The question was not how to find Malik, it was how to persuade him to
become her ally. Endless plans raced across Nekomi's mind only to be
discarded. She stared out the window of the little car, watching the trees
go by.
The word from her spies was that Malik had already set up a new headquarters in Domino City. Only Lady Nekomi, Hazime, and Ferishi, Nekomi's favorite and most trustworthy female spy knew the directions and exact location of Malik's hideout. She had considered taking Ferishi along to the hideout, then thought against it. If she was going into danger, she wanted someone at her house to know exactly where to find her.
So she made the trip with no one but Hazime. She sometimes wondered if she liked it better that way. She only had to depend on one person, only had to look out for one person. Though Hazime was her bodyguard, so he was actually the one looking out for her.
Nekomi's hand ran gently along the handle of a knife, stuck into her boot. She was going to miss the comfort of the cold steel against her leg, but she couldn't very well walk in to talk with Malik, fully armed. He would take it as a sign that she didn't trust him. Which, of course, she didn't.
The car came to a rolling stop and Nekomi plucked the knife from it's sheath as Hazime came around to open to door.
"Here." She handed him the knife. As her body guard, he was armed to the teeth.
"Are you sure about this, My Lady?"
Her bright emerald eyes set their gaze fully on his gray-blue orbs. "If I weren't," she stated, breathing easily though her voice turned icy, "would we be here?"
Hazime fell silently a step behind her as she stalked off. His eyes probed the on coming darkness for any sign of an attacker or sentry. They entered a shabby looking building through a wooden door, virtually hidden in the shadows. If Lady Nekomi felt any sense of dread, she kept it to herself, and so Hazime, also, remained silent.
The door closed softly behind Hazime, enveloping them in total darkness. He might be nervous at not being able to see what was coming, but Nekomi felt right at home. She breathed a sigh of relief and embraced the cool darkness with open arms.
The moment she relaxed, Hazime tensed. There was something moving close by him. Something that could see them and most certainly was a threat, but they could not se. It was something with the total element of dark working to its advantage.
They turned down a slightly lighter corridor, the creature beside Hazime came into focus. He drew his knives, but the men, now surrounding them placed a knife to the Lady's throat.
He raised his arm, about to throw the knife at Nekomi's attacker when she spoke.
"Put your knives away, Hazime."
Grumbling, he did so, but hesitated for a moment. He would not disobey a direct order from his Mistress, but he was concerned firstly with her safety.
Her voice rang clearly in the shadows. "Tell your Master, we come in peace and seek an audience with him."
The man holding the knife nodding and the person to his left scurried off through the halls. The knife remained steadily poised against her throat. Just enough pressure was exerted for her to feel the sharp point, though not enough to break the skin.
Hazime shifted restlessly, but someone hit him forcefully in the back of the head. He hated waiting for things to just happen and would rather have taken charge of the situation. His Mistress remained in danger and he was being held, forced to watch her negotiate with a ruthless killer probably hundreds of feet away, by means of a messenger. He would have much preferred to watch this Malik character until he was sure of where he was dwelling at all times of day, then go straight to him.
The messenger returned and whispered something briefly to the man, who appeared to be some kind of captain. He brought his free hand up and Hazime felt cords wrap around his hands. He was being blindfolded and bound. For a moment the captain looked confused as to how to deal with the lady, for surely she was not dangerous, but not the less, someone to treat cautiously. Nekomi offered her hands in front of her in a gesture to imply both peace and permission to bind her, as well.
As they were led, Nekomi tried to keep track of the twists and turns as she was prodded and pulled towards, what she hoped to be, Malik.
They stopped suddenly, and were pushed to their knees. A mildly interested voice pierced the silence from a head of them. "Unbind them, you fools!"
Hurried hands did Malik's bidding, quickly and efficiently. Nekomi's eyes remained straight forward, in contact with Malik's own, but Hazime's examined the room they were now in closely.
A dais, not unlike Nekomi's own, was in the back center of the room. Pillars rose from either side, both by the door and the platform, holding up high ceilings. Men, dressed in purple robes still surrounded them.
Two men stood on the platform. One, virtually hidden in the shadows, appeared to be tall and muscular. His hood was covering his face, but Hazime knew that he witnessed all that was going on in the room. He was standing just behind the other man, alert. He was definitely Malik's own bodyguard. Hazime would recognize one of his own; attention shifting to all present, looking for danger, hand close to the deadly weapons that were ever close in case a threat to their Master should arise.
The other man stood, as though he had just risen from the great chair that stood just a pace behind him. His fingers played with a golden axe-shaped object, though his eyes studied the group. He had the air and appearance of a wealthy person. His skin was tinted slightly brown, as though he had been in the sun long enough to get a perfect tan. His blue- purple eyes were intelligent and cunning, though now they were filled with curiosity.
He, too, wore a long purple robe. Though beneath it, plainly visible, as the cape was pushed back over his shoulders, he wore a white button down shirt, cut high above his navel and long, comfortably tight black pants.
Nekomi rose, slowly, to her feet, her eyes never leaving Malik. When she had drawn to her full height, she extended one braceleted hand forward in a sweeping manner. She smiled, friendly, a sunk into a bow, though her eyes remained ever watchful, on Malik's own.
