Title: The Mission

Author: Bloodrope

Fandom: Vampire Academy

Rating: T

Prologue:

I was absolutely out of my mind. I just had to be. No one in their sane mind would actually decide to break into a museum… well on second thought that was practically my job but back onto the topic, no ordinary person would attempt something that would end them up in jail for the rest of their lives. I mean they wouldn't right? Then why was it that I had to be handpicked out of a billion of others in this ever so cheery world to be chosen? Those lucky normal oblivious bastards. An internal conversation with yourself usually means one of two things, either you are bored out of your mind or you're crazy… Both at the moment are currently on the table to be evaluated if you ask me but I was definitely going for the latter in this situation.

Chapter 1: The Calling

If you were one-step away from making the biggest score of your life, would you walk away?

The maddening cry of something roaring near my head was interrupting me from my very comfortable dream of being "invited" to the white house. I had walked in a crimson Prabal Gurung floor-length gown with a pair of Christian Louboutin pumps. As I walked down the beautiful corridor to the dining hall, I had excused myself from the couple I had walked in with and wandered down the halls where the secret service had a watchful eye. I smiled at them as sweetly and as innocently as I possibly could without detecting any unnecessary attention and gazed up at the walls, where priceless antique paintings were hung. An indiscreet thought passed through my mind if they had any sensors on the frame or if it was weight detected and would the guards trample out from the peaceful dinner we were invited for to retrieve the painting. The internal battle of "testing" out the President's security was tempting but I couldn't be too greedy tonight. Instead, though I took a few vigilant steps towards one of the framed works of art that was of previous President. At least that's what I thought because it seemed that the man's scruffy yet defined cheekbones were starting to hallow inward, while his aged white hair started to turn to a light shade of blue before it gradiented downward towards his scalp a pink. His thin lips started to lift upward in a sinister smile, but never opening while his painted oceanic blue orbs started to flicker around as though trying to gain a sense of clarity. I leaned forward my arm lifting to touch the canvas when to my right I sensed someone was there, their eyes burning deep into my skin. A light musical sound started to echo from the dining hall, the sound of violins playing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 5 in A. Wait, how did I know this? I wasn't a classical music type of girl though I did appreciate the beauty and simplicity that it held as it captured people's souls.

A heated wave of air brushed across my exposed neck and a slight wave of Goosebumps flickered across my olive skin. A man with a tenor voice chuckled and the only reason that I was able to figure that out was well because no woman could have such a hearty laugh… unless they were from the circus. Not that I had anything against them, eh perhaps I did.

"Miss, I believe you are missing the grand show of the evening. Would you allow me to escort you to the dining hall?" His voice sounded as smooth as velvet and I was instantly enwrapped by him, though I hadn't yet seen him. My attention revered towards the now normal and non-gradient haired painting thank God.

The man in front of me was of thin build I could only assume and had a wave of messy salt and pepper hair, which seemed out of place with his penguin suit. He held out a white gloved hand and my darkened irises looked to what was in his right hand; a sleek black cane with a white tip at the bottom and at the base where the hand would wrap around was the head of a Gryphon in what looked like to be in white gold or sterling silver. Against my better judgment, I placed my hand into his. Warmth was radiating from the wool glove as his fingers enwrapped my own dainty hand. A light pressure was initially then the pain became more noticeable, enough to disturb me. My wired eyes traced over his strong bold features before landing on the oddly placed sinister smirk that ravished across his thin lips as he yanked my body towards him unexpectedly.

"Now now my dear, don't make a sound. If you do, there shall be consequences to be paid. Now follow me and let's have a chat."

Fury flickered behind my dark chocolate orbs. I was infuriated. I didn't know who this man is and it seems that I'm now fish bait. Any witty response that I normally would've slithered as a retort ceased its make way at the base of my throat. Its inability to allow me to send my raging profanities towards his direction was just pathetic.

Like a lackey, I followed orders, and as we passed by men and women in dark suits with a transparent wire attached to the left side of their ear canal, I tried to make eye contact with them. Nope, it seemed that the only thing that these hired people honestly cared about was the big man in charge, not some woman who was literally being kidnapped if you wanted to be technical. Oh, no that was just too much of a hassle to deal with. If you were on fire or perhaps the man who was "escorting" you out of the Entrance hall of the White house was waving a gun and stating he wants to have a "chat" with the president or he'd kill a hostage, then it seems that'd be in their résumé of interest to intervene. I cursed a few nasty phrases mentally and sent them glares that went by unnoticed.

