2015 cont.
"Sit here, Bianca," Lyn instructed, pushing her daughter down onto the bench as she walked over to Abe.
Bianca sat sullenly, paying no mind to what was going on with Abe and her mother, focusing all concentration on spinning the bracelet around her wrist. She pulled it one way then pushed it the other way, smiling as she remembered all the good times she'd shared with Danny. He was the kind of guy that could brighten up any situation. He was the only true friend she'd ever had. There was no keeping secrets from him, he knew anything and everything and a little bit more. And now he was gone. The one time he'd decided to stop wearing his lucky charm, the one time he had given it over to her, and his luck had transferred in the same fashion as the bracelet, dooming him with his own cruel fate while saving her when she had done practically nothing.
"I'm quite impressed with the skill of your daughter," Abe said to Lyn. "Michael tells me that she was the only one to survive Montlear's attacks. He said she handled herself accordingly, choosing all the right moments to act upon, and even discovering a means of escape when there was none. It seems despite your lack of training her she's extremely intuitive as she was the night of her recruitment. If we can develop and enhance those skills and knowledge from the minimal amount she knows now, she could possibly become one of the best assassins we've ever seen."
"If you're suggesting I do something about it, I don't have the time or tenacity to deal with that anymore," Lyn said, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm not as young as I used to be, Abe. I wouldn't be able to keep up."
"No, I know, I wasn't suggesting you train her. I was thinking more along the lines of Michael," Abe mused, stroking his chin. "He's the most advanced assassin we have around here, save for a few. Now that we lost Katerina, it's not as if he doesn't have time for Bianca. She'd be a fitting replacement."
Lyn frowned. "That's what worries me."
Abe shook his head. "It's not as if I'm going to send her abroad. Katerina's family was in France, Bianca's is here. She's not going anywhere. Michael's quite worldly, I'm sure she will be able to excel under his study."
"Bianca!" Lyn called out. She glanced up. "Sweetie, come here. Abe has something he wants you to do."
"I'm not going out again," Bianca said vehemently, not moving at all from the bench as she was told to.
"You needn't worry about Montlear, my dear. He's obviously more trouble than we first thought," Abe said. "I've sent someone a little more experienced after him now. But I want to talk to you about your training."
"I'm not training. I'm not doing this again."
Lyn cast a discouraging look towards Abe then walked back to her daughter and sat beside her, placing a reassuring arm across her shoulders.
"I don't think you're appreciating what we're doing here for you," Abe said as he walked closer towards her. "And you should lose that insolence before it gets you into any more trouble."
Bianca felt her mother rubbing her shoulder encouragingly. "Honey, you know this is the best thing for you. Knowing how to handle yourself in a dangerous situation is quite a benefit to have."
"Knowledge and skills are the best attributes an assassin can have," Abe agreed. Bianca closed her eyes and lowered her head. The word sounded so bitter coming from his lips. She hated it, and she hated the glee in which he took in using it. "I'm placing you in Michael's care. I trust you'll find him useful."
Bianca quickly looked up in astonishment. Of all the things he liked to deprive her of, of all the situations he thrust her into to claim his ideal grand prize, whatever it was he was aiming to frustrate her with and please himself, he was giving her the one and only thing she could truly want at this moment. The only thing that was physically possible at least. He was giving her more time with Michael. Albeit it may have been for his own Machiavellian purposes, but in effect he was allowing her to go through all this horror with the solitary Phoenix who was on her side.
"Thank you," she said, surprised to hear the words coming out of her mouth.
As if he was even surprised to hear her say those words, the dark man appeared quite humbled. Lyn smiled in a grateful way to see her daughter conceding on some point.
"That's better," Abe said, trying to regain some kind of authority.
"So when is she starting all this?" Lyn asked, as if Bianca wasn't sitting right beside her at all.
"No time like the present," Abe answered with a nod. "He'll probably be in the training room. I'm sure that's his second home, if not his first."
Abe watched Lyn as she got to her feet, stepping to the side and heading back to where he had been before. Bianca, still reluctant to go anywhere, had to be hauled to her feet and dragged the first few paces by her mother before she gave in and followed Abe herself.
