Chapter 6

AN: Honestly I thought it was time for a little bit of Aria/Miri. So I gave you kids some. Just a hint though. Or maybe not. This story seems to have a mind of its own. My original plotline was tossed out the window a couple of weeks ago.

"That must have been eventful," Bray announces after I finish telling him what transpired at Afterlife. "Why did you leave Kandros alive, though? She's a merc leader just like them."

A frustrated groan comes out of my chest. "She is the only one who has a conscience. Her forces aren't typical mercenaries. They're fiercely loyal, almost annoyingly so. Added to that, she's a great leader, as much as it pains me to admit. I can use her."

"That makes sense," Bray replies. "However strange that sounds coming from your mouth."

Sitting on the cherry wood desk in my office, I straighten out my white button-up. The top three buttons are undone, revealing my collar bone and some of my chest. I wear dark brown, baggy pants that are tucked into leather boots of an equal hue. My signature crimson sash is in its customary position around my waist.

I laugh, somewhat bitterly. "Yes, it is quite strange. Seeing as how I never really enjoyed the woman much anyway."

Someone bursts through the doorway.

"Aria," a man shouts. I belatedly realize it's Grizz. Another hulking brute of a man. He looks nearly identical to Bray, the same platinum blonde hair, matching blue eyes, and pronounced features. "A woman is here and demands to see you. I've managed to delay—"

Said woman violently pushed past Grizz, knocking him onto the marble floor. As I look at the man sprawled on the floor, I think of how that's quite a feat.

The woman, the infamous Miranda Lawson, stalks toward me. When she's within a foot of me, she knots her fists in my shirt. The gap between our faces is just the width of my finger. I feel her breath on my face, hot, heavy, and slight trace of mint. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bray and Grizz (Gods it's difficult to tell the difference) ready their pistols, aiming at Miranda's skull. I imperceptibly shake my head at them and they lower their weapons.

"Well, well," I scoff, my voice coming out fluidly. "Look who decided to show up. Why are you here, Miranda?"

Her cerulean eyes practically burned with an emotion I've seen many times in the City of the Wicked.

The Anadian accent was thick in her voice when she spoke. "I only came back to do one thing. Because if I don't do it, I won't be able to live with the regret."

"What's the world going to say when I call you out, Miranda?" I sarcastically inquire.

In response to my question, Miranda yanks me by my shirt closer to her. She locks her lips with mine and a searing heat burns through my chest. A feeling that I haven't felt in centuries. I ignore the sensation, abhorring how familiar and alien it is. I also ignore how our mouths fit ideally together and how an immense part of me doesn't appreciate the fact that Bray and Grizz are still in my office. That same part craves more when Miranda finally pulls away. I stare at the reflection of myself in her cobalt eyes, unsurprised at how hungry and animalistic I appear.

"Is that all?" My voice is deeper than usual, huskier. Something else I detest. This woman is only the second person in my long time of existing to make my body react this way.

Examining her features, I can see that her mind seems to agree with my own.

Leaning back against the desk, I inspect Miranda's outfit. It's nearly identical to the one that she wore the night she assaulted me near Nyreen's blacksmith shop. The only difference was that this toughened leather armor was whiter than a winter cloud. The various straps that overlay her chest piece still harbor numerous pouches. The stiff shoulder plate over her left shoulder holds two knife sheathes that are occupied. Her hands this time, however, are uncovered. I feel her soft skin when I remove her hands from my expensive shirt.

"I'll ask again," I tell her. "Is that all you're planning to do on this fine afternoon?"

Miranda then moves one of her smooth hands behind my neck and pulls me in for a second, more intense kiss. It's slower, more pronounced this time, like the assassin doesn't want this to end. The woman tastes like some dark fruit. Cliché, I understand, yet all too true. I refuse to let myself get lost in how Miranda's hand becomes knotted in my choppy hair. I leave my hands on the edge of the desk I'm situated on, gripping the wood tight enough to hear a quiet crack.

This seems to knock Miranda from the haze that envelopes her.

"Well, that was intense," Grizz announces as he clears his throat.

Miranda and I both turn our attention to them and forcefully snap, "Get out."

Grizz immediately departs the room. Bray, however, hesitates but a moment.

