Fate of a Fight

by Rolling With The Cahills

Before I start, I must say this is my first FanFic. Please, cut me some slack! Amy and Ian are ordered to slaughter each other, but what happens when they don't know its each other they are up against? Dan is missing, Natalie escapes from her father, Jonah, Alistar, Irina, Hamilton, Reagan, Madison, Ned, Ted, and Sinead come back for good or worse? Find out in Fate Of A Fight!

4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! I'm extremely sorry I haven't posted in like almost 4 months! I've had a really hard time the past few months. I was writing away and I was about a page in then I got the news that one of my best friends from a few years ago committed suicide and I just lost all motivation to write so I apologize for that. Anyways IceCreamGurl6455 is now the official BetaReader for this story! *cue angels singing* She's like a god and she makes my chapters 100000000x better and I'm extremely excited to work with her. As always I love feedback so please review! It makes me wanna write faster to be completely honest. okok go read this now and tell me what else you would want to see, well read about! Xoxo

Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 clues I am not that cool

Amy's POV

My golden wristwatch is crested with the letter M, and it sends a small shock through my body to slowly wake me up. I glimpse at my surroundings and smile. He did not suspect me. I smirk. I slowly tug my body from his grip and skip over to the love seat to grab my Louis Vuitton purse. I riffle through my purse until I find the syringe with a deadly poison inside. I glance back over at the handsome man snoozing peacefully on the couch. Guilt saturates my mind, and my stomach churns. Today's my birthday, I reason. I shouldn't be killing someone who seems so nice. He let a woman into his house; he let me borrow his expensive clothes. But common sense takes over. He wanted to kill me. He started this, and now I will end it, but before I do, I will get the truth out on why he wanted to harm me. I move across the carpet and gently plop myself down next to him. I lean towards him, and when I plummet the needle into his forearm, he jumps and twists his head until he is staring at my face.

"Answer my questions, and I won't put this poison into your vein." I sternly whisper into his ear, letting my lower lip tickle his ear. I feel Ian's body tense. I smile, but my face quickly returns to its normal inscrutable expression. I'm about to kill someone. I can't be smiling.

"What do you want to know?" Ian slyly asks, acting as if his life isn't at stake. I slowly wiggle the needle implanted in Ian's arm and his jaw tenses. My heart beats slightly faster, and I feel a teensy bit guilty for enjoying this.

"Why do you want to murder me?" I ask in a measured tone. Ian chuckles, and I slowly turn the knob that inhibits the poison from running through the small tube into Ian's arm. Ian instantly stops laughing. His jaw tightens, still staring straight into my eyes. It's like I am mesmerizing to him. I tighten the knob on the tube, and the poison is again contained.

"My father put me up to it. He believes you're the best spy in all the branches, and that you needed to be eliminated." Ian whispers coldly through clenched teeth. I chuckle slightly. Suddenly Ian grasps my wrist and twists it. I feel a burning, popping sensation in my wrist but keep my trademark stoic expression. I take my other hand and rip the knob off so the poison is free. Ian grunts in pain, but still keeps a firm grip on my wrist with one hand. With the other, Ian rips the needle out of his arm. I smirk knowing that he will pass out in about 4 minutes. I twist my arm, making Ian's wrist bend uncomfortably and causing him to release my wrist. I quickly kick Ian in the chest, sending him back into the wall. Ian hits the wall with a thud and slams his head into the drywall, which leaves a hole in the wall.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way, but at least I can spare you the embarrassment of explaining exactly how a girl beat you." I chuckle. Bending down pulling the pocket knife out of my knee high sock, I grab the pocket knife and flip it open so that the blade is in view. All of a sudden, the door bursts open.

"Ian? Ian, are you here?" Natalie yells, before stomping through the empty hallways in her Prada heels. My body tenses. I'm not killing another family member of his; this was a mission only meant for him. I quickly close the pocketknife and stuff it back into its makeshift sheath. My heart is racing as I sprint to an open window and dive through it.

"Ian! There you are." Natalie walks into the living room, glancing first at Ian on the marble floor, then at the gigantic flat-screen showing Gossip Girl. "Your favorite wine, a girl's purse, gossip girl, my heated blanket, and a hole in the wall? Did you just have a girl over that just beat the shit out of you?" Natalie grins widely with her perfectly bleached teeth before erupting into laughter. Ian runs his hand down his frustrated face and nods. "Well, don't let me interrupt. I know we were supposed to be on a plane going somewhere, but I forgot my favorite Ralph Lauren dress. I'm just leaving; give me two minutes and I'll be out of your hair. I have to say, I'm surprised; we all thought you still haven't gotten over Amy," Natalie snickers walking out of the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Ian groans, and then he blinks as he loses consciousness.

