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For the first time that he could remember, Ian Nottingham was bored. Restless even. He had been trained, and so grown accustomed to long periods of inactivity; of silence and waiting. But today he found himself unable to empty his mind. It had never before occurred to him that he was wasting time during these periods, but he thought of it now.
Irons had always told him to take advantage of such opportunities to meditate and center himself. Ian had accepted this advice without question. Just then, though, Ian knew meditation would be impossible. He was too edgy. He considered doing sword drills, but he doubted very much that he could maintain the intense level of concentration required to execute the drills successfully. Irons would certainly notice if Ian's swordplay was off.
Ian's mind wandered back to the book Adrienne had been reading the previous evening. Out of curiosity, and to pass the time while the girl dressed, he had read several chapters. Mystery novels were hardly his standard reading material; Irons would certainly have disapproved strongly. At the moment though, Ian could not stop wondering how the story turned out. He was a quick read, and he had been enjoying the book immensely (it was so very different from what Irons instructed him to read), but he couldn't very well take it with him once Adrienne was prepared to leave.
Perhaps tonight, he mused, when he took up his post on Sara Pezzini's fire escape, he would slip in and borrow the book for the duration of the night. Ian shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was ridiculous for him to be considering such trivial, petty things. What had gotten into him?
Adrienne had returned to her sister's apartment a short time before Ian Nottingham. Having put her coat and keys neatly away, she headed over to the low table she had set in the far corner of the room. Carefully, she drew a circle in white chalk of the floor, just large enough so she could fit comfortably inside. Next, Adrienne carefully lit several strategically placed candles on the table, and then at different points on the perimeter of the circle she placed a number of stones, of various colors and sizes.
Kneeling in the center of the circle, Adrienne reached forward and put a flame to the contents of the miniature brazier that dominated the table. It flared up, green at first, and then the flames died down. Glowing yellow, the flames danced just above the edge of the pewter container, as Adrienne deftly painted a rune on either side of her right hand. This done, she thrust the painted hand into the yellow fire, muttering incantations while the fire licked her hand and fingers.
Adrienne closed here eyes briefly, and when she opened them they were entirely black, and empty.
Ian hadn't sensed her presence is the apartment, nor did her car parked out front worry him. He knew that Sara had used it after Adrienne had gone, and Sara was still at work. There was no way he could have seen Adrienne from his vantage point outside the window, since she was tucked in a corner behind the haphazardly piled bags and boxes that held her belongings.
So, for what seemed like the upteenth time in less that a week, Adrienne took Ian Nottingham by surprise. Once he had slipped inside through the window, Ian went to investigate the slight noise that came from the back of the long room, worried by the faint but distinct smell of smoke.
Fear was not something Ian Nottingham was very familiar with. However, when he found himself looking into the vacant inky depths of Adrienne's eyes, he was absolutely paralyzed by that very feeling. The peerless assassin hesitated even to breathe.
Whatever power inhabited the young woman had no interest in Ian. Still, he stood like stone as the terrifying figure moved past him and around the apartment in graceful, measured steps. Every so often she would pause to trace something in the air, and say a word. Whatever shape was traced hung glowing in the air for a few seconds before fading away; and all the words (none of which sounded familiar to Nottingham) were intoned in a voice that did not belong to Adrienne. It had a deep, musical sound to it; but it was barely human.
Nottingham had absolutely no idea how long he had spent frozen in the corner of Sara Pezzini's apartment. Even when Adrienne, or whatever it was, returned to the circle and the very last spark of yellow fire died, he stayed rooted to the spot.
That was how Adrienne saw him when she turned her head after the final traces of her spell dissipated; Standing stock still, with his eyes unnaturally wide. Very surprised and not at all happy to see him, Adrienne glared at Ian. It wasn't the sort of glare you would want to be on the receiving end of. Stalin would have quailed. Adrienne finally broke the silence.
"What the fuck are you doing here?! How long have you been standing there?!" Adrienne wasn't quite yelling, but her voice cracked several times. Ian found that although he could move again, he could not think of anything to say.
"Well go on, damn it! Answer the fucking question!" Ian remained silent, and by now he had his head bent in his characteristic manner.
"Yeah. Good Nottingham, just great. Put your tail between your legs, that's right. Ugh." Adrienne's caustic sarcasm reminded Ian of Sara. Quieter now, with more control, Adrienne's voice came at Ian again.
"Get the hell out of here. And close that damn window on your way out!" When he had gone Adrienne, cleaned away her alter and moved her materials for safekeeping. She suddenly felt very, very tired. Standing alone in the middle of the apartment, Adrienne looked around with the expression of a lost and confused child. Utterly drained by her day at work, her casting, and her outburst at Nottingham, she lay down own Sara's bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