"Go, Bray," I tell him. "Obviously I can handle myself."

With that, he leaves, the door remaining open.

When Bray is gone, I simply stare at Miranda, secretly appalled by her recent actions. I don't let it show on my face, however. I keep my expression apathetic.

"I can honestly say that I was not anticipating that course of action from you," I state, subtly narrowing my eyes. "Especially with how you left last time. And the time before. And the time before that." I move away from the woman to sit behind my desk. I kick my boots up onto the hard surface, giving off an air of boredom. "Are you now going to leave in a fit, like the last few times? Or did you decide that your demand of me is ridiculous because you realize that I won't change for anyone?"

Miranda refuses to say anything, just turns around and walks toward the exit. I will have none of this nonsense. I will have answers for this erratic behavior. Summoning up some dark energy, I fling it at the door, which makes it shut soundly, locking the other woman in the room with me. Miranda's gaze whips back at me, her eyes slightly narrower with annoyance.

"You aren't leaving until you answer me, Miranda." I smirk at her. "I have all the time in the world. You do not. So I suggest you start talking."

I see her grinding her teeth down. Such an unhealthy habit. She now is attempting to stare me down, my guess being that she is trying to frighten me into letting her go. That only makes this more amusing for me, yet also more irritating. Miranda is a very strong woman, both emotionally and physically. She has a strikingly dominant personality, something that is made quite apparent with the way she crosses her arms over her perfectly shaped chest.

I give off an irritated sigh. "Being silent will get you nowhere. I always get what I want." I lace my fingers and rest them on my abdomen. "Go ahead and sit down. I can tell we'll be here for a good while."

Miranda stoically remains standing, much to my displeasure. Her blue eyes bore through me indignantly.

"You know what?" she finally says. "I hate you, every part of you. Yet it's impossible for me to get you out of my head. No, I don't think my request for you to aid people in need was ludicrous. I believe that you should still do that. I just…" Miranda rubs her eyes, as though this explanation is wearing her down. "Never mind. You won't care. You're the Pirate Queen of Varris, the city of the immoral and apathetic." She finally sits down, burying her head in her hands.

I feel a wave of sadness wash over me, something unexpected coming from me. I feel a very strange and very foreign urge to comfort this woman who sits across from me.

"I've been known to have rare moments of softness," I nearly whisper. "You can tell me. Although, I have a guess that the person who needs help is you." I get up from my chair and move around my desk to take up my position from earlier. The collar of my nearly unbuttoned shirt opens up further as I lean forward.

I hate how out of character I sound. It truly pisses me off.

"And who would agree to you saying that?" Miranda looks up at me, her eyes moister than usual. "Those that you've dug graves for? The ones you kill without a second thought because they challenge your authority?"

The only response I have to her is an arched eyebrow.

Miranda whips the knives out of her shoulder plate and launches them at me. I simply let them hit my chest, resounding with a solid thump. Thankfully they miss the fabric of my shirt, only going between my breasts.

"Do you enjoy doing that?" I snap. "Do you get some sick satisfaction from trying to ruin all of my clothing?"

A smug expression crosses Miranda's features.

"Yes, actually," she replies. "I do. It means that's one less expensive article of clothing you wear and the more you have to waste your endless pools of money."

I narrow my eyes, feeling a wolfish grin spread across my lips.

"Miss Lawson, I am now inclined to think, after you so passionately kissed me, that you're sincerely trying your best to get me naked. If you wanted that in the first place, you have but to ask. Not that I'm inclined to give that to you just yet." Though my body is screaming yes, logical thought process is calmly telling me no. I'm unclear on which course of action to follow so I simply do nothing.

Miranda's face begins to match the tapestry in my building.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Aria," she says all too quickly. "I don't even know how you got that idea in your head."

I roll my eyes. "Give me a break. I'm not stupid, Miranda. And I certainly know how to read expressions. The way your face looks right now shouts that you're guilty of my charges." I laugh a bit. "The great assassin sent by the White Star ends up wanting to have sex with her intended target. I'm sure that's unheard of."

A sudden knock on the door makes me rip my eyes away from Miranda's aesthetically appealing features.

"Who is it?" I practically bark.

"Nyreen. You told me that you wanted to see me this afternoon, before the sun sets."

Quietly I mutter, "You can go now, if you're itching to." I open up the door with a flick of my wrist.

Nyreen, previously standing behind the door, now walks in. She's clothed in her traditional blacksmith's apron and clothing. She has a dark blue, long sleeve shirt underneath her apron, the sleeves rolled up like usual. Her ebony and red-streaked hair was down in her face. I happen to notice from the corner of my eyes that Miranda is still sitting in her chair.

And so does Nyreen.

"So," Nyreen says, her voice not as warm and welcoming as usual. It's a bit more metallic this time, a trait that's uniquely hers. "This is the notorious Miranda Lawson. I finally get to meet the woman who haunts your thoughts, Aria? Oh, what a treat."

If I didn't think that I could use her, I would've killed her as she makes this comment.

Miranda looks at me now, with unbridled curiosity in her icy eyes. Eyes that, like Nyreen said, haunt most of my thoughts. As much as I hate to admit that.

As she starts to say something, I cut her off, telling her, "She doesn't know what she's saying. Stay here. Or go, it's your choice." I get off of the desk and walk toward Nyreen. When I near Miranda, I mutter in her ear, "Though I think we'd both be better off if you stayed."

I grab Nyreen by the arm and steer her out of the area and into the main room.

"What the fuck, Nyreen?" I snarl. "Why did you blurt that out? She does not need to know that I think about her. She's a fucking assassin and I am only her target. It doesn't matter if I think about her or not, or even if she kissed me—"

"She what?" Nyreen exclaims.

I quickly clamp my hand over her mouth.

"Not so loud!" I hiss. I slowly remove my hand. "Yes, she kissed me." I fold my arms across my chest. "She barged into my office when Bray and Grizz were with me. And she kissed me. Very passionately, I must say."

"I don't mean to sound like a giddy child eager for the latest bit of gossip, but… Do tell?"

"Gods, are you fucking kidding me? No, I will not give you any details!" I shake my head in disbelief. "For fuck's sake. I swear that you secretly are a child inside a grown woman's body."

Nyreen plops herself down on the plush, velvet couch.

"I'll be honest, Nyreen," I mutter. "And you know how seldom I am. I don't know what to do right now. Not regarding her."

"How about, for once, you decide to do what the large part of your mind is telling you? Because obviously this woman plagues your mind quite often."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means stop being so rude and apathetic toward her. I know that's extremely unordinary for you, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

I glare at Nyreen, feeling my eyes burn.

"Okay, okay! You don't have to—"

"I won't," I interrupt her.

"Do anything I tell you," she continues. "Even if she's tried to kill you, numerous times. I'm just saying that being cold to everyone gets you nowhere."

"I seem to be leading the strongest mercenary gang in the Land of Light and the Fringe."

"That's not what I mean," Nyreen says, exasperated. "Just fucking try with her. I see how you act around her."

I lower my voice threateningly and ask, "And how would that be?"

"I'm not going to tell you," she replies. "Just like you're not going to use my advice."

"Oh, get the hell out of my sight before I murder you."

"Why should I? We have work to take care of, such as organizing our new gang, the one you have me in charge of. Remember? Omega? We need to get that established before they act like chickens with their heads removed."

"Okay, fine." I rub my eyes. "First thing we need to do is somehow speak to the squad leaders and tell them the deal. And if they do not agree with my decision, kill them and replace them with someone who is more willing to listen to you and me. And yes, I'm putting you in charge of this entire operation. You are probably the only person I know that can get this done as cleanly and, dare I say it, ethically as possible."

"What should I do after I get the squad leaders to agree with me?" Nyreen asks.

"Have them burn off their previous insignias from their gangs and replace it with mine." I point at the symbol on the cloth around my waist.

"Is that all?"

"It's all that needs to be done right now. So go and do it."

Nyreen leaves shortly after that.

Now to deal with the gorgeous woman and assassin in my office. The one who plagues my thoughts. It's time to see how her mind works and see if we happen to share the same issues.

And also see how and why she needs my help.

AN: Questions, comments, concerns, and/or tips or requests? All are greatly appreciated though not required!