Torn Between Two Moons

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Natasha stumbled into her safe house in a worse state than she had ever being in. She had at least managed to stop the worst of the bleeding through a makeshift bandage, though occasional drops of blood still fell. She had removed the arrows, the pain causing her to briefly pass out, and had dumped them in the river. Her suit was a mess, torn up, bloodied, and pin cushioned until it wasn't even fit for rags.

Her safe house in question was in the south side of town, in a little corner of the city where the large arms of the law failed to reach. It was a den of outlaws, where the desperate and the dangerous gathered to scheme and plot. To most, the crime infested south was a place to avoid at all costs, a story told by mothers to scare children into behaving, but to Natasha, it was home, or at least, it had been for the past few weeks.

She passed through a broken board in a window, wincing at a pain in her ribs, the door was always locked and boarded up to provide the illusion of this place being abandoned, she doubted anyone could trace her, not with her skills, but still, it didn't hurt being too careful.

The building used to be a nursery for children, built by an eccentric business man who did not like to take no for an answer. Things went well for a while, but not long after a g**g fight broke out, and the building was set on fire, destroying most of the property and rendering all but two rooms unusable.

Natasha's room was exactly how she left it. Daggers were thrown everywhere, with some impaled to the wall, though most were impaled into the straw dummy in the corner of the room. Disguises and not a few passports were scattered around, most of them mixed with currencies from other countries. The perpetual smell of smoke still lingered in the air, nothing seemed to be able to get that out. All in all, it was just the way she left it, except for the werewolf relaxing on her table.

Natasha moved grabbing a dagger from the floor and throwing it with some much force it caused her to wince. The werewolf turned, as if he knew the dagger was coming, and caught it at the hilt just inches from his face.

“I would think that there were more gentle ways to entertain visitors, wouldn't you?” He said jokingly, all the while inspecting the knife, “by the way, this is some fine silver you got here, though the workmanship could've been....” The werewolf was interrupted by a punch to the face, he sidestepped to the left, just barely, the punch missing his face by millimeters, one second later and he would have lost some teeth.

“Hey....” He said, but he couldn't complete it, Natasha gave him no time to recover, she attacked, punching and kicking and flipping, until all the werewolf could do was barely dodge.

“Hey,” He said again, this time catching her hand before she could punch again, he held her wrist, gently but firmly, and pulled her close, until Natasha was close enough to smell him, he smelled like trees and rain, of a place unexplored. He looked her in the eyes, his almost a glowing sea of gold in the dark night, he said, his voice filled with sincerity “I'm not here to fight you.” And for some reason, some part of Natasha believed him.

Natasha removed her hands from his, and walked to the side and picking up a bottle of water, she opened the cap and drank it all in seconds, throwing the bottle into the basket that served as a trash bin. Why was her heart racing so much all of a sudden, it probably had to do with the fight, that was all.

“So,” Natasha said, turning around to face him, “If, as you say, you aren't here to kill me, who are you? And more importantly, what do you want?” she asked, while slipping the dagger she took from the bottle into her wrist where she could easily retrieve it, just because she trusted him didn't mean she forgot what the werewolves did to her mother.

“You could hold as many knives as you want, it still won't change the fact that I'm not here to fight.” He said, his lips curving slightly into what could be a smile, and a twinkle in his eye, he looked as if he was enjoying this.

Natasha grimaced, this man had seen through it, and from the way he moved earlier, she could tell he was highly skilled, she was no match for him in her injured state, though she was positive if she was well she could wipe that grin off his face. “I noticed you didn't answer either of the questions.”

Now that Natasha wasn't fighting, she actually studied him. He looked young, younger than she thought at first. He was around her age, which placed him around twenty, though he could be slightly older. He was tall, around six feet, and athletically built, with sandy brown hair that was just slightly ruffled. Unlike most his age, he stood with a quiet confidence, embracing his height like he knew he was to be in charge of anywhere he walked in. The look was only slightly spoiled by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, like he had just fooled everyone and seemed to get away it. Natasha did not like that look.

He wore a liquid metal outfit similar to Natasha's, though while hers was torn and dripping blood, his was still fresh, skin tight, clinging to every muscles in his body. His smile had the same mysterious feature as his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying himself. He carried no weapons, or at least, none that Natasha could see.

“A wise man once said, the most patient man enjoys the greatest peace,” He replied, and continued smiling, as if enjoying the suspense.

In reply, Natasha gave him a long look, until he sighed and shook his head, mumbling something, Natasha caught the word, 'fun killer' and smiled, though she hid it quickly.

“Okay,” He said, then paused and took a deep breath, as if resigning himself to a fate he was willing to gamble on, regardless of the consequences. “I am Ashier of the Fangris,” He said. “And I am here because I have need of your services.”

“So Ashier, you want to hire me, huh. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not a dog to fetch on another's command, I don't work for money.” She said, turning around, this was pointless after all. “Better luck on your next assassin, hope she doesn't m**m that pretty face of yours for breaking into her house.”

He chuckled, then corrected, “It seems you mistake me, I never said I would be paying in money.”

She turned around, only to see him smiling, the nerve of him, but now he had her attention, and worse, he knew it. “I don't want to pay you in money, and I sincerely doubt you'd accept, seeing as you go around spreading your gifts generously.” That earned him a scowl from Natasha, and he laughed, as if that was what he wanted.

“In truth, what I offer is to pay you in information, my spies in the Arnia werewolves would definitely had picked up that tonight's endeavor was an ambush, and if we had played our cards right, we might've been able to ambush your ambushers.” He paused, knowing he had her now, