In the countryside, that night, inside the quaint house that housed the diabolically dark house of pleasure, Azula was having one of hell of a tantrum. She stormed the halls, anger and bitterness coming off in waves. It's been a week since Chan was attacked, but that wasn't the only reason she was pissed off.
No, that traitor Lee had sprung Josh from his cell. The discovery had been made the day after, when she had gone over to the prison room to find it empty. Since then a black mood had enveloped her entire being, like the fires from Hell, burning ruthlessly and without stop. Whenever someone tried to calm her from this rage, she would backhand the little twerps and demand they leave her sight.
Even after a week like this, she knew there would be no stopping until she got revenge on those who wronged her. Azula knew somewhere in her mind that perhaps she was going a little overboard, but furiously she shoved that nagging voice to the back of her thoughts. With Lee and Josh gone, it was obvious where they were going: To Aang Windstorm.
That little brat was the bane of her existence, who needed to be dealt with as soon as was possible. Upon reaching her nearly bare rooms, Azula took the time the collect herself. Chan was awake and moving around, so now it was time to leave. Too many people knew about where this place was. Aang had known, of course, but he had not breathed a word about its location.
It struck her as odd. He could have easily led the police here, but according to Hahn before his capture, Aang had not told anyone, not even the police chief. Could his fear of this place and of her be that powerful, so much so that it made him keep his ungrateful mouth shut?
Possibly.
However, that fear could also drive someone to do something foolish. The boy had been a great addition, but like an overused toy, it needed to be taken out.
It was time to move out.
Leaving her old rooms, Azula to the elevator down into the garage unit, where several nondescript trucks and vans awaited. Her private car was idling near the door she had just exited. The plan was to split up, lay low for a couple of months, before rejoining at the rendezvous point. Each set would leave five minutes apart, going in different directions in case someone wold be following. Each license plate was forged, so no one would be able to locate them.
All of her guards that remain loyal to her as standing at attention and, though she couldn't hear them, she knew the prostitutes were in the vans, waiting to go. When she finally spoke, her voice echoed in the large chamber as if from a megaphone.
"It is time to leave this place. You all know what to do. Lay low and keep your eyes open for any trouble until the two month time is over. I will contact you over our secure network when the time has come for us to reunite."
They saluted her before going to their respective vehicles. She entered her own after the driver had opened the back door. Cream leather seats were smooth and comfortable, the windows tinted black, and a mini bar in the large space, located where the middle seats used to be. Opening the small fridge, Azula removed a bottle of red wine and a small glass from the bar before pouring herself a drink. With all the guards and their prisoners, it would take at least half an hour before all of them were gone. Once they were out, then it would be time to eliminate the base.
The car started and they were off, the trapdoor opening as they roared out. They left the main road and took the dirt trail where they were well-hidden until it was time. Like Azula had estimated, it took a half hour for everyone to be gone. On her radio, for the last time, Chan called her on it as his van was the last to leave. "We're good to go, Your Highness."
Azula smiled, her lips blood red like a vampire's as she took out the radio. "Thank you, Chan. We'll see you in two months."
"Be careful, Azula. Stay safe."
For a moment she was upset that he used her real name, but then the irritation melted away as something warm blossomed in her chest. He sounded like he...cared?
Pushing the thought away, Azula told the driver to get moving and pressed the destruct button on the radio, disabling it, then looked at her smartwatch. As they drove away from the scene, she brought up the commands, pressed a button, and waited.
A few seconds later, the house, beautiful and elegant in the countryside, erupted into flames.
When the police arrived, there would be nothing there. No clues, no hints, nothing to help them determine where the company had gone.
Pleased, Azula rested against the seat and sipped her wine like a queen. They had a lot of work to do, but her goal would keep her away for a while.
It was time to plot her revenge.
It was nearly time for Aang Windstorm to die.
(***)
Aang woke with a start. Looking around his dark room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his ears strained to catch any noises. There it was again: a gentle knock on his door. Looking at the clock, he was shocked to see it was a little after midnight. It had been another long day at school. It was finally the weekend and all he wanted was to sleep.
If someone was knocking at midnight on a Saturday morning, there must be a good reason.
Getting up, he padded over to his door and opened it, revealing Sokka in his gray sweats and black tank. He looked grim when he met Aang's eyes. "I think you should come see this, buddy." He gestured for Aang to follow. Nerves ratcheting up at the ominous tone his friend had, he followed Sokka until they reached the living room. The television was on, and when Aang saw what was displayed, his throat went desert dry.
It was a house in flames, and the headlines said where it was and what had caused this. The sound was low, but he could make out what the news-person was saying.
"The local police suspect arson as the cause. The house, located in Tooele, Utah, was bought by one Mrs. Betty Bert, an old local woman who had passed away twenty years ago. The house had been bought after her death, to someone named Azulon Wildfire."
There was more to the news, but at the name, Aang's mind went numb with shock. "You have got to be kidding me," he mumbled, sitting down.
