouldn't mind a missing assassin that much.

"What's your name?"

The question sounded so full of apathy Bianca was sure the man was more interested in learning about fluffy unicorns than he was in learning her name, but she answered automatically nonetheless.

"Bianca," she hesitated a bit before going on, remembering Zankou's warning about addressing the ruler, "Bianca Vess, sir."

Christopher finally dropped his hand and looked up after hearing her reply, but she noticed he never stopped rubbing his bloodied fingers together. It looked like as if he was trying to memorize the texture of the warm fluid. The movement held her gaze for a long minute, covering up the fact that she didn't have the courage to actually look him in the eye.

"Bianca," Christopher repeated the name much in the same manner his brother did not so long ago, testing the feel of it as it rolled down his tongue. "I really, really don't want you to be here, Bianca."

The words hit home heavily, sending alarm bells ringing instantly in the Phoenix's head. Her breath hitched and her head shot up on its own accord, making her panic filled eyes finally meet the young man's still scarily lifeless ones. She had to collect all her self-restraint to prevent herself from backing away when Christopher closed the distance between them in a few, lazy steps.

He didn't break eye contact for a second. She was transfixed by the powerful look he was regarding her with – so much she didn't even notice that he neglected to sidestep the pool of blood as he strolled up to her. When he finally came to a stop there were only a few inches separating him from the witch, but she held her ground and raised her chin, not willing to give her apprehension away.

It was terrifying to stand so close to the infamous Witchlighter, and yet, the first thought that popped up in the woman's mind left her slightly shocked at the fact how strangely her own brain could work sometimes.

Christopher Halliwell smelled like rain. Fresh, clean, earthy… and inexplicably green.

Not even the rich, rusty smell of drying blood managed to overpower his scent from up this close, and Bianca wanted nothing more than to slap herself when the armada of adjectives invaded her mind. She made an effort to focus and pushed the disorienting thoughts away, but as she forced her breath to even out she realized that getting lost in his magnetizing stare wasn't doing any good to her state of mind either.

He was almost a head taller than her and the witch had to tilt her head back into an uncomfortable position to be able to hold his gaze. His eyes were even more enticing than she remembered; the rich, vivid green orbs reflected the light sharply, making them appear shinier and brighter than anything she ever saw. Up so close she could even make out a dark, bluish rim around the outer part of his irises, and countless, brilliant yellow rays that radiated around his pupils.

All of a sudden, Bianca had a hard time believing those eyes belonged to someone who appeared to be so completely void of life.

She gulped audibly as the silence stretched between them, dreading the man's next move. He said he didn't want her there – only that she was there, and she wasn't eager to find out about the lengths he'd be willing to go to change that fact.

"What should we do about that now?"

His voice was low, barely above a whisper, and her pulse sped up impossibly more when she felt his breath tickle her nose and cheeks. She could pick up on just the slightest hint of alcohol in the unfamiliar scent, but she couldn't identify the type – she has never been a keen drinker. All she could tell was that it was something strong and probably expensive.

Not knowing how to answer that question she clenched her jaw in her growing desperation, praying her master wouldn't interpret that as a sign of defiance. She caught the movement of his arm from the corner of her eye, but she didn't dare to direct her gaze away from his face. The slight glint of the golden chain didn't escape her sight though, and Bianca realized what he was doing long before Christopher could finish pulling out the amulet from under his shirt.

All the color left the Phoenix's face as she waited to catch a glimpse at the pendant that was surely attached to the thin chain. There were only three gemstones known for their ability to trap spells permanently, and Bianca would be willing to bet her life the young ruler was just about to show her that he had one of his own. Such charms were quite common among witches; even she owned one, albeit rarely carried it around. They were usually used in battles, and the Phoenix preferred to rely on their combat skills rather than crafty spells and Wiccan powers.

Bixbite was the rarest kind of gem that could be used for such purposes – so rare that Bianca personally never came across an amulet made from the stone, but for some reason, she still half-expected for the Halliwell to have one on the string hanging around his neck. She was almost disappointed when her peripheral vision finally picked up the barest suggestion of something green.

Unfortunately for her, jadeite could also be used as a trapping charm, and her mind was already too busy dreading the spell that it could possibly contain to appreciate the magical artifact.

Bianca flexed her muscles as much as she could without it being too obvious, and braced herself for a coming attack when Christopher tapped on the stone with his clean index finger once, twice, pausing slightly before adding the final pat. Her body urged her to take a defensive stance, but she was aware that the action would be a complete waste if the man decided to unleash an offensive spell indeed. The Halliwell shot her a mildly curious look before proceeding, apparently sensing her distress, but he didn't seem to be displeased with her reaction.

And thrice.