They made their way up the corridor, turning a few bends before reaching another narrow hallway and stopping outside the third door. Abe gripped the handle in his hand and pushed the door open. Sure enough Michael was inside the large room. There were rounded, padded targets set up in various positions and heights across the floor. Michael stood in the centre of the room powering an energy ball into his hand, turning quickly and pitching it towards one of the targets. Before it had travelled an arms length from his body he powered up another, throwing his arm to the side and letting the ball glide from his palm towards the target in that direction, not even looking to see how accurate he was. Surveying the room, Bianca saw a great majority of the target pads had scorch marks on them - all dead centre. Michael did not miss.
"Michael!" Abe shouted. Michael stopped, lifting his gaze from the floor and to the side to inspect the new arrivals. "Give it ten," Abe instructed. Michael slowly lowered his hand but other that that remained unmoving. "You know Bianca, Lyn."
Michael didn't even batt an eyelid. There was no acknowledgement to the introduction, no sign of movement, not even a change of expression. Bianca shifted her stance, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Abe took a commanding step forward, ignoring the man's rudeness and lack of emotive reaction.
"I know you have some spare time on your hands now. Katerina was a detrimental loss to the coven. I would like you to take Bianca on in her steed. Under your training I'm certain she'll become a fine assassin."
Michael blinked, his gaze shifting over to her. Normally she would have felt exposed if someone was staring at her with that kind of intensity, but instead she found she was inspired with curiosity, looking over his face for a sign, wondering what thoughts lay beyond those eyes.
"You did, after all, say that she had potential," Abe added, as if to seal the argument.
Bianca saw the very edge of Michael's lip curve up slightly. Seemingly the small change in expression went unnoticed by the others, but Bianca could see the amusement reflected in his eyes. He was enjoying the fact that she and he were holding some secret over the big guns. She smiled back gratefully.
"If she's not too much trouble, I'm sure I could find a session or two," Michael said indifferently.
"Well I'll leave you to it," Abe said, pulling the door open. "Lyn."
Sweeping his hand towards the open doorway, Lyn began to walk towards him, glancing back over her shoulder at Bianca. Bianca folded her arms, watching as they both disappeared through the entryway, the door swinging closed behind them. Strolling over to Michael, she stopped in front of him. He still hadn't moved.
"Looks like you're stuck with me," she said, half-jokingly.
"I don't mind," Michael said, stepping to the side and walking away from her. She watched as he moved one of the padded targets aside.
"What first? Target practice?" she questioned, thinking they'd probably just do what he had been doing when they walked in.
"No," he said, picking up a small white towel from the bench, wiping first his face and then his arms with it. "First you learn the basics."
"And what are they?"
Her eyes widened as she saw him returning with a sharp dagger in his hand. She took an uneasy step back, not sure what he was doing. Roughly he grabbed her hand and lifted her arm into the air, sliding the cold steel against her skin so that it was under Danny's cloth bracelet. With one tug, the bracelet snapped in two and fluttered to the ground.
"First rule, you don't wear things that can catch on something. No jewellery, no watches, nothing that can catch or be caught. If it even picks up the slightest piece of thread, or mysteriously falls apart, it could leave something that leads the cops back to our coven. Prime rule of witchery, you don't expose magic to the public. Got it?"
Feebly she nodded, still stunned at what he had done. That was Danny's bracelet, his good luck bracelet. He'd always worn it. Michael had no qualms about her wearing it on the last mission. How could this be a rule? Why was he only telling her now?
"Secondly, don't leave your hair out." He raised his hands. She saw they were empty now, but she still flinched when he touched her head, brushing her hair back with his fingers and twirling it around into a ponytail. She felt a bit odd but somehow she didn't mind. He was standing awfully close to her, and strangely what he was doing felt nice. Holding the ponytail with one hand, he pulled back the other and showed her a short stick, sharpened at one end. It looked like a thick kind of chopstick but Bianca knew people wore them in their hair. She had seen it one time when her mother had taken her to Chinatown. "Keep it short, or tied back. Katerina often had one of these to tie her hair with, it doubled as a weapon. But I wouldn't recommend it for you just yet. You're not that advanced." Putting her hair up, he drew back. "Just make sure you brush it regularly and keep it up. We don't want you leaving any trace evidence around to identify you. The key to being a good assassin is to be silent and deadly, and to leave as if nothing had been disturbed. Only people who need us know about us. Your job is to earn that bounty in the most invisible way that you can."
