Down the rabbit hole…
I don't own Mitch Rapp, Lydia Martin, Teen Wolf or American Assassin.
He was not what she expected. In her mind she had imagined someone built like the hulk, or a stoic older man in a suit with dead eyes. This guy was nothing like that. He was young, probably only a few years older than her, and while he wasn't built like the hulk she could see that he was definitely muscled under a somewhat slender build. She supposed that made him even better, he would be more flexible than the ones built like a truck but could hardly in any other direction than forward. His hair was a dark brown, a light stubble on his face as if he could care less what he looked like when he rolled out of bed, and why would he. A guy that gorgeous knew about it, no doubt. His greatest asset were his eyes though. Dark, dark pools that on the surface seemed blank, but where she could sense anger and something else.
Those eyes were lethal, and she decided right away to try not to stare into them for any long period of time.
Even from this distance, with her by the table and him by the door could she sense death clinging to him. It was a part of who he was she realized as he stepped closer when Irene beckoned him in. Much like her, it had become a part of him now.
"Mitch, this is Lydia Martin. Lydia, this is Mitch Rapp. From now he's your bodyguard, we'll see how long it's needed. Mitch, you've been briefed and handed the files?"
"Yes ma'm"
Stan Hurley entered and walked straight up to her, holding his hand out for her to take. She did so hesitantly, afraid of what she would sense. To her relief she only felt warm, and a feeling of mischief strangely enough.
"Miss Martin, pleased to have you here. We really appreciate you helping us with this, and in return we will keep you safe for as long as necessary".
"Call me Lydia"
She smiled and he smiled back.
"Then you must call me Stan"
She thought she could sense Mitch Rapp rolling his eyes, but Stan continued as if he hadn't noticed. Perhaps he was used to the attitude.
"Mitch here is young, but he is one of the best we have, and you will be safe with him. Isn't that right Rapp?"
"Of course, sir"
"Let's see about living arrangements then"
They were situated in a safehouse a few miles from the city. It was old and wonderful, and despite it's current owners being the CIA she could sense no death here, which made her think that 1, They had only bought the house recently, or 2. They were really good at their job.
She hoped it was the latter.
Mitch Rapp was serious about security, because as soon as they'd been dropped off he had checked every inch of the house. Doors, windows, corners… And after he'd checked them he started placing out weapons. She looked on in bewilderment and started unpacking her own bag, mostly consisting of books and clothes, she hadn't been able to take much else when they came for her. He was done before her and situated himself by the window, staring out into the night. He was so quiet that when he spoke she jumped, having not expected it.
"What are you exactly?"
"I'm a banshee" She said simply.
"So you can kill people with your voice?"
"I can, but I prefer not to. I mostly find dead bodies"
"How?"
"I'm led to them, it's hard to explain"
"You haven't worked with the CIA before"
It wasn't a question so she didn't answer and he continued.
"Why now?"
"You know why"
"I know why they want you, I want to know why you agreed"
She decided on a half truth, not trusting him enough to tell the whole story.
"The hunters are coming for me"
He nodded to indicate that he knew this.
"They kill people, innocent people that have done nothing wrong other than being born different and they need to be stopped. I couldn't stop them where I was or by myself, so…"
"CIA made you a deal"
Mitch concluded and she nodded, as he turned to face her.
"Yes. I help them with the codes, and they will help me stop the hunters"
"Why don't you just kill them? You can, can't you?"
"Maybe, but I don't want to. I don't want to kill them, just to stop them"
"Sometimes that's the only way"
She looked at him, letting her eyes linger a bit too long before quickly snapping her eyes back to his.
"I suppose it is when you get called in, isn't it?"
He almost smiled, she could see that.
"Last resort"
He shrugged, meaning himself.
"I told why I am here. Why are you?"
She used that tone, the one she used to have all the time when she wanted answers. Before she just how dark a place the world really was.
"You were there, I'm assigned to protect you"
"Yes, but why you? You're not a regular bodyguard"
At this his eyes sharpened and he slowly stalked closer to her. She tried to ignore the heat he gave of as she felt his eyes drill into hers. She continued, despite all the warning bills going off in her head.
"You're an assassin, not a bodyguard"
"That's right"
"So why you?"
He sat down on the table in front of her on the couch, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned forward, dark eyes holding hers. For a couple of seconds he seemed to read her, and she wondered how much he could see.
"What do you want to know?" He asked finally without breaking their gaze.
"Why you?"
He shook his head.
"No, ask me what you really want to know"
Her gaze sharpened, annoyed at how perceptive he really was.
"You're an assassin" He nodded "They could have had a regular bodyguard watching me, but they chose you, an assassin, not a bodyguard. It leads me to believe that the primary object here is not to protect me, it's to kill the target, and my safety is the secondary objective"
He watched her steadily for a minute and she fought to stay still and not give in to the desire to break his gaze. When he spoke, his voice was deep and serious.
"They chose me because yes, their hoping that an opportunity to kill your attacker will come up, and they want someone who will not hesitate in place if it does. While a bodyguard likely wouldn't either, he could be distracted…"
"By my safety" She interrupted.
He ignored that and continued.
"While someone like me likely won't let the opportunity pass, and I'm trained for it. That is what I do"
They were both quiet for a few seconds then she asked the question burning on her tongue.
"How did you know about the attack?"
He tilted his head, those dark eyes again sending heat through her.
"I know almost everything about you Lydia Martin"
He got up and went into the kitchen to start dinner, while she stayed on the couch.
Dinner was quiet, and she was surprised that he was actually a good cook. Of course, he probably lived alone she thought, and fast food wouldn't do well with his lifestyle. Afterwards she did the dishes while he checked the perimeter or something she thought. She saw him head out into the dark, and marveled that he didn't even flinch. He probably saw as well in the dark as in the light. She got ready for bed, and then hesitated, wondering what the sleeping arrangements were, they couldn't be expected to sleep in the same bed could they?
"Hey"
She jumped at the sound of his voice so close to her and whirled around.
"Jesus"
"Sorry"
He didn't look sorry. He looked amused if anything and she glared at him which only seemed to amuse him.
"That one is yours" He pointed to a door.
She swallowed.
"Where's yours?"
"That one"
The one next to hers, but closer to the door. That made sense she guessed.
"There's another door in connecting the rooms, so you can use that one as well if you have to"
She figured they didn't imagine the same thing when he said that.
"Okay, so goodnight"
She slid backwards, waving a little and was about to close the door when his hand reached out to stop it.
"Don't leave the house without me. Don't go anywhere without letting me know"
She bristled at his tone, but was much too tired to argue about fresh air.
"Fine"
He nodded.
"Goodnight"