Bianca waited for the rush of magic to wash through her, to make an appearance either visibly or perceptibly by another sense, but it never came. Christopher began to tuck the piece of jewelry back under his grey shirt, and this time, Bianca decided to take the leap of courage and break eye contact in order to study the gem. It was a jadeite alright – and an exceptionally clean one at that – sheathed in a thin rim of gold. It didn't appear to be broken, but the man covered it with his clothing before she could analyze it further.

"Tell me, Bianca," he spoke up as he moved to stand behind the Phoenix, "why did my brother instruct you to stay with me?" he breathed the question into her ear, making the hairs on her nape stand up at the intruding presence.

"To ensure your safety, sir," she answered automatically, grateful for her ability to keep conversations going even under the level of stress she currently had to deal with. Christopher started to circle her in a predatory fashion, and while she knew the action was purposefully chosen to intimidate her, she still had to admit it worked.

"Do I look like someone who needs protection?"

Oh, most definitely not. He had just taken out a Darklighter – a Tracker at that – probably without even using his powers. Even if she ignored the fact that he was a freaking Halliwell, Christopher was still the furthest thing from someone who was in the need of an assassin's protection.

'I might as well make it easy on him and stab myself now. That would be a quicker and less humiliating way to leave this world for sure.'

"N-no, sir."

The young man didn't stop waking in lazy circles around Bianca, making her feel more trapped than she could remember ever feeling before. His scent filled her nostrils and made her slightly lightheaded, and suddenly she couldn't bring herself to keep her eyes at the level of his face. She long forgot about the jadeite's previous ineffectiveness when nervousness made her drop her gaze…

Only to find the white marble spotless.

Her eyes widened a fraction when she failed to find the pool of blood that was left from the Darklighter, and she didn't even think about suppressing the snort that broke out of her upon realizing what happened.

"Something funny?"

Okay, wait. Did she really just snort in front of the Halliwell? Not a good move. Apart from the fact that it was highly unprofessional to show amusement in front of her employer, showing emotions could be quite a dangerous slip up as well – especially while serving a merciless mass murderer.

But really, how could she not snort at the happenings? That stone under his shirt was – maybe not the rarest, but still the most expensive gem known to mankind. It could be used to contain the most powerful spells that would take too much time to cast verbally in the heat of a battle; repelling shields, binding spells, torturing curses, or even lethal ones…

But an ordinary cleaning spell? The man was practically standing at the top of the world, and that was what he was using his amulet for?

Was this guy even for real?

"I was expecting something stronger from your amulet than a cleaning spell," Bianca answered truthfully before she could catch herself, but the way her master tilted his head made her refrain from apologizing.

"Aren't you afraid of me, Bianca?" he asked in a menacing tone, but the woman picked up on the underlying curiosity in his words.

Wasn't she afraid of him? Was he kidding? She had been seconds away from a heart attack ever since her obviously malfunctioning brain decided it was a good idea to run into the room without invitation. Of course she was afraid of him – she would be a fool not to. He seemed to be hesitating between getting rid of her and letting her live, and Bianca knew she wouldn't stand a chance at defending herself in case he decided to lay his vote down next to the latter.

"Don't try to please him, Bianca," Henry's parting words echoed in the woman's mind. "Never just tell him what you think he wants to hear like you did with Wyatt. Chris likes blind obedience, but don't pretend to be unafraid when you're not. He will know… and trust me, you don't want to get caught lying to him."

"I am," she replied honestly, and concluded that she would have said the same thing even if it wasn't for Henry's advice. She was sure Christopher could practically smell her fear with every shaky breath she took; denying would have been a wasted effort. She could only hope that her bluntness was something the younger Halliwell brother would want to entertain himself with for at least a bit longer.

"You don't seem like it," he said as he came to a halt again in front of her, although there was considerably more space between them than the first time. "I'm not used to that."

She must have been a better actress than she thought she was if Christopher really couldn't see the turmoil she was in, but before she could voice how appearances could be deceiving, the man abruptly shot his head at the direction of the door, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Seems like we have more guests."

At first, Bianca didn't understand what the Ruler was talking about. She perked up her ears but there were no noises coming from the hallway, so she decided to rely on her sensing ability once more. She concentrated on her surroundings for a moment, and surely enough, she could feel the three visitors downstairs that most certainly weren't present when she entered the apartment.

"Take them out."

The harsh command caught Bianca by surprise. Last she checked Christopher wasn't very keen on the idea of having a bodyguard, and now he was instructing her to act as if she had been serving him for years. She was confused, but once again, a recent memory convinced her not to hesitate before submitting.

"Wyatt is predictable," Henry said after most of the people left the meeting room, leaving him, Bianca and Prue alone. "Chris though… he is anything but. It's like… like he doesn't have a proper reason to do anything he does. It's like he doesn't need one."