The man's arm slinked down my back until he wrapped his arms around my waist. It was as though he was trying to make his point that I was in his clutches. That or try to escape. The latter seemed much more reasonable. I did know that there would be a lot of people, mostly imbeciles with Nikon camera's clicking away, capturing every movement of those who elegantly walk through the doors. The absolute glory that it was to be a Paparazzo.

As we walked down the stairs, flashes of lights immediately clouded my vision but after a few milliseconds, they ceased. My feet were taking me somewhere though my mind couldn't seem to place where. I heard a car drive up towards the gate but didn't see. Everything seemed to mix, intertwine with one another blurring. It was as though that piece of information wasn't anything important; that it should be discarded without hesitation and I didn't push further on the issue.

The next thing that my mind conjured was that I was alone. My breathing was the only thing that I could hear besides my erratic heart that filled my ears. Darkness surrounded me, casting a veil that I couldn't remove from my eyes. If I squinted I could just barely though make out the frame of a door or that was what I thought it was. The most odd thing though was that I wasn't uncomfortable. I was sitting on a rather comfortable couch. The leather was soft to the touch and the stitching was thick underneath my fingertips.

The door opened just as I was making myself acquainted with the chair and thankfully so. Had I been alone for much longer let's just say that I might need to go to a place where white padded walls were going to be my new best friend. I'm exaggerating of course but can't a girl try to make her point on how annoying it was to be left to her own devices when even she doesn't know them? My eyes lifted from their fixed position on the nothing around me and locked onto the same elderly gentleman who had ever so kindly escorted me from what would've been an experience of a lifetime. Light illuminated everything as he stepped in. The same sinister smile that had been engraved onto his pale features was still in place. He bowed his head and I angled my head.

"Let's cut the crap old man. Why did you just abduct me?" I tried to state in a calm tone, but anger just seemed to lace itself around each word that left my plump lips.

He laughed blatantly, amused and leaned against the doorway.

"Miss Mazur, surely you shouldn't be upset. I have a proposition for you. One that would be worth your very precious time."

My interest slightly perked up, but I was hesitant. Hell, for all I knew this man was coming to bait me, get a reaction and then chop my head! I leaned in forward, putting up a façade and tried to look professionally curious.

"And what is this proposition that you are sure that will be worth my time?" I smoothly stated in a calm tone, my eyes never leaving his Chrystal blues'

His smirk faltered and it looked as though he was frazzled that I gave in so easily. Score 1 for Mazur, 0 for the old geezer. I internally cheered at his reaction. He took a minute to compose himself and probably rephrase any rebuttal he had towards my decline that was assumed to pass from my lips.

"Something that is well in your expertise. I'd like you to bring me a painting that is at the Cantini Museum which is in Marseilles, France. To be brief I'd like for you to retrieve Edgar Degas' Les Choristes. Of course, pay wise you'd receive a hefty sum unless you have a set price. I'm sure we can negotiate something that can accommodate you."

I was intrigued and just as I was going to inquire more about what I was to be implicating myself in this annoying beeping noise intertwined itself into where I was at. It was so familiar, I just wanted to smack it away, ending its pathetic existence, and return to serious matters at hand. However, nothing in life ever turns out the way we wish. The old geezer who was once in front of me, disappeared though I was still sitting on the couch but everything was starting to fade. It's opacity which was once vibrant was becoming transparent before once again blackness consumed me.

The noise however was continuing and I regained consciousness, my arm flailing about to where the incessant being was going to meet the wrath that was my fist punching it into obliteration. My hand started palms down hitting the alarm clock and after a few tries success met my way. I muttered a curse at whoever decided to come up with such a devious invention that was more troublesome than figuring out how to work a coffee machine. A groan fled from my closed lips and I involuntarily opened my eyes to a slowly lit room; the sun making its presence known as it raises itself up from its lovely slumber and announcing that the new day was to be started.