I drop down from the roof and hit the ground running. "Shit, my purse." I curse to myself as I hurry to my hotel, dressed in men's clothing. I'm barefoot, and it's snowing, and I can feel the frostbite slowly consuming my toes. I rush through another eighth of a mile until I reach the hotel. I scurry into the lobby and let out a sigh of relief, though my toes are almost frozen through. I glance around the room and realize that everyone is staring at me. The attention makes my face heat up. I may have overcome most of my shyness, but that didn't mean I would be headlining on Broadway or hosting my own talk show any time soon. I limp over to the elevator and press the up button, hissing through my teeth at the pain shooting up my arm from my wrist. I slowly cradle my possibly fractured wrist in my good hand and wait for the steel elevator doors to open. By the time I get into my suite, the snow on my feet has melted. I need a long bath. I cringe at the kitchen replaying the events of what happened here 4 years ago. I strut over to the fridge and grab a bottle of champagne.

"Happy birthday to me." I sigh, popping the cork, taking the bottle to my lips. I reach up and grab a wine glass from the cupboards before I make my way toward the glamorous master bedroom's bathroom to run a bubble bath.

Ian's POV

I awake with a massive headache, lying on the marble floor. I glance around to see the living room torn up as if a tornado had passed through. I slowly get up off the hard, marble floor and notice a Louis Vuitton purse on the Versace couch. That woman. She did this. I slowly limp over, grab the purse, and begin searching through it. I find keys to a Bugatti, a hotel brochure, and a passport with the name Hope Parchelli. I decide to track this woman down. She will pay for trying to destroy a Kabra. I take a sip of my wine and head out to my Lamborghini Veneno Roadste, still holding the woman's purse. I toss it into the passenger seat and take off towards the hotel she is staying at.

When I arrive the hotel, I am haunted by the looks of it. The memories of Amy breaking up with me here make my stomach twist uncomfortably. I still have no idea where that nasty skank that broke us up came from or how she even got into my suite. I shake off the disturbing thought and hop out of my Lamborghini. I toss the keys to the valet and watch his eyes gleam with happiness looking at my car. Peasant. I think to myself while rolling my Amber glistening eyes, smirking while walking into the hotel with the Louis Vuitton purse clutched in my hand. I stroll over to the front desk to a woman who can't be more older than 23. She glances up from her computer and takes a double take at my face as her face turns bright red.

"Hello love. I was wondering if a Hope Parchelli was staying here, by any chance?" I smile with my perfectly white teeth, charming her. The woman is speechless. Such a peasant, I think to myself. The woman choked on her words just nods.

"Su- sui-." The woman struggles to speak.

"Suite." I finish the word for her. "Thank you." I say in my silky British accent. I turn around on my heel and walk towards the elevator. I hear a sigh of relief come from behind me. Charming women is my specialty; it has been since I was 14. The elevator shoots up to the 75th floor. When the elevator doors open, I slowly walk out towards the Suite's doors. I clench my jaw tightly, grinding my teeth. I take a deep breathe in and twist the doorknob. I silently creep through the door and glance at the kitchen. I close my eyes, pained. I twist the snake ring on my middle finger almost obsessively, and I feel as if I'm going to be sick. But I can't. I am on a mission. I have a job to do, I silently tell myself, shaking off the bad thoughts and continuing to move silently through the suite. I hear water running and slowly descend into the master bedroom. The master bedroom is made up of only the finest furniture, from Versace bedding to Burberry chairs. I sneak forward towards the master bathroom doors, staring through to see the same blonde haired woman from my house. Tears are running down her face and her wrist is double its normal size. She places a ice pack gently brushing over her broken wrist and winces in pain. I rip the door open and Amy jumps. She has a Ralph Lauren bikini on.

"I believe you forgot this, Hope," I snicker, throwing her designer purse to the ground. Amy has a look of anger in her eyes.

"Yes, I did. Thank you so very much for returning it." Amy snaps, glaring sharply at me with her beautiful Jade eyes.

"Get…more dressed. You're coming with me, and if you don't do what I say, you will pay for it." I say, my voice so void of feeling that I barely recognized it. I turn on my heel and walk out of the bathroom slamming the fancy monogrammed door. I place my pointer and middle fingers to my temples and massage them; sitting down on the Versace bed. "Have no feelings, Ian. She is just a girl who wants to murder you," I whisper to myself. "Don't give in, Ian. You're a Kabra. Kabras do not give in," I continue.

Ten minutes later, Amy exits the bathroom in a white Ralph Lauren robe. She sighs and rolls her eyes when she detects me in the room.

"Upset to see me, love?" I snigger, staring her down. Amy just sighs, grabs her duffle bag, and scurries back into the bathroom. When she finally exits of the bathroom, Amy looks magnificent. She is wearing a black leather Ralph Lauren dress, a Black Onyx-Oval Pearl Cuff, and Jacoba Suede-Crystal Sandal heels with a Prada purse. I admire how the tight leather dress compliments her curves.

"Eyes up. I'm not a picture on a wall that you can stare at." Amy snaps, startling me. I smirk and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Grab your bags, my car is waiting downstairs." I let the words roll off my tongue. Amy shoots me a dirty look and scoops up her duffle bags in her good wrist. I dial in the number of my limo driver and order him to drive us to the airport. We awkwardly stand in the elegant elevator as it drops 75 floors down. "Ladies first," I say with fake grin. As she walks out of the elevator, I can't help but notice how beautiful her body moves when her hips swing.