"But I…" Bianca began softly. What was she getting herself into? She didn't want to do this. But she could see she had lost Michael's attention as he once again walked away from her to another part of the room.
"Third rule - knowledge is fundamental. Know your target. Know their movements. Study them enough to have their schedules, their powers, their habits, and any other necessary information stored up here for when you need it." He turned back to look at her, tapping the side of his head. "You can't carry books around with you. You need to keep a clear mind. You need to focus. You need to learn everything by heart and use it when necessary. You'll have to learn the physical and the mental. The emotional you'll adapt to yourself."
"This isn't a continual thing though, right?" she asked. He didn't answer. Desperation rose in her at his silence. "Right? I can just walk away from this."
"You don't walk away from this," Michael said harshly as he steamed back towards her. "You were born into this. You have no choice. This," he said, taking her left arm and pulling it out towards him, brushing his thumb across the birthmark, "is the reason you are here. Rule four – you respect the Phoenix coven and obey all orders, otherwise you end up like your father."
Bianca's eyes darkened. "What do you know about my father?"
"I know he valued himself over anyone else, and that his independence brought him down."
"You're a liar," Bianca seethed, yanking her arm away, hurt to hear someone disgrace a man so special to her.
"You're living the lie, Bianca. Everything is not as you believe. Your father wasn't killed by just any randomised witch, warlock or demon. He was killed by his own kind. The Phoenix killed him."
"You murderer! You fucking bastard!" Bianca shouted, lashing out at him with her hands, hitting him in the chest. Despite the power and force of her anger improving her strength, Michael was fairly undeterred, stepping back slightly to keep his balance, reaching forward and seizing her wrists as she went to attack him again, gripping them firmly in his hands to keep her from doing any further damage as he brought her in closer, giving her a stone-cold uncaring look as the tears streaked her face. "You killed my father!"
"Think about it, Bianca. How many years have passed since that day? Do you really think I could have had anything to do with it?" He loosened his grip slightly, looking at her sternly. "Use that. You'll need it. But don't do that again."
Choking on her tears she felt him release her arms as he walked away from her. Absently she lifted a hand and brushed the back along her cheek as she watched him.
"Rule five – look after your hands. They're the best weapons you have. You have to prepare for any situation; you can't rely on weapons or powers all the time. If it comes down to hand to hand combat there are a few things you should know." He sat on the bench, clasping his hands as he stared back at her. Sniffling, Bianca wiped the tears from her eyes. "There are several places on the human body that you should target. The nose is one of the most vulnerable areas to aim for. Strike along the bridge with the knife edge of your hand," he instructed, lifting his own hand and using the opposite finger to run it down the side and show her what he meant, "to cause sharp pain, temporary blindness, breakage, and if your blow is hard enough you may even be able to kill someone that way." He tilted his hand back. "A more efficient way is to use the heel of your hand. Push it in an upwards motion to shove the bone into the brain. Death will be instantaneous."
"Anything else?" she asked softly, looking down at the floor, wanting nothing more than to leave right this minute, her stomach turning at the revulsion of it all.
"The ears. Approach your target from behind, cup your hands and clap them together violently at the sides of the head. The air pressure will be disturbed, and the vibrations will cause enough damage to burst the eardrums. Once that's done, internal bleeding will start, and death will be imminent."
"Weaponless, powerless," Bianca mulled over the words in her mind. She didn't have the physical strength to do any of the things he was talking about.
"If you're striking somewhere other than the head, try a lower point such as the kidneys. There's a large nerve that branches off to the spinal cord, surfacing against the skin around the kidney area. Again, the knife edge of your hand can come in handy if you connect it at that point." Michael noticed her distance. "Bianca, are you listening?"
"Mmm," she mumbled in response.