A sound of someone banging on my door instantly brought me back to my senses. I lifted my still sleepy body up from the warmth caress of the large cotton duvet and slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans that had been tossed onto the floor from the previous night. I padded across the freezing hardwood floor towards the door, swinging wide open not caring that I was in just a pair of shorts and a white tank that barely covered my midriff. The door slammed against the doorstopper causing a pitched rumbling to emit from its coils before hitting lighter against the wall. I yawned loudly and covered my mouth barely squinting open one of my eyes to revel a suit. Armani maybe? No it had to be French, something foreign. The dark fabric with gray stitching was one thing but the slight scent of Armani code. The fresh yet brusque scent tickled my nostrils and I lifted my head to be greeted by Emerald orbs sparkling in absolute delight. A sly grin started to slither across his light pink lips revealing a pair of pearly whites.

"Isn't this a surprise, Rose. I didn't know that you wanted me this badly or I would've been inclined to come earlier," His chuckle irritated me. It had to be not even 10 and someone was trying to kill any chances of me having a good day. I blinked away some of the sleep that had encrusted itself to my lashes and then started to rub my eyes. For once I couldn't give a care to riposte.

"Coffee" I muttered trying to stifle another yawn and I felt a hand press into the right side of my shoulder pushing me back into my room.

He steered my back towards my lovely bed. Oh how I had missed you, darling bed. I looked him over once again, seeing a hand behind his back and the faint aroma of coffee beans grounded and heated to utter perfection. Well that's what I was imagining and hoping. Slowly he pulled his left hand away from his back to show me my coffee cup. Tentatively I sniffed it, before sending a curious glance in his direction.

"Two sugars, Hazelnut coffee-mate and a dab of honey right or am I going to have to do some damage?"

He nodded holding both of his hands up in surrender, and kicked my pants up into the air catching them and tossing them to my side and grabbed the rolling chair that was by my computer desk. He leaned over and waited, patiently I had to admit which was slightly odd. However, I didn't have the brain power to actually think it through and I took a rather hefty gulp of the steaming hot liquid. The searing heat of the caffeine made its way down my esophagus, and though the pain was intense, I was instantly warmed up.

"Okay now what is it that you want at this Godly hour, Andre?"

Andre was a man of many faces, many tricks and by God many words. With his good looks, his height and his stature in the community it seemed that every slut in a 3-mile walking distance was attracted to his beauty. That I wasn't going to deny. Andre was a very handsome man but he wasn't my type and by God he knew it. His hands interlocked with one another as his body etched forward, his elbows digging into his dark pant suit. His eyes held many emotions but the one that I was able to clearly see was annoyance.

"Rose, you've been here for 3 months. Not that I honestly have a problem with you being here but the problem that I have is that you're hiding. From what I don't have the slightest clue. Do I want to know? Damn right I do. Will I hassle you? No, not really but I do have my ways. Plus, my sister is worried about you and when I try to pry for more information all I get is the silent treatment," His voice rose with almost each word that was filled with emotional rage. "Quite sexy I had to admit, that was a first," I thought to myself. He took a breath half way and continued his rampage, which was absolutely justified.

I was still trying to lay low but I couldn't be overstaying my welcome and freeloading on the Dragomir's for much longer. I had to get back in the field and get the cash to start flowing once again. 3 months out of heisting was to other thieves an eternity. Time changed in 3 months. People start to forget that you exist or even start to blacklist you from their rather paying sources and when that happens finding work that gets you enough cash to pay your rent as well as other necessities becomes scarce. It's like starting at the bottom of the food chain again. Something I did not want to have to go through. Once, my friend was enough.

I came to New York not just to hide away at my best friends Manhattan apartment until shit with my previous "client" cooled over. Seems that 3 months was a justifiable amount of time, it had to be. I nodded to Andre who was still talking but not as elaborate as he was just a few seconds before. He changed the subject of the conversation from me staying and him wanting to know what the hell I was doing freeloading to talking about a woman who had caught his eye. Immediately, I tuned him out and reverted to sipping my warmed coffee.

I had to come up with a plan. The top of my list were the following:

-Numero Uno: Job

-Numero dos: Cash

-Numero tres: Dega

-Numero quatro: Plane ticket

Now if I could just figure out a way to get numero uno I was at a start but I couldn't ask Andre and I had couldn't be stuck in an office filing papers for clients who were stuck up snobs. I had to be out in the danger zone.