"Eyes up," I hear from in front of me, knowing it was her. I quietly chuckle to myself and follow behind her into the back of the limo. While sitting unpleasantly in the back of the limousine, I decide to shoot Amy a quick 'Happy Birthday' text. I type "Amy Cahill" into my iPhone 6 text messaging and can't help but notice the emojis next to her name. My heart suddenly plummets when I realize I haven't had the heart to go back and delete them. Amy was, is, my one of my two weaknesses; the other, naturally, being my sister. I quickly type in the words "Happy 20th birthday! I hope it's great. :)", press "send," and quickly lock my phone. Amy's phone goes off only seconds later. The smile on Amy's face quickly fades when she sees who sent the message.

I smirk. "Something wrong, love?"

"N- no. I j- just, I'm fine." Amy fights to get the words out. She said she was fine, but her facial expressions say otherwise. Amy pulls her Prada purse into her lap and begins digging through it until she pulls out a small rectangle sheet of paper. A business card. From the looks of it, she is dialing a number from the card into her phone. She chucks the card back into her purse and rapidly taps away at the screen with her thumbs.

"We'll be arriving at the AirPort soon." The chauffeur hisses over his shoulder before rolling up the partition.

Amy's POV

I could feel Ian's gaze on me for over half the ride. I had just stared out the window and watched the passing buildings fly by one by one. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand. I slide it out from in between my legs and sharply inhale from the name on my screen. Ian Kabra. Just then Ian spoke.

"Something wrong, love?" He smirks at me then glances down at my phone then back up to my face. My heart sinks into what feels like acid burning it apart.

"N-no. I j- just, I'm fine." I spit the words out quickly feeling tears sting my eyes, threatening to drip down my cheeks. I look back at the screen of my phone and stare at Ian's text. I decide to reply with "Long time, no talk. Thank you." I send it quickly. Out of the corner of my jade eyes I spot my purse. An idea suddenly pops into my head. I snatch the purse and drag it onto my lap and examine the inside. I find Jenna's business card and quickly put the number into my phone and text her. Hopefully, I didn't wait too long to talk to her again. I lock my phone and place it gently back in my lap.

"We'll be arriving at the Air Port soon." The chauffeur says, rolling up the partition. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger. What am I going to do? Fiske is going to think I'm dead. Oh no. Fiske is going to think I've been murdered. I think to myself. I run my hand down my face. Everything will be all right. I tell myself. Everything will be okay.

"Hope. Hope, HOPE!" Ian yells in my face causing me to snap out of my daydream. I stare straight into his amber eyes and harden like a statue. "Come on, we're here. Behave or this gun I have, will go through your head." Ian threatens. I nod my head nervously. Ian takes my arm and drags me out of the limousine and grips my hand in his.

"Wh- What are yo- you doing?" I question struggling to pull my hand from his grip.

"We're going to pretend that we're married, so we can get both of us on the plane without a pat down." Ian snaps jerking my arm making me stop squirming. We walk in through the doors with the chauffeur carrying my luggage. Slowly, cautiously, carefully, and most importantly normally, we trot up to the front desk. The woman on the other side is rapidly typing into her computer keyboard. Ian clears his throat and the woman peeks up from her computer.

"May I help you two?" The woman takes glances at me, then at Ian and blushes.

"My wife and I were actually looking at a flight for first class to Beverly Hills, California." Ian says smoothly like nothing is sketchy; except for the fact that I'm his hostage.

"There is a flight actually for Beverly Hills, California that will take off in 15 minutes, but you probably wouldn't make it through security in time." The woman apologetically says frowning.

"If you can get us on that flight without security ma'am, I'd be willing to pay 1,000 dollars if you could make that happen." Ian slyly whispers leaning forward closer to her, making her face light up. The woman nods quickly and hands us two tickets to Beverly Hills, California. The woman stands up and steps out from behind her desk.

"Follow me, please." She shyly orders as we follow behind her like ducklings. As we patiently wait for the woman to sweet talk the security men, Ian breaks the silence between us.

"May I inform you now, if you pull any funny business, I won't hesitate to kill you." Ian murmurs softly but seriously with his silky British accent. I inhale sharply, and my body is stiff from fear. The woman from the desk twists her head towards us and motions her hand, as if to say, "It's okay! I got you through!" I believe I am in shock, but my mind cannot pick a reason why. I fought through the clue hunt at the age of 14; this is nothing compared to that…or at least so I thought. I find my courage, and quickly direct my feet towards the woman and Ian.

"Enjoy your flight to Beverly Hills, and congratulations on getting married!" She smiles brightly at the both of us. Ian and I trot rapidly through the hallway towards the plane. I was so focused on catching the plane that I didn't even notice Ian's hand clasping my wrist. As we flatten our feet on the plane, we both release a sigh of relief.

"Your seats are over here." A beautiful, tall, tan flight attendant gestures towards our luxurious first class seats. "My name is Jenna, I'm the flight attendant for first class. If you need anything, at all, just holler at me!" Jenna smiles with her perfectly white teeth. My heart plunges. Is this the Jenna I met 7 years ago? Jenna analyses Ian's ring. She nods and struts away towards other passengers. This is going to be a long plane ride.