"You need to know this. This isn't a game, Bianca. It's real and it's dangerous. You do what you do to survive, and you need both the skill and the knowledge if you want to succeed. I'm not wasting my time on someone who doesn't want to reach her full potential."
"I'm not…"
"Not what? A killer? You're no better than the rest of us, Bianca. Stop denying who you really are. You already have blood on your hands, else you wouldn't be here," he said. She lifted her head and looked towards him, knowing he was right. "You just have to stick with me, that's all you've got to do. The Phoenix frown upon those who try to break away. Do things on our terms and you won't be cancelled like your father."
"There's no end to this," she said softly, realising now that she was trapped. There was no way out of this lifestyle.
"No," Michael answered shortly. Silence filled the room as the thought settled. "So what do you know of your powers?"
"I can disappear and move from one place to another quickly."
"Shimmering?" he asked. She nodded. "Come here."
Bianca began to walk across the room but stopped mid-stride when she saw him tilt his head. Suddenly she understood what he had meant. Taking another step she shimmered out and reappeared directly in front of Michael.
"Good," he said, reaching out and taking her hand, turning her palm in his fingers so it faced up. "Do you know how to create an energy ball?" She shrugged. "Focus your mind. Picture it in your hand – spherical, powerful, full of energy. Charge it with your emotions." He saw something flicker in her hand. "That's it. Just a little bit more."
The spark broadened, dividing and circling upwards into a rounded shape. It crackled and pulsed like white and blue fire.
"That's right?" she asked timidly.
"That's right. Now aim for that target over there and we'll see how good your hand-eye coordination is."
Bianca turned to look at the target, surveying it, wanting the shot to be perfect. She glanced down at the energy ball in her palm, imagining it was a baseball or some other small ball she'd had experience with throwing; only she knew this felt much lighter, more transparent like air, and something that seemed to move of its own accord. Drawing her hand back she pitched it at the target, watching as it scorched one of the outer rings.
"Needs some practice, but we'll work on it. So long as you can shimmer and conjure those, then you know the basics."
"Bianca?" Kate called, peering into the room. Seeing her standing near the back with Michael, she smiled and stepped further inside, brushing her hands on the legs of her pants. "Hi Michael."
"Kate," he said with a nod.
"Good to see you. I've just come to pick up Bianca, take her back to my place." She combed her hair behind her ears as she walked closer to them, stopping short of reaching them and offering her hand to her niece. "C'mon Bianca."
"He did care about someone else you know. He cared about me," Bianca said, turning to look at Michael as she stepped towards her aunt. "He cared enough to save me. He's not a traitor."
"If that's what you need to believe to do this, then do so," Michael said. "When you go out there, you tell yourself whoever you're targeting that they killed your father. It'll be enough to spur you on."
"Bianca," Kate said, taking her hand this time, looking disapprovingly at Michael. "Let's go."
Bianca stared at Michael as Kate pulled her away. As they neared the door, he turned and busied himself by removing his shoes and packing them into a bag with the loose white towels he had earlier discarded. Bianca's sneakers crunched over the gravel that lay about the outside of the main headquarters as she followed her aunt to her car. Kate took great strides across the ground, jingling the car keys in her hand as she walked. Bianca picked up her pace to keep up.
"Have you known him long?" she asked.
"Who?" Kate returned.
"Michael."
"A little while."
"What's he like?"
"Exactly as he seems." Kate stopped by the car door, slipping the keys into the lock and turning it. She opened up the door, leaning on the edge as she watched Bianca walk around to the other side. "He's quite a skilful instructor. You're lucky to have him. Despite some of his tactfully bad advice, he does know what he's doing, and he's good at it. You'll have to trust him."
"I'll try," Bianca said, climbing into the passenger seat. Kate got in the driver's side and started up the engine.
"I think my fridge is empty," Kate said absently. "We'll have to pick up something on the way home. So, your choice, you direct, I'll drive."
Bianca smiled, switching on the radio. She loved that about her Aunt Kate, that everything was so free about her. She could do anything she wanted, go anywhere she pleased, and Bianca thought that perhaps if she became as good a Phoenix as her, life would be better after all.