Chapter 3

Mr. Sundown was quite the religious man, Cinder discovered. While her primary target had been the late Neon, she had kept track of Tukson's whereabouts all the while. Every Saturday night he would frequent one of Torchwick's numerous dens of sin, then every Sunday he would drag himself to his particular church. She was mentally immersing herself in Tukson's schedule while making her trip, both to distract herself from the conversation she just had...

And what her next job would be. Her thoughts strayed too far, blue eyes flashing in her mind. Damn Qrow and his incessant meddling. Qrow would be better to focus on. Better to keep her cool. The drunkard was a thug, plain and simple. Rose was the one who did all of the work for their partnership, he just acted as her triggerman. She knew he was in debt to his eyeballs, keeping an eye on his finances on her free time. He had recently taken quite the sizable loan as well.

Whatever he needed to keep dragging his feet to the finish line, she supposed. She had arrived outside of the manor, a sprawling estate where Lady Salem resided. Lady Salem was an older woman who had taken control of the criminal elements of North America years before Cinder had even been born. Rumor had it that her power and reach went beyond the borders of one nation. Cinder held pride that she proved to be a useful weapon in Salem's bid to keep her ironclad hold of those channels.

A group so large that Cinder herself did not know how far it reached, with influence that would border on the divine. Cinder took her place here, took pride in being able to help reign in the rowdy and unusual forces. Killing targets for high paying customers, like Neon Katt, ensured their loyalty to Lady Salem and brought them into her web. Of course, Lady Salem could not be connected directly to any of this. She was simply an old woman of incredible health and posture, with a wealth earned from many years of hard work and shrewd decisions.

Gun men posing as guards stood at the gates, clad in matching black and red suits. They nodded to her as she passed by, the gates swinging open smooth and quiet. Here Cinder would get her answers, but she knew she had to be careful about how to phrase it. One who worked under the Mistress did not speak against her orders openly. Nor did they question her logic. Cinder had learned a long time ago to be diplomatic in such situations.

Though she quickly found any diplomatic feelings drain away in the face of her fellow top assassin and equal in the eyes of Salem, Tyrian. The purple eyed, black haired man grinned back at her from his place in the lobby. A frown came to her features unbidden, her displeasure for having to deal with the slaughterer plain. While Cinder was an assassin, she and Tyrian had very different styles.

Cinder made short work of whatever her current objective was, taking no longer than she absolutely had to. There was no sadism on her part, no feelings attached. Tyrian was another matter. He enjoyed the killing, took some sadistic pleasure and often went to extremes with his targets that would churn weaker stomachs.

She would be assigned to deal with subtle targets, the unassuming. Ones that you could blame on a random slaying, wouldn't get much notice. Tyrian was a weapon of dual purpose. He not only preformed his murders, but he made a show of them. Such that when they were discovered they would be remembered. They would send a message. Only three jobs did Cinder ever serve with Tyrian, and she had done her best to forget each. The fact that he had been doing this for longer than herself, and thus held an edge in Salem's esteem, did not help matters.

"Hello there Cindy. How's tricks? Heard you botched your last job something wonderful!"

"Tyrian. A pleasure to see you as usual."

Tyrian stood, taking an over dramatic bow towards her. "My dear, you flatter me. You almost said that with a straight face." His grin widened. "Such a pretty liar you are. I wonder how you'd sound screaming."

Cinder met him with a flat glare. "It'd cost your life to try, psychopath."

"Says the murderess."

"Better than being a butcher."

He held a hand over his heart, playing up the theatrics once more. "Oh, how you wound me! Whatever happened to that young precious little thing that we took into our ever happy family?" He leaned in close, Cinder catching some of his odorous deodorant. "Tell me, will sweet little Emmy end up like you? Or is it not too late to steal her away and put a smile on her face?"

Golden eyes glared at purple. "Touch one hair on her head and even Salem will not save you, Tyrian."

Twisted smile met grimace. "Dear, that just makes it all the more enticing to try."

Cinder knew his butterfly knife was well in hand the moment he needed it. Her own pistol was ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. Could she draw faster than he could slash? Yes, her glare intensifying, she did believe she could. Not that she would get the chance to find out, a new voice crashing over them.

"If you two children are quite finished, we have a joint meeting with the Mistress that is due haste."

