I, ASSASSIN
Chapter Twenty-One
Remy couldn't remember what the name of the infection that Doctor Harveaux had told him he had. It was something that was known to be associated with certain types of Elk in the area they had been hunting in, and Harveaux recommended two different types of antibiotics and plenty of bed rest.
Three days in, and Remy didn't feel all that much better; the fever seemed to have passed for the most part but his bones ached, his head hurt and he was tired regardless of how many hours he slept. Remy half suspected the reason he was so tired had very little to do with the infection...this...zoonosis thing. That it was more to do with the fact he was attempting to for the most part sleep with one eye open.
When he did sleep, his dreams were more like nightmares. In one horrific dream, he swam through a river of blood, aware of how warm it felt, how very salty it tasted when it splattered into his mouth. In another dream, he was killing pigs in the slaughterhouse again, only it seemed to go on forever, no end to it as the Devil he'd seen in the previous dream stood banging his cane on the floor demanding 'do it again!' over and over.
But the most horrific nightmare that kept repeating itself was that of the corpse in the woods, always in varying states of decay, various animals coming to feast. This time, pigs were there devouring the flesh of that corpse, even though logically there was no place for pigs in the woods.
After five days of bed rest, Remy didn't feel all that much better, but was growing tired of hiding in his room, and beginning to fear that his idleness wasn't going to be tolerated much longer.
So on the sixth morning of his illness, he dragged himself out of bed and went to shower, still not feeling quite right.
When he returned from the en-suite bathroom, he found Aceline in his room placing the folding lap table upon the bed. Holding his towel a little more tightly around his waist, he wandered over, gazing down at the display of food.
" You shouldn't be out of bed, " Aceline admonished, her brown eyes squinting, " you need rest. "
"Had plenty," he remarked in English, he gazed down at the plate, bacon and eggs again. He had a feeling that bacon was from the pig he'd killed...or at least from one of them. " Can't spend forever in bed, " he added in French, he grabbed a piece of toast from the side plate and he sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't care if the housekeeper saw him half-naked. The woman was in her late fifties and Remy had the distinct feeling that in her day, she'd been an incredibly attractive woman although grey hair, wrinkles and body-fat had begun to mask it; Remy was sure that in her hayday she'd probably seen more than a few young men half-naked.
" You've barely eaten for days, " worried the woman, glancing down at him as he picked a small piece off of the toast and chewed.
He didn't suppose he could explain to her that he had started to feel an aversion to meat as far back as the first animal – the Elk – he'd killed. Now he couldn't even stomach the idea of touching meat let alone consider actually putting any of it in his mouth. He felt thoroughly embarrassed by it, and he wished there were a way to hide his disgust but it was impossible. For five days, they'd been trying to feed him meat, mostly all pork, and for five days he'd been struggling to try and figure out what to do with it.
He'd tried flushing some of it down the toilet but it simply hadn't gone away, it had sat there mocking him until he'd had to drag it back out with the toilet brush and throw it in the garbage can.
" I think I'm sick of pork, " Remy admitted quietly, turning his eyes away from the thick strips of bacon which once upon a time might have been impossible to turn down.
" Monsieur Boudreaux says pork is on the menu for the next few weeks, " Aceline stated, her eyes pointed at the plate.
Remy swallowed hard, he hadn't been sick since the day he'd thrown up over the dining table, but it any time he looked at meat he began to feel queasy. He was almost certain if he put a single bite into his mouth he would throw up, he hadn't dared to try. He wondered how difficult it would be at this stage in his life to switch to vegetarianism.
" Think I'm going off meat right now, had so much of it lately, " he admitted. He didn't need to specify that the lot of meat he'd had was more to do with the mass amounts of meat he'd created by slaughtering poor defenceless animals.
" You thinkin' of becoming a vegetarian? I don't know how to cook many vegetarian meals, just so you know, "
Remy would have laughed at himself just a month ago if someone had suggested the idea to him that he become a vegetarian willingly. Right now, there didn't feel to be a choice in the matter. He couldn't stomach the idea of meat.
" Aceline...what's that type of vegetarianism thing called when someone eats fish but not any other type of meat? " he asked trying to sound casual.
" Pescetarian I think, " she responded, " You thinking of that? "
" Bella Donna always raves about your Blackened Catfish, " Remy admitted, " But to be fair, probably no one do Blackened Catfish better than the fry cook at the Grill Bar south of the parish. "
Aceline looked immediately insulted, " That catfish is as dry as old bones on a desert plain. Isn't a person near here does catfish as well as I do. "
" Well, I wouldn't know since you haven't ever made it since I got here, " Remy shrugged. He hoped the manipulation would work. Aceline was a proud woman, and she wasn't about to be insulted by having her food compared to the sub-par slop the Grill Bar served...she'd want the chance to prove her case. At least Remy hoped so.
Aceline frowned a little, " Eat that bacon and eggs and then get back into bed, " she commanded, " And put on some pyjamas for the love of God, I can see your pork. "
Remy glanced down at his towel, it had slipped just a little. He gave a laugh as Aceline disappeared off out of the room, closing the door behind her.