Sokka muted the T.V. and was about to say something when the door to Hakoda's private office opened. The man came into the room and saw the boys up. When he looked at Aang, he gestured for him come over. "That picture you gave, Aang?" he asked and Aang nodded, heart in his throat. "We have a match."
Heart pounding loudly in the silent house, the two teenagers followed Hakoda into the room, the door closing behind him. Katara was there, eyes on the television mounted on the wall, which displayed the same news reel. She looked over and met his gaze. There was a question in her eyes to which he could not ignore.
Swallowing, Aang nodded. She covered her mouth before glaring at the screen as if that would do any good.
Hakoda was at the desk, his computer displaying something that Aang couldn't see. He went over, nervous and scared, to take a look. Before he could take a glance, Hakoda raised his hand. "Tell me, son," he said gently before jerking his head towards the news. "Is that the place?"
Taking a shaky breath, he then crossed his arms and whispered, "Yes."
Hakoda nodded. "They probably burned it to avoid detection. If this person is who I think it is, she's very clever."
Shaking, he came closer, saying, "I need to see it."
Katara came over, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You got this," she murmured in comfort.
Nodding, Aang went behind the desk and looked. The breath left him in a stunned whoosh. She was a little younger, about fourteen years old, but it was unmistakable. This was the Mistress. This was the woman who had tortured him and countless others in her chambers under that godforsaken house. He would never forget that face; even without a photographic memory, he would never forget those gold eyes and cold, devious smirk.
And her name was...
Azula Wildfire.
Named after her grandfather, Azulon.
He stumbled back, nauseous. "Oh, my God," he mumbled, covering his face. "That's her." Tears were in his eyes as they went back to the murderer. "That's the woman who raped me."
The siblings came over to him to give a group hug, soothing words whispered into his ears that he could barely hear over his anguish. They had finally found out who the Mistress was, but that wasn't the only reason why he was freaking out.
Hakoda turned to him, shutting off the screen until it was in sleep mode. "Does the name mean anything to you?"
Aang looked at him, his face pale and ashen. "She was Zuko's sister."
"Who's Zuko?" Sokka asked.
"My friend, back in Detroit. Azula was his little sister." He shook his head. "But that's impossible. It can't be the same person."
Katara seemed to understand what he was trying to say. "You said was," she stated. "Why?"
Aang met her eyes. "Because Azula Wildfire died."
There was silence as they processed his words. The news shocked everyone in the room, a silence that felt oppressive and dark like a thundercloud.
Finally Hakoda spoke. "Sit down, Aang, and tell us everything you can."
Sitting down heavily on one of the chairs, he began. "According to Zuko, Azula and their father had died in a fiery car crash when she was twelve. They found the bodies in the wreckage, burned beyond recognition. The forensics had to go by dental records to confirm them.
"Ozai Wildfire and his wife, Ursa, had split about three months before and she and Zuko came to Detroit to start fresh. My friend had been fourteen at the time."
He could practically see the wheels turning in his friends' heads. It didn't make any sense except for one thing. Ozai must have faked their deaths. Azula would have been too young at the time to think of it on her own. But at the same, it seemed like something she would do, because she loved playing with fire, and the Mistress, though older than the picture, had a temper like those of a dreadful dragon.
"They faked their deaths," Sokka muttered.
Aang nodded. "It seems that way. Ozai must have been the plotter at first, but somehow, it seemed to Azula that it was okay to do what she's been doing."
"And you're sure it's the same person and not someone who just looks like her?" Katara asked gently.
Shivering, he nodded. "To the last detail."
Hakoda took a deep breath before standing up. "Well, with her hideout in shambles, there's probably no use looking there. But we will find her, Aang. With the breath in my body, I promise we will do everything we can to stop this madwoman from harming another being. You have my word."
Aang nodded, tough he didn't feel very confident in the promise. If Azula had been hiding out this whole time, it seemed unlikely that she would be found so quickly after the burning. She was dangerous, cunning, and dark-minded. She only cared about power and dominance. Now that she was in hiding again, most likely plotting her revenge against him and the Rivers, he felt fearful for their lives.
Sokka stood up, grabbing his shoulder. "Come on, Aang, let's get something to drink. It might calm you down."
Katara smiled at him. "I can make that mint cocoa you like."
The idea of mint cocoa made him smile a bit. "Yeah, that sounds good."
"And then it's back to bed," Hakoda said. "I want you kids to rest up. Now that we know who this woman is, we're one step closer to finding her."
The trio left the room, heading to the kitchen. Katara made the cocoa for all of them and they sat at the table. He wanted to believe that the threat was over, but he knew for certain that trouble was coming. Azula would do everything she could to get her talons on him. It was only a matter of how and when. But one thing was for sure: A fight was coming, a fight for freedom or death.
Maybe Toph had been right. Maybe kidnapped people were nothing but trouble.
And he thought, 'Aw, fuck.'
Yep, life just got a little more disturbing.