Silence filled my room and as curious as I was to see the reasoning that I was blessed with the emptiness it was a short fall. Andre scoffed, pushing up from the rolling chair and left the room sending a wink towards my direction and his eyes roamed across my crossed figure. Something passed from his lips about having an important meeting that he had to be present in and how a woman was suing her boss for cheating on her. Shocking as that was, it wasn't any of my business. When Andre left my room, I was left to my own devices. Firstly, I had to empty my bladder that was crying out in protest. Not wanting to anger my body to the point where it was going to start a war, I left once again the addicting warmth and padded out of my bedroom. Technically, it was the guest-room but since I had been here longer than the average guest had I felt that I had bragging rights to the title, and hauled over to the white bathroom.

:-:

I was to be meeting Lissa over at Buceo 95 by three for a late lunch and discuss some interesting topics that shouldn't be talked around other Dragomir's… well other normal people in general. My closet held necessities, nothing fancy except for a skinny black dress. I pulled out a pair of Paul by Paul Smith Indigo Denim cropped jeans from the hanger and pulled a James Perse white long sleeved V-neck Rib T-Shirt. A lot of the things I had were things Lissa felt that I needed to have and no matter what protests I pushed from my pretty lips it seemed to just go through one ear and out the other; the delete button was on major overload when it came to what Lissa thought I should wear. It was slightly chilly these past few days as we were in the end of July; I was sad to say goodbye to Summer. At the front of the closet was the Deep Jade Precis jacket that Lissa had gotten a few weeks ago and I felt that it'd make a nice ensemble. To top it all off I was in a pair of black Mui Mui's and some nice bangle bracelets before I treaded out of the apartment. My eyes not really roaming across the designer pieces of furniture, to the highly expensive paintings and sculptures that were happily hanging on the wall, were propped up on a stool or on an end table.

The inability to control the habit of stealing things that were of high value was starting to honestly take a toll on me. I didn't envy the rich but I did find that those who held a greater amount of money from their hard work did tend to have the most exquisite taste in priceless beauties. Now that I was jealous of, but I didn't have the honest time to actually want to get a normal society job. There was no fun in working from 9-5 doing the repetitive day in and day out. I was a thrill seeker; an adrenaline junkie.

I steered myself into the overly spacious kitchen and thought "Martha Stewart would kill to design this kitchen. I wondered if Martha was a cook, I couldn't remember but I skipped towards the Kenmore fridge and spied around for something to please my grumbling stomach. Spotting some cupped yogurt, I snagged it and slammed the door shut with the back of my hells and skidded to my left opening the drawer and pulling out a silver spoon.

Never would I get used to this, I thought to myself ripping the aluminum seal from the cup and digging in, stuffing my mouth full of strawberry goodness. The digital numbers on the oven stated that it was just after noon and I decided that I might as well get there early, shock Lissa into having a heart attack and happily splurge. Grabbing my keys, I locked the door behind me, slipped on my Ray Ban Wayfarers', and walked down the quiet hallway towards the elevator pushing the down arrow.

The ding of the elevator alerted me that my ride had just shown up and when the metal doors swayed open, I entered punching the L button to take me towards the lobby. It was a few floors down and I leaned against the brass railings at the back and allowed myself to review the dream that I had experienced again for the third night straight. It wasn't a figment of my imagination that the Strigoi family had a bounty on my head for the reason that I didn't hand them over the painting that they expected me to.

At least they got something; I mentally scoffed allowing myself to open the sealed door that was May. To think about then was slightly unnerving.

Sirens were blazing everywhere. The cops had showed up with private detectives all in tow. I stood across the Museum, watching with enjoyment. Not many people could slip into any museum, steal their most prized showcase and escape without alerting the graveyard shift of guards. I could've snorted. A gust of French wind waved towards my direction causing my long dark tresses to lift in a wave behind me. French journalists tried to competitively get the latest story for their networks or to sell and camera operators with their reporters were at the scene where a loaned art piece was stolen. The gates to the museum were starting to open and an elderly man with graying hair stepped out. Reporters and their people started rolling their camera's asking questions from left to right, asking if it was true that it was an inside job or if a civilian had snuck during visiting hours and snatched the painting.

The man held up his hand and looked at each camera for a millisecond and from where I was standing it seemed that he was trying to figure out what he was going to tell the world. "There does not seem to be any signs of breaking and entering," the city's public prosecutor Jacques Dallest voiced out towards the cameras taking a quick breath. "But, we are letting the detectives do their work to find the culprit. That is all." He nodded curtly and walked past the cameras towards a red-parked Ligier JS2 before entering and driving away.