He ate the scrambled eggs but none of the bacon, hastily drank the orange juice and finished the toast and then dressed. He headed downstairs still feeling tired and a little shaky, as he approached the kitchen, he heard Aceline speaking to Marius.
" I've cooked pork every night this week so far, sir, but I'm running out of things to do with it, and so much of it is going to waste. " said Aceline, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
" Look, it's what my father asked for. "
" I know that, and I have followed the instruction to the letter, " Aceline responded.
" Is Remy eating the pork? " asked Marius, his voice serious. Remy hovered in the hall, listening closely, waiting for Aceline to spill the beans.
" Of course. Apart from the fat, that is. "
Remy was surprised that Aceline had lied for him; he was almost certain it would mean the end of her job if she was caught.
Aceline continued, " And I know that pork was requested again tonight, but...to be frank, Madame St. Dubois keeps complaining about being bored with every meal I put down to her. She always says it's dry and tasteless, or too fattening, "
Marius gave a sigh, Remy had the distinct impression that Marius was getting as sick of Adele St. Dubois as Aceline was.
" It may be advisable to change the menu a little in the interest of keeping her happy. And besides, Bella Donna has been blue all week, she may appreciate her favourite meal. "
After a long pause, Marius answered, " She tell you why she's been so quiet? "
" I asked but she wouldn't say. But if you ask me, I think she's in love, "
Remy winced, he didn't need reminding of how he'd practically stomped on the girl's heart.
" I didn't ask you, " Marius responded, " Make the catfish tonight, I'll deal with any backlash about the pork, " he promised.
Remy waited for a good moment before entering the kitchen with the tray and his leftovers. While in the hall, he made sure to hide the bacon under the plate out of Marius's sight.
"You finally on the mend?" Marius asked, raising his eyes from the breakfast table to Remy.
As he put the tray on the table, he lifted the plate a little out of Marius's view to show Aceline where the bacon was, and she gave a sly nod of understanding.
"Wish I was," Remy confessed, he came to sit at the table, "I'm exhausted, I'm sore...and I ain't ever been in bed that long since I spent a weekend with two lesbians in Vegas."
Marius gave a small frown, "well since you're up, you may as well continue with your training today," he turned the page of his newspaper over, eyes sweeping across the articles.
"What's scheduled?" Remy asked, he accepted a cup of coffee from Aceline. He glanced over at Aceline feeling slightly unsure. He always wondered just how much she really understood who these people were and what they did. Did she know they were training him to be a killer?
She probably knows everythin' that goes on and just plays dumb and keeps schtum to avoid the backlash, Remy decided.
"Well," said Marius, he paused, "I was going to be helping Bella Donna with her long-ranged weaponry..."
Remy didn't like the idea of the long ranged weaponry any more than he did the melee weaponry. But it seemed Marius had a different idea for today. "But...?"
"But I have something else in mind," Marius decided, he closed the newspaper, "meet me at the car in about half an hour," he looked at his watch briefly, "and be prepared for a tough day."
Remy didn't know what being prepared for a tough day entailed, really, except from smoking a couple of cigarettes and trying to mentally ready himself for whatever may come. When he went to the back of the house where the cars were parked, he was disappointed to spy Bella Donna sitting on the hood of her father's Jeep Wrangler, her hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail, her clothes loose and creased. She was playing around with her gun, Remy wasn't sure if it was meant to be intimidating, but to him it sure was.
"Belle," he said quietly.
He hadn't realised she would be coming to training; when her father had said he had been planning to train her in long-ranged weapon and had decided on something else, Remy had stupidly assumed he'd changed his mind about training her and had decided to leave her to her own devices for the day. No such luck.
The tension between them was thick; she looked at him, her eyes hurt, her face hard, lips pursed. She didn't reply to him, she went back to playing with her gun.
"You...know where we're goin'?" Remy asked, trying to me civil.
"I don't know," Bella Donna replied, she raised her gun, lining up the sight, "Maybe cherry pickin'."
"Cherry Pickin'?" Remy blinked.
"Oh, you know..." she took the safety off, "so you can find a new one to pop."
As she said 'pop' she fired the gun and the blast echoed loudly, leaving his ears ringing. A bird – dropped from the sky and landed in front of his feet, a few feathers dancing in the breeze after it.
Remy looked down at the dead bird, feeling quite disturbed by the eerie precision of her shot. The thing lay there dead, it was a caracara of some description, he wasn't too familiar with birds. The thing had done no wrong to her though, and he hated that she'd killed it for no reason, without even being told to.
"That was unnecessary," he admitted uneasily.
"Says who?" she slipped down from the hood of the Jeep, "you?"
"Assassins are meant to kill on command, not for pleasure," he responded.
"You think I killed it for pleasure?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "you must have a pretty fucked up concept of pleasure then, Remy LeBeau," she put the safety on her gun.
"My concept of pleasure is fine," Remy muttered, looking away from her. He hated himself for still wanting her, for still caring for her despite everything else she had done.
"What the hell you shootin' at now?" came the aggravated voice of Marius as he appeared out the back door.
"She killed a bird," Remy blurted, gesturing to his feet.