Without thinking, Bianca conjured a dagger and took a fighting stance, the ripples of shimmering already disbanding her body. Her vision went blank for a second, and the next thing she knew, she was facing…

Christopher. Again.

"You might want to take the stairs," he provided with a light smirk, but the gesture did nothing to fill his expression with life.

There were anti-shimmering wards around the house. Less comforting than having actual protective ones, but Bianca guessed it would still ease her job if demons had to come in through the front door rather than appear at random places.

She didn't have to search for the intruders for long after descending the stairs; the ground floor was basically a large living room with a high ceiling and an open kitchen. The doors that led to those few rooms that were connected to it were all open except for one, but the woman didn't even have to look in those before she spotted the Darklighters. The two men were standing in wait at the back of the spacious room, crossbows pointing in the direction of the staircase.

'At least these are not Trackers,' Bianca thought, not seeing the same tribal tattoo on their faces that she saw on her master's recent victim. Trackers were a bitch to take out.

The expression of the men clearly said they weren't expecting a royal assassin to make an appearance, and Bianca used their moment of surprise to throw her dagger at one of them, aiming for his chest with deadly precision. She barely dodged an arrow coming from the other man, but she was on her feet and snapping his neck before he could even register what was happening. A kick in the gut here, an additional energy ball there, and within a minute she was done.

Darklighters were usually better trained in combat than these two were, so Bianca guessed they must have been relatively new ones. She just hoped the third would be not much more experienced either.

The room with the closed door was in the furthest corner from where she was standing, and Bianca muttered something about overusing her sensing before she reached out with her magic again. Her chase proved to be rather anticlimactic, as unsurprisingly, she felt the third presence hiding behind the door just like she expected.

"That's my room."

Christopher's voice echoed among the wood-covered walls, and Bianca spun around only to find him assessing the damage that the arrow did to one of the railing posts. She wasn't sure if the statement was meant to be a denial of access to the mentioned area, but her master's next words quickly washed all her doubts away.

"Nobody enters my room without my excess permission and walks out of it."

Needless to say, Bianca was immensely glad they cleared that up before she managed to bust the door on the intruder.

"There's someone in there," she supplied simply, not really finding the words that could provide a lengthy explanation as to why she was walking towards the forbidden territory before he let his presence known.

"I'm aware."

Ah. Of course he was aware; he was Christopher Halliwell for heaven's sake. The urge to slap herself made itself known once more in Bianca's mind, hating herself for sounding so stupid simply because she was still high on adrenaline. She had to stop saying things that suggested she thought of her master as some ordinary, helpless human, otherwise… well, she wasn't sure what exactly would happen, but the man's irritated expression promised her dire consequences.

"Get rid of that," he motioned to the arrow embedded in the wooden pillar as he gave his order, making his way towards the closed door without sparing another glance at the witch. "And make yourself at home," he added casually as he passed her by, and while Bianca didn't have a clue as to why he decided to give her a chance, the words still took the worst of the load off her mind.

For now.

She closed her eyes and tried to exhale as quietly as possible as the Halliwell reached the door, but his voice made her heart jump into her throat once again.

"And Bianca?" he addressed her as he turned the handle, making her name sound like as if he already grew a liking to it. "I don't care what Wyatt instructed you to do. You answer solely to me, and you are not to tell him about anything that happens during your stay here. Is that clear?"

She should have known she wouldn't get away so easily. So, now he was expecting her to freaking lie to the Source of All Evil. Yeah, that will surely go exceptionally well.

It wasn't like she didn't have things to hide from the King, but Bianca never actually had to tell a lie directly to His face. Her only real secret was her involvement with the rebellion, and as an assassin, she was rarely questioned about the Resistance – if at all. Cole and his company usually kept a low profile, and her duties hardly involved sniffing around.

She gulped as she contemplated her options, but recalling Prue's voice in her head was quick to help her make a decision.

"Mel is right though. He really is different from Wyatt." The oldest Halliwell girl raised her voice just a bit, but her eyes softened once she fixed them on her friend again. She took a deep, pained breath, blinking a few times to prevent her eyes from tearing up any further. "God, I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but… whatever he wants you to do, just do it Bianca. Don't think about what it is. I know you like to pose a challenge, but… don't. Just don't. Please. Don't give him a reason to kill you, because he won't hesitate to take it."

"Yes, sir," Bianca uttered quietly as she watched the back of her master disappear behind the door of his room, and suddenly she knew this damned city wouldn't be the death of her like she thought just a few hours ago. The eventual cause of her death had a name other than San Francisco…

…and it smelled distinctly like rain.

...

So, it's still not beta-read yet, but I got sooo many demands to update that I just couldn't wait any longer. ^^ Hope you like it!

And that said, thank you so much for your reviews, I'm reallyrealllly glad you're enjoying this story! Keep the reviews coming ;)