She spoke as she paused her movement, her posture still bent. "Hello, Malik Ishtar."
The word from her spies was that Malik had already set up a new headquarters in Domino City. Only Lady Nekomi, Hazime, and Ferishi, Nekomi's favorite and most trustworthy female spy knew the directions and exact location of Malik's hideout. She had considered taking Ferishi along to the hideout, then thought against it. If she was going into danger, she wanted someone at her house to know exactly where to find her.
So she made the trip with no one but Hazime. She sometimes wondered if she liked it better that way. She only had to depend on one person, only had to look out for one person. Though Hazime was her bodyguard, so he was actually the one looking out for her.
Nekomi's hand ran gently along the handle of a knife, stuck into her boot. She was going to miss the comfort of the cold steel against her leg, but she couldn't very well walk in to talk with Malik, fully armed. He would take it as a sign that she didn't trust him. Which, of course, she didn't.
The car came to a rolling stop and Nekomi plucked the knife from it's sheath as Hazime came around to open to door.
"Here." She handed him the knife. As her body guard, he was armed to the teeth.
"Are you sure about this, My Lady?"
Her bright emerald eyes set their gaze fully on his gray-blue orbs. "If I weren't," she stated, breathing easily though her voice turned icy, "would we be here?"
Hazime fell silently a step behind her as she stalked off. His eyes probed the on coming darkness for any sign of an attacker or sentry. They entered a shabby looking building through a wooden door, virtually hidden in the shadows. If Lady Nekomi felt any sense of dread, she kept it to herself, and so Hazime, also, remained silent.
The door closed softly behind Hazime, enveloping them in total darkness. He might be nervous at not being able to see what was coming, but Nekomi felt right at home. She breathed a sigh of relief and embraced the cool darkness with open arms.
The moment she relaxed, Hazime tensed. There was something moving close by him. Something that could see them and most certainly was a threat, but they could not se. It was something with the total element of dark working to its advantage.
They turned down a slightly lighter corridor, the creature beside Hazime came into focus. He drew his knives, but the men, now surrounding them placed a knife to the Lady's throat.
He raised his arm, about to throw the knife at Nekomi's attacker when she spoke.
"Put your knives away, Hazime."
Grumbling, he did so, but hesitated for a moment. He would not disobey a direct order from his Mistress, but he was concerned firstly with her safety.
Her voice rang clearly in the shadows. "Tell your Master, we come in peace and seek an audience with him."
The man holding the knife nodding and the person to his left scurried off through the halls. The knife remained steadily poised against her throat. Just enough pressure was exerted for her to feel the sharp point, though not enough to break the skin.
Hazime shifted restlessly, but someone hit him forcefully in the back of the head. He hated waiting for things to just happen and would rather have taken charge of the situation. His Mistress remained in danger and he was being held, forced to watch her negotiate with a ruthless killer probably hundreds of feet away, by means of a messenger. He would have much preferred to watch this Malik character until he was sure of where he was dwelling at all times of day, then go straight to him.
The messenger returned and whispered something briefly to the man, who appeared to be some kind of captain. He brought his free hand up and Hazime felt cords wrap around his hands. He was being blindfolded and bound. For a moment the captain looked confused as to how to deal with the lady, for surely she was not dangerous, but not the less, someone to treat cautiously. Nekomi offered her hands in front of her in a gesture to imply both peace and permission to bind her, as well.
As they were led, Nekomi tried to keep track of the twists and turns as she was prodded and pulled towards, what she hoped to be, Malik.
They stopped suddenly, and were pushed to their knees. A mildly interested voice pierced the silence from a head of them. "Unbind them, you fools!"
Hurried hands did Malik's bidding, quickly and efficiently. Nekomi's eyes remained straight forward, in contact with Malik's own, but Hazime's examined the room they were now in closely.
A dais, not unlike Nekomi's own, was in the back center of the room. Pillars rose from either side, both by the door and the platform, holding up high ceilings. Men, dressed in purple robes still surrounded them.
Two men stood on the platform. One, virtually hidden in the shadows, appeared to be tall and muscular. His hood was covering his face, but Hazime knew that he witnessed all that was going on in the room. He was standing just behind the other man, alert. He was definitely Malik's own bodyguard. Hazime would recognize one of his own; attention shifting to all present, looking for danger, hand close to the deadly weapons that were ever close in case a threat to their Master should arise.
The other man stood, as though he had just risen from the great chair that stood just a pace behind him. His fingers played with a golden axe-shaped object, though his eyes studied the group. He had the air and appearance of a wealthy person. His skin was tinted slightly brown, as though he had been in the sun long enough to get a perfect tan. His blue- purple eyes were intelligent and cunning, though now they were filled with curiosity.
He, too, wore a long purple robe. Though beneath it, plainly visible, as the cape was pushed back over his shoulders, he wore a white button down shirt, cut high above his navel and long, comfortably tight black pants.
Nekomi rose, slowly, to her feet, her eyes never leaving Malik. When she had drawn to her full height, she extended one braceleted hand forward in a sweeping manner. She smiled, friendly, a sunk into a bow, though her eyes remained ever watchful, on Malik's own.
She spoke as she paused her movement, her posture still bent. "Hello, Malik Ishtar."