Cinder and Tyrian broke away from each other, Tyrian winking at the younger woman as he went to join the newcomer. Tall as a pole and just as skinny, Watts stood at the entrance of the stairwell, a sneer on his features. He was dressed in his best as per usual, a dark purple suit with Victorian sensibilities. Tyrian had on his usual vest and heavy trench coat, worn and rough like his own personality. Watts was, to Cinder as a child and Cinder as an adult, a bore of a man filled with self-importance about his own meager contributions to something much greater than himself.

He would drone on for hours about market stability and business sense, acting as her personal tutor as he saw fit. His role in the organization was as Salem's left-hand man, her right taken up by a far more reliable sort, an intelligence broker and finance wizard. It was rumored that he held blackmail over every major corporate owner and government official, even the Schnee patriarch. She knew for a fact that his contracts spread into the paramilitary.

He looked back at her, judging her by some private measure all his own. "The Coal boy was not meant to be slain. One of our sponsors was most upset at his premature termination."

Cinder rolled her eyes. "Unavoidable collateral. He walked in on the murder of the target."

"Then you should have taken better care to ensure he would not have."

Cinder looked back at Watts who had turned away from her. "He shouldn't have been there. I don't know why he came back, but he was supposed to be at a recital."

His body language betrayed nothing, but Cinder could detect a slight edge of mirth to his voice. "Ah yes. That would have been a private one for that particular sponsor. As it turns out they had to cancel, prior arrangements with myself." He looked back at her and she could just feel the smugness radiating from him. "Truly just a case of bad luck, I suppose. You're hanging around that Qrow fellow far too much."

He also made a habit of keeping tabs on everyone and everything in the syndicate. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." She was only happy Tyrian had rushed ahead of them so that he was not privy to the conversation. The last time Qrow had been brought up around the fool, he had babbled about wedding bells.

As if Cinder would lower her standards so far. Cinder shifted her attention to the stairwell instead. The manor was a modest affair, a wood and stone construct from near the start of the country that had been renovated and remodeled over the years. Smokey glass banisters and black carpeting contrasted with white walls quite well, if Cinder was to be honest. As far as most in the city were concerned, it was simply the business headquarters for Salem, which wasn't inaccurate.

"Watts," Cinder knew she had to be careful about this subject. "About my next mission, do you have any idea who commissioned it?"

Watts looked back at her, eyes narrowing. "This would be concerning the Arc musician. No, it was an anonymous hit." He stopped for a moment. "The second hit released with the Arc job, did you take it yet?"

Cinder shook her head. "Never go more than one job ahead, Watts. That's how you make mistakes." She knew that's what he wanted to hear, rather than the truth that they were ordered to withhold it until Sundown was killed.

A thin smile crossed his features. "Good girl."

Anonymous. Why would someone put a hit on such a small person and then bother to hide their identity? Cinder considered Watts, suspicion running rampant through her mind. The rest of their journey up to the meeting was in silence. By the time they arrived, Salem was seated at the head of the table, Hazel to her immediate right and Tyrian to her immediate left. Hazel was the aforementioned right-hand man of the organization, a giant bear of a man with numerous scars covering his body. He carefully considered Cinder and Watts as they took their places, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Cinder always felt so small under his gaze.

Yet she knew she had nothing to fear from him. Above all else, Hazel was the most loyal and dedicated to Salem, having served by her side even longer than Watts. Some of the older staff, the cleaning crews that Salem had employed since her rise to power, claimed he had been by her side from the beginning. A beginning that predated Cinder by decades. Salem's hair at some point had gone snow white, with heavy lines showing her aging proudly. Yet she was no less beautiful now, as distinguished as she had been some twenty years prior when she took Cinder from her wretched home.

Roman and Hei "Junior" Xiong arrived not too long after, each of the major cogs in Salem's machine for this city filing into place. Roman gave Cinder a wink as he took a seat next to Watts, Junior hesitantly sitting between herself and Tyrian. No doubt their personal attendants were waiting outside. Cinder looked to the head of the table. Calm grey eyes that held endless pools of wisdom regarded Cinder warmly. The matriarch of the city raised her hand to get the attention of all those present.

"As has been made aware to me, we have secured total control over the local law enforcement branches. I must thank the continued efforts of Mr. Torchwick, Ms. Fall and Mr. Callows for this great boon to our organization." She allowed a few moments of praise to come back and forth before silencing the table again. "On the reputable side of things, Mr. Xiong has obtained considerable reach outside of Vale through legal channels. More than enough for Mr. Torchwick to spread his web of corruption through. Doubling that with Watts' ever-present information network and there is nothing that happens in this city without my blessing."

