Two females walked down the street, swishing their hips lightly before stopping at red double doors. The guards sized them, taking in their outfits and makeup caking their faces.
"We were sent for," Livie said
The guards sized them again.
"I thought there were supposed to be three of you," the one to the right said
"Unfortunately, the other fell sick," Livie clicked, irritation clear on her face, "But both of us can handle the job well," she asserted, linking their hands and smiling.
"We definitely can," Lyla giggled, the sound foreign to her ears.
The man on the right surveyed them again, "Follow me," he said, and she almost sighed in relief.
Seeing that only one was ushering them in, Lyla faked a trip, catching herself using the other man's arm, "Sorry."
The man helped her up, his hand only inches from her ass; predictable.
"You must work out a lot," she reached out to squeeze his biceps, allowing her eyes to sparkle with amusement and desire.
The man smirked, "Nothing much."
"Let's go," the man ahead said, irritation lacing his voice.
Lyla feigned a wince as she stepped forward into the corridor, then another as she took the next step. She turned behind her, "Could you help rub on my ankle? I'm sure I'll be fine, but a firm hand would help quicker."
A shy smile and the tiniest bite of her lip had him stalking towards her. He crouched before her, his hands on her boot ready to remove it, but Lyla did not miss how his eyes roved down her thigh or how he touched behind her knee briefly.
Turning to Livie, she gave a small dip of her chin before quickly reaching out for the chopstick pin and stabbing it into the man's neck.
His eyes widened in shock as he held his neck, blood flowing through his fingers. It was a perfect hit on the artery, but just to be sure, she reached for her dagger and stabbed him. In front of her, the other man was on the ground, a knife on his back and a slit throat.
The witch walked to the doors, hiding herself. She let out a whistle, the sound like a cry of a bird. Their three allies responded by jumping onto the roof. It was only seconds as they took down the guards.
Lyla took out the other dagger hidden at her waist, wrapping her hands around their hilt and breathing in, she calmed her senses. There was only blood, pain, and death awaiting, and as she advanced, she hoped the latter wouldn't be for any of her companions.
Moving to the left, she walked beside the wall using the little shadows there as cover.
Lyla crept behind the man who had his back to her, her feet light against the tiles. Raising her dagger as she neared him, she aimed for his neck, but her boots scraped slightly on the floor; the sound was low but enough to make him turn.
Slashing, the dagger cut across his arm and part of his chest. He quickly moved back, but she followed. Ducking low, she avoided the blade that came at her and, in the process, slashed at his knees. He bellowed.
Pushing him, the man fell, his head hitting the floor with a thud. She didn't give him a chance before she was straddling him and impaling her dagger into his chest. She watched as life left his eyes, sure that the image would haunt her.
The minute she stood, another guard was on her, this time the fight earned her a deep cut on her arm, but she had still been able to land a fatal wound.
Turning to the right, she was met by Livie's purple eyes. She dipped her chin — all the guards on the lower floor had been taken care of, but they did not converge onto the agreed room until they saw their allies climb down the stairs.
As agreed, Felix guarded the secret door while Lucien and Leo led them down. The two made quick work of dealing with the guards, and just as the one on the left slumped to the ground, the lock clicked, and a man in white stood before them.
Time stood still as Leo faced him — the bastard who had dared to lay a finger on Mor. His anger pulsed, eyes screaming bloody murder.
Kicking him back into the room, he slammed the door behind him, but at the sight of Mor a few feet before him, chained and bloodied, he paused. He was going to curve this man.
The rest moved to the next room, the two ladies stepping in first. The fools sitting there smiled, lust already clouding their eyes before noting the blood and gore covering their clothes.
One of them attempted to reach for something at his side, but too late, he fell to the ground, eyes in shock as blood leaked from his throat.
Lucien, who had moved so silently that even Lyla hadn't noticed him, faced the other man, and the idiot had the good sense to look scared.
Casually, Lucien pushed the body, making a bloody mess with his feet before taking a seat where it had vacated. Leaning back, he smiled.
"Now if you value your life, you'll answer my questions," he said, voice cold and menacing.
Lucien fired his questions at the man, and he answered what he could in the hope that if he did, his miserable life would be spared; a fool's hope.
Livie kept herself busy looking at the drugs displayed on the table while taking what she could and stashing them quickly into a bag.
Minutes later, the door opened, revealing Leo, with new blood splattered all over him. He nodded to Livie and the female, taking two more vials left with him.
Lyla was left watching as Lucien interrogated the man, his cool demeanor more frightening than his cold eyes.
Why was he doing this? Why go out of his way and endanger his life for this? Was it just from the kindness of his heart, or was there more?
Leo returned later, urgency in his voice demanding that they leave; they had spent too much time here.
Lucien stood, tucking his hands into his coat. He passed by the man, and the poor soul sighed. Lyla didn't wait to see more as she exited the room.
Outside, Mor was held up between her two friends, her eyes slightly swollen and face bruised, but those were only the simplest of her injuries.
"I've healed as much as I could, but for some reason her wounds aren't healing quickly enough," Livie said, face deep in worry.
Mor grumbled as if trying to say something.
"Let's get her out of here first."
Lucien, exiting the room, stopped and stared at Mor. His jaw flexed, the only sign of his anger before he walked out.
Lyla, at the rear, glanced at the corpse left in the room, white clothes now red and open eyes staring at nothing. One of its arms lay a few inches from it, its ankles twisted and broken, cuts marred it in different places. Her face scrunched in disgust, but it was not from the image.
Felix at the door inhaled sharply at the sight of his bloodied friend, but they had no time for worry; they needed to move.
Reaching the open space, Leo hesitantly passed Mor to Lyla before covering her in a black cloak. His eyes relayed enough that she simply nodded in understanding and watched as he rushed up the stairs.