I raised my hand to my lips to obviously hide the smile that was creeping across my features and thought, "Well of course they aren't going to get much done. It was quite simple to unscrew the painting from the canvas wall. An amateur could've done the task even." Spending too much time at the crime scene without doing anything productive would alert those who were perhaps watching, so I took my leave towards my rental car for the day. It was a blue Aixam Crossline. Tucked underneath the seats was the Dega, neatly rolled into a container where the overexposure wouldn't do any excess damage. As I slid into the driver's side of the car, I pulled out my burn phone and pressed re-dial.

Words in French spoke to me quickly stating that the call was being transferred and following was the natural soft ringing of the call being waiting to be answered.

The elevator door opened and I walked across the glossy tiled floor, the heels of my ankle spikes chattering across with each step I took. I passed the Receptionist booth that was in the center of the large lobby. Andy, the manager of the establishment met my gaze and nodded to which I could not help but grin.

"Slow today again Andy my man?"

His eyes grew slightly darker at my comment and he leaned over the top and sighed.

"Miss Hathaway, a pleasure it is always to see you. Today is a fairly normal day, thank you for asking. Enjoy your time out," His curt and professional voice called my way.

I rolled my eyes, added a soft "Pfft," before waving to him, and exited the front door. Today around this time, the bellhop was out to lunch and thankfully so. The boy was overworked by just standing and looking at people pass him by in his Maroon red uniform and matching hat where at the breast-pocket and middle of the hat had the apartments' Letter's KW which stood for Key West.

Since I had a few hours to kill, I flagged a cabbie down and stated that I wanted him to drive me to Metropolitan Museum of Art. Not very much was said, but the man was very proficient in getting me there in just about 30 minutes to which I handed him the 60 dollars and told him to keep the change. Standing before me was the beautiful Greek like structure with large decorative columns that reminded me of what would be holding up Mount Olympus.

As I climbed up the stairs, I noticed a lot of people today sitting and playing some bluegrass tunes and eating their snacks before ultimately departing back into the museum or to their work. I smiled at a small school of children who were tossing their foods at one another and a woman who was barking orders telling them to behave themselves or else their guardians would be called to take them home. I sniggered and felt the cool breeze of the air conditioning fan across my cool skin.

"Oh look who we have here, out of all days," A cheery masculine voice called and I looked around trying to find the voice. Something about the familiarity of it was irking but out of the thousands of people who visit this museum, surely I wasn't the intended person. I walked past the guards and walked up the stairs towards the second floor, where the Frans Hals gallery was being showcased. I started to pass by the stunning portraits of Paulus Verschuur and The Smokers when the same voice called from behind me.

A man at least 7 feet towered in front of me, his dark hazel orbs gleaming into my own. I tilted my head and tried to bypass him. Surely, I didn't know this man… At least I thought I didn't. The man let out a sigh and grabbed my arm to which my eyes widened to.

"Miss Hathaway, correct?" He softly asked not trying to cause attention to be brought to himself which was a very hard thing to do if you were a stunning model man that was the size of a giant. Oh yeah, very hard. I yanked my arm from his large hand.

"Yes, and who the hell are you?" I yelled in a hushed whisper.

The man straightened up and pulled the suit jacket down, removing any wrinkles that could've blemished the fabric and held out his hand to me.

"Terribly sorry, I'm Dimitri Belikov." He gave me a shit-eating smile that showed his perfection of peered teeth and I started at him in shock.

Holy shit, I'm fucked. Well one thing's for sure, Lissa was probably going to be waiting for me a tad bit longer than expected, as the man who was standing in front of me was the man who I sent my life to practically. Did he know who I was? How could he have found me, especially when I was using my mother's maiden name? Well fuck me sideways.

A/N: Well hello there darlings of the Fanfiction and Vampire Academy verse! I cannot believe all the feedback and support about my newest fic that I am actually really looking forward to work on. Now I'm looking for a qualified beta who isn't afraid of details and is willing to help me organize how I want this story to flow. I have so many ideas and honestly I know I suck at timing x3 So if you want to give this a shot or know someone, please PM me! Oh and before I forget I have posted the banner and I'll be posting pics of characters and stuff.

Let me know what you think about this chapter!

Always yours,

Bloodrope