Chapter 1
The sun is blaring down on me, making sweat trickle down my back as I make my way across campus. My hat catches the sweat dripping from my hairline. Why we had to pick a college in the south is beyond me. I would have happily stayed in Boston. But I know I can't argue with Sister Tara as she is my superior for my group. But really, Georgia? It's so hot and muggy. Ugh, I just need to get to my class and sit down.
Hopefully, these old buildings have AC or at least a fan. My dorm is so old that it doesn't have built in AC, but I was told I could rent a window AC unit for the semester if I wanted to. I haven't even been here a week and my to-do list is a mile long. At the top of my to-do list is a name, Sean McKay, my target for this mission. I wasn't given a picture like I normally was. My superior said that there were no known photos of him. Which made the whole situation more mysterious as I normally took out well-known officials. Not senators or ambassadors yet but local figureheads and a few judges.
But I had never heard of this man. I didn't know his age, occupation, what he looked like, how tall he was, his strengths, or where he lived. I was advised to take my time and that it had to look like an accident. I would have to do extensive surveillance. I'm not sure what makes him so special that I can't kill him through conventional means, like with my knives. It would be fast, plus I just got a new set before moving here, and I have been dying for an excuse to try them out. I suppose this mission will push my creative side. I'm an excellent assassin with knives and guns. I've even choked a man between my thighs before. Now I have to expand my portfolio, as Sister Tara would say.
I come to a crosswalk that is in a curve on campus, look both ways and then start to walk across. I didn't even make it halfway when a black Aston Martin Vanquish comes screeching to a halt just inches from my leg. The driver honks his horn at me and I squint to try to make out what kind of person almost ran me over with their car. A playboy behind the wheel of an expensive sports car... how original. I roll my eyes and continue to walk in front of the car while making intense eye contact with the driver. He huffs at me, shaking his honey-colored hair while his eyes seem to blaze with anger.
The minute I clear the corner of his car, he speeds off. What an asshole, I think to myself. There were plenty of arrogant playboys in Boston. Loads, in fact. I'm not suprised they are here too. Old southern money families, I imagine, come with their own brand of boy brats that grow up to be prideful, selfish men. I continue on my trudge to my lecture hall. These buildings are so tall, the campus is like its own miniature city. Everything screams colonial America.
Wearing black today really wasn't the smartest move. I wear jeans as I always cover my lower half during recon to protect my legs. My black converses are specially made with a carbon toe for fighting, but they make my feet feel like 2 sweaty bricks. At least my eyes aren't being fried. I might be stripped of most of my individuality, but I couldn't resist the purple tinted sunglasses. I think they are popular enough that I blend in well.
The campus is teeming with students, all hustling to get to their first classes. I haven't been to a public school or any school outside the sisterhood since I was 10. We had all the basic classes sure but we had more in depth physical training, recon training, arms training, hand-to-hand combat training, and other different courses needed to make a trained assassin. We get our first mission when we turn 16 if we make it through our training.
Sometimes it feels overwhelming to be around so many people, but as long as I have my mission to focus on, I can push past the feelings. This mission will be different though. I was advised in the target meeting that this could take months to pull off. The most I've ever done for a target is 2 weeks. I'll have to work to make sure I blend in with the population here. From what I have seen so far southern women seem to be more friendly and flirtatious than I am used to. Almost every girl I have seen here has their make-up and hair done even if they have classes first thing in the morning. We had beauty school every year in the summer, so that won't be an issue for me.
A Sister of Selene must be neat and presentable at all times. She must be able to blend in with her surroundings and hide in plain sight. She must be quick, move silently, and able to keep herself from being caught. The expectations are staggering, but as a group of orphan girls with nowhere to go, what else did we have to do? Despite spending all of our time together, we were discouraged from spending free time together. It made it harder when someone died or was rehomed out of the order.
I arrive at my building and pull the old oak doors letting the cool air slip around me. AC. Thank God, hopefully my class isn't too overcrowded, so I can actually enjoy it. The mosaic floor makes everyone's footsteps echo as the ceiling arches far above my head. There are etchings in the marble of vines with flowers and Spanish moss. Well, if I have to be stuck here for a few months, I at least admit that it is quite beautiful here. I head to the grand staircase in the middle of the first floor. My classroom is thankfully at the top of the stairs.
No one noticed that I came in, so I quickly went to my seat. My name is written on a sheet of paper that is taped to my desk. I take a quick look around me to take in my classroom. There are at least 40 people in here and I feel my heartbeat start to quicken. I have to do my breathing exercises to calm myself back down and center myself. As I take a deep breath in I smell the paper, the smell of old booze from the night before, the perfume and cologne used by my classmates to try to cover it up, coffee, and the smell of cleaning chemicals. There are girls behind me talking about a party tonight. I wonder if going to a party would be beneficial for my recon.
"Good morning class! I hope you have all settled in well for the grand adventure this year holds!" the professor booms as he walks to the front of the room. The professor is a man of medium height, stocky build, and a warm smile. He looks around the room smiling at everyone.
"Now everyone should have a partner, so please raise your hand if your partner isn't here." I looked down at the other side of my table while raising my hand. Of course, as fate would have it, there is the name, Sean McKay. By the look of things, I am the only one here without a partner.
"Ah yes, Miss Worth, is it?" the professor asked.
"Yes, sir. But you can call me Elena," I answered.
"Okay Elena, well if I don't hear from your partner today I will have to rethink lab partners but you'll be okay by yourself for today." He flashes me a warm smile as he walked to the door. The professor starts introducing himself and going over the expectations of the class. I get my notebook out of my backpack to make notes. A large ruckus is heard as someone falls against the door as the professor is closing it.
"So sorry I'm late professor, parking is such a hassle on this campus." I look up to see that the one that was the cause for all the ruckus was none other than the i***t who almost ran me over on my way to class. Now that I could see him better, I could see he was indeed a playboy. Tall, handsome, honey blonde hair and grey eyes that sparkle like silver. He must have all the girls falling at his feet. I look around to see if there was another empty table but mine was the only one with space at it.
"Mr. McKay, I will allow you in class this time, but please note that should you be late again you will miss the lesson." The professor says sternly.
"Understood, again I apologize," he flashes a smile to the professor before turning towards me. While he walks over, I can't believe that my target is the one who almost made me roadkill. This is too good. I giggled to myself as Sean McKay sits down in the seat next to me realizing that I am the one who aided in making him late.