Salem stood, each member of her cabal bowing their heads. "The city of Vale is ours. Our reach into the greater country grows by the hour. Take pride in your deeds and drink deep our victory, but do not ever become lax. Losing vigilance is tantamount to losing power itself." Salem's voice grew harsh. "What we have is fragile. Any slip up, any crack, any show of weakness, and this whole operation will burn around us. In the next few days, I will be attending to matters beyond Vale." She turned her attention to Cinder, Roman, Junior and Tyrian. "You four will be charged with keeping things on task. Complete your jobs, keep active, stay on top of things. Our power shall only grow in time, and with it, your rewards."

Rewards that went beyond the monetary. Cinder alone had a stash of untraceable cash, many times over the amount she would ever need in three life times, let alone the time she had. She knew for a fact that Tyrian drew no less of a price, though neither requested a payment. Working for Lady Salem was more than reward enough, but the fact that their ever need and want was accounted for was pleasant. One would have to be a greedy fool to seek more than what Lady Salem allowed, and Cinder was no such fool.

Cinder and Tyrian didn't need to be here for this meeting, but Salem always called them forward regardless. Cinder always appreciated the gesture, understanding that it was purely for her own benefit. Roman began to drone on about his gambling den this and prostitution ring that. He remarked that he had a child of an important senator kidnapped a few weeks back, was keeping the kid in some warehouse or other. Biding his time to figure out the proper time cash that chip in and who to use as a proxy for it. Oscar Pine was his name.

Cinder watched Roman more intently than usual, knowing that if Jaune Arc had crossed anyone in the underworld this would be the man to know. She shifted her attention to the giant of a man named Junior, who seemed to be so much smaller next to her. She realized he was drawing himself in, as if touching either of the assassins next to him would itself be a death sentence. Cinder almost found it flattering. He would be the second person she turned to for information, on the off chance that it was a more reputable sort of life that Arc led.

As the meeting concluded, each member of the cabal rose and filed out of the room. Only Cinder, Hazel and Lady Salem remained, Cinder sitting at her spot still. Salem's gaze turned toward her before her voice rose.

"Hazel, you may leave us."

Hazel nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

Once the man had left, Salem motioned to Cinder. Cinder rose, head bowed.

"How rare a treat this is. A woman so proud, showing such respect."

"Ma'am?"

"Oh, think no ill of it, Cinder. Merely a remark that it is nice to see you still remember how to be humble. Your pride, Cinder, is a powerful talent. A dangerous trait. It defines you better than any other, but you must take care not to let it control you." Salem smiled, some joke only she could hear playing in her head.

Cinder raised her head, uncertain how to approach the subject at hand. Salem stopped her with a look.

"This is, no doubt, about the unusual method of delivery for your latest assassinations. Watts had informed me of them, of course, and let on that he believed that they would be quite the adventure to see. Perhaps he betrayed himself too much?" Salem chuckled, Cinder missing some great joke. She did not have long to ponder before her Mistress continued. "He, however, was not the one to dictate how they were given to you." Salem leaned back, looking out the window. What she saw, Cinder could not. "I was."

Cinder wasn't given enough time to react when Salem stood, taking her aback. She did not stand with any malicious intent, in fact there was no motion to it at all. It was almost as if she just shifted from a sitting position to a standing one. The other thing that drew Cinder's attention was Salem's size. She was a fine woman, of good proportions and strong features barely touched by age. She was also much taller than one would assume, taller even than Hazel or Junior.

Salem seemed to hide her size when she did not want you to be aware of it. A skill she had learned over the years Cinder had to presume. One only took notice of Salem when she wanted them to. Any questions Cinder had died in her throat as her mistress walked past her, her flowing dress staying just an inch above the floor as always.

"I trust your judgement on what to do from this point forward, Cinder. Know that and pursue your next actions carefully. I will be watching."

With that, the door closed, and the most incredible woman Cinder had ever known had left. The room seemed so much smaller without its mistress, more mundane by her absence. Cinder began to second guess herself. Was she really that tall? All she knew was that in that instant, the two had shifted positions of an aging matriarch and a trained, dangerous assassin, back to what they were before. The impossible woman, strong and confident, with all the answers and all the power, standing over the cowering, cringing child.

Cinder wasn't sure how to feel about this. Shaking her head, she put the matter away. Salem gave her blessing to handle her next two jobs however she chose. She deigned to impart the wisdom that these would not be normal jobs, something that amused Watts, something that Cinder had sought to confirm.

Now to see what Roman had to say about the musician, Jaune Arc.