Marius bent down and examined the bird, "Belle...what I say about killin' animals on the property?"
"Don't?" she asked lazily.
Marius stared down at the bird, "why you shoot it?"
"You said I needed to practice my aim on movin' targets," she pointed out, the gun swung in Marius's direction.
"For christ's sake," Marius frowned, "put the gun away and get in the car."
While Marius went to pick the bird up and dispose of it, Bella Donna climbed into the passengers seat, Remy saw that rather bored look on her face. She wasn't in the mood for this today. To be fair, neither was he, but he couldn't lay in bed forever with the feeling the Assassins might be planning to get rid of him if he didn't start living up to the potential they were convinced he would.
Terrific, thought Remy. I'm gonna be stuck in the back seat of a car with a pair of fucking psychopaths listenin' to Taylor Swift again.
Remy climbed into the back seat, sighing inwardly; the back of the car still smelled like their last hunting trip. The smell of sweat, earth, and guns. There was also the smell of death hanging around; no badly decaying carcasses hadn't come remotely close to this car, however. No, the smell was all in Remy's head.
A few moments later Marius returned after throwing a few items in the back of the Jeep. He climbed into the drivers seat and soon they were pulling out onto the main road.
"Has Julien been in touch?" Bella Donna asked after half an hour of driving, her sitting picking tracks on the CD player, a Jewel album with rather depressing songs of love seemed to be her favourite choice for today.
"You know he ain't," Marius answered, "And he ain't allowed to. And you better not go tryin' to contact him."
"Why would I?" Bella Donna asked, "He's a pain in the ass."
"He's still your brother."
Remy listened as they argued about him in the front, all but seeming to forget he was even there in the back at all. Bella Donna had no qualms about complaining of her older brother's shortcomings.
"He's useless," Bella Donna muttered, "I don't know how he even got through the trainin'."
Marius grunted, but said nothing; Remy could tell he was biting his tongue and that he was attempting to not snap at his daughter.
"How many times has he had to have a Fixer rush into save his damn ass for his last trials?" Bella Donna demanded.
"Shut up," Marius warned his daughter angrily. The sudden sharpness of his tone told Remy she had said something she wasn't supposed to say.
Remy leaned forward a little curiously, "what's a Fixer?" he asked.
Marius and Bella Donna were silent, as if they were considering whether it was worth answering or not.
"A Fixer-" began Bella Donna, almost as if in retaliation to her father's attitude towards her.
"Keep quiet," snapped Marius immediately.
"He'll have to know eventually, won't he?" Bella Donna pointed out, "you can't just invite him into our Guild and then keep all the facts from him."
"There's things he's not ready to know-"
Bella Donna ignored her father's request, she leaned around her seat, "A fixer-"
"I'll answer the questions," Marius warned, his voice seemed to grind in his throat. "A Fixer is a former Assassin."
"Former?"
"They buy themselves out of the guild and retire with the rest of their earnings."
"I thought there weren't no way out of the guild," Remy responded.
"There isn't," Marius answered, "once you're a member, you're in for life."
"But you said they bought their way out..."
"They buy their way out, but only partly," Marius explained, "they get to retire to safe locations that's picked for them, but they're always under the thumb. In return for our protection, they provide services..."
"They...fix things?" Remy assumed from the name.
"Right. Botched up assassinations, takin' out witnesses, findin' leftover evidence, bribin' police officials, getting into any criminal database and changing entries...you name it, anything that can implicate us, they find it and they fix it," Marius explained, "Any time you read about a huge murder case in court where the evidence suddenly vanished or a star witness died under mysterious circumstances...that's been a fixer."
"I see," Remy said.
"Fixers are usually reserved for special cases," Marius went on.
"Like...the son of an Assassin Guild Master happens to fuck up a contract on hi last trial," Bella Donna remarked.
"That never happened," Marius snarled.
Bella Donna lightly laughed, "sure it didn't. Julien can't fire a bullet at a tin can ten feet away but somehow he miraculously managed to snipe a guy from two-thousand and five hundred yards away on his last contract?"
"Belle!" warned her father.
Remy wondered why it was she was testing her father, he had to wonder if this was all for his own benefit, if she were trying to show she had no regard for rules or for secrets to prove a point.
"Only one guy in our guild could have made that shot," said Bella Donna, "and that's Long Tony."
Remy wondered who Long Tony was...was he called Long Tony because he was tall? Was it an ironic nickname because he was short? Or was it a nickname because he held record-breaking distances for sniping?
Better off not knowing, Remy supposed.
"Your brother is an excellent marksman," said Marius; Remy picked up on how the man had to feign his pride.
"When he's sober...or not high," Bella Donna supposed with a shrug, "when was the last time that happened though."
No wonder they were so quick to get rid of him to the Thieves, Remy thought in disgust. Send us their biggest disappointment, take the strongest contender – at least that's what they think I am - from the Thieves to turn into one of their own. Unfair trade...Jean-Luc probably thought he hit the goddamn jackpot when Marius agreed to let him take Julien.
"We're here," said Marius, quickly changing the subject, "hope you're both well rested, it's gonna be a very tough day."