Mieuret shuffled through the maps one last time and then grinned. "Nervous?" Jacques asked with a haughty air. Unlike his father, Pierre, Jacques LaMont was far from humble, and he couldn't be trusted too far. The only reason that he was even there was his skill as an assassin. Only a handful were better at it than him, and Mieuret was one of them.
"Of course," he replied quietly, "but how else can I earn my paycheck?" Folding up the floor plans, he discreetly tucked a slip of paper in his pocket. "Jacques, just get the target while I work the rest of the plan." Both men walked out into the sitting room and found Livia sitting in a chair, awaiting their arrival.
"I see that you both are ready," she said, not even bothering to turn and face them. "If you have nothing more to say, then I suggest that you leave. Before long, they'll be gone." Livia's face twisted in a wry smile as she listened to the fading sound of their footsteps. Now all had come together, and there was but one obstacle remaining. Yuumura Kirika could not be allowed to live, lest the entire plan collapse. Suddenly, she heard a soft thud and stood up to see who it was.
There stood a short young woman, her dark red hair hanging down her back in a long, thin braid. "What do you want?" Livia asked, looking at the thin sword that rested in the other woman's hand.
"Blood," she said, raising the dagger in one fluid motion, her entire figure coiled like a viper ready to strike. "I will not allow you to kill her, as your men know."
"But how?" Livia's eyes were wide with astonishment. The last time anyone had penetrated the defenses of House Ammoure had been the day of her mother's death. "How can it be?" The girl sprang forward and recovered with a somersault after Livia ducked and ran for the door. "You can't be human," she whispered, and hid around the corner.
Soon enough she heard footsteps, and took off again, pushing aside anyone who got in her way. "You can't escape the heart of death!" the girl shouted, and kept on running. Livia refused to stop before she came to the back door, where Mieuret and Jacques were talking as if nothing was happening. When they noticed the girl approaching, Jack took out his gun and started firing blindly. She smiled as she dodged the haphazard shots and came in for the kill, thrusting the sword through his chest. Mieuret darted out the door and ran out to his car, flooring the gas pedal. Even if she was fast on her feet, that girl couldn't catch a car. He would leave for Paris and then go to Switzerland to save his money. "See you and yours later, bitch," he said with a smirk as he left the Ammoure estate and left those high-strung idiots to get themselves killed.
Livia slide-tackled the other woman, and she found herself having to add an extra kick to avoid impaling herself upon the sword. Slash, thrust, duck, over again. It was difficult even to see the pattern with her opponent moving so fast. 'I can't die here,' she told herself angrily. 'Otherwise I won't be able to take what's mine.' Another bodyguard stepped forward and fired about three shots, all of which missed. "You can only avoid it for so long," the girl said, her eyes narrowing. "Death always takes its prey when the time comes, Livia Ammoure. Accept it, and maybe it won't be so painful." With a smile she took off and ran until there was no more running to be done. The other girl was gone and she had dropped her sword. Picking it up, Livia inspected the blade and saw, engraved on the hilt, the ancient likeness of Noir. Her eyes widened at the sight of such a thing. It could only mean that....
She cast the blade aside and looked around. Dead bodyguards lay in almost every room, and it sickened her even to look at them. "Mieuret?" she called hoarsely. "Mieuret?" She thought of the guards who were everywhere, and linked it to the night of her mother's death, when the silence had seemed deadly and eerie, the chill of it creeping up her spine. Shivering, she walked into her bedroom and gazed at her mother, the image of a loving parent. Livia's own honey-brown eyes stared at her seriously, and she saw her own dark hair on that older, more mature woman. "They died because of me, and they died fruitlessly," she told herself. "I can't escape death and they know it."
Livia left the picture where she had found it and left in her small, dark red sports car. Antonio would find her soon enough, but she didn't want the strange girl finding her again. "I can't stay," she told herself. "There's too much here...too many memories, too many sorrows, and too many deaths to even count them. All I know is that their lives were wasted in my service." She kept on driving toward Paris, where Antonio was still hospitalized. Mieuret was probably gone already, leaving her for a personal life. Subtle rage ebbed at her, though. So many people had betrayed her without hesitation. How could she trust anyone after this?
Mieuret stopped in Paris, at the apartment building and looked up at the room. No lights were on, so it would probably be easy enough. Stepping out of the car almost soundlessly, he walked in and looked at the directory. "Second floor," he muttered to himself. "Not too bad." With that, he dashed upstairs and picked the lock on the door and opened it, flinching when the hinges creaked. Thankfully, nobody stirred. As he approached the bed in the corner, Mieuret smirked while he aimed his gun. "Au revoir," he whispered, just before he heard the rustling of sheets.
"Bonjour a toi aussi, mon ami," said a voice from behind. Mieuret whipped around to see Mireille with her own gun raised.
"I always knew you were cold on the inside, Mireille," he said with a dry laugh. "Perhaps you shouldn't make so many allies." Mireille pulled the trigger without hesitation, but Mieuret dodged.
"Yes, Jean," she said. "I knew about this. Last night a client told me to get both Jacques LaMont and Jean Mieuret. This was too easy." Before she could finally kill him, Mireille had to duck to avoid a dagger. When she turned around, there was a redhead girl there, her face masked in shadows.
Jean dashed to the window and jumped down, rolling to save himself. Mireille, however, stood there waiting for the next move to be made. The redhead lunged and then dodged Mireille's bullet with a certain grace that she had only seen in Chloe and Kirika. Mireille moved to the side to dodge the dagger and fired another shot, hitting the girl's right arm. "You bitch," she said. "What do you want from me?" She didn't get an answer, just a fist that flew by her face, since the girl's fighting arm was injured.
"We'll continue this later, the girl said all of a sudden, hearing the doorbell ring. She slipped out through the window and Mireille heard a soft thud when she landed.
A neighbor stood in the open doorway, looking at the bulletholes in the furniture and the splintered part of the pool table. "What happened here?" he asked, concerned. "I heard shouting and some other noises, and-" Mireille closed the door, which was still intact. It was late, she was tired, and she didn't want to be bothered by neighbors. After she made sure that the door was locked and the window was shut, she crawled back into bed, dreaming of her days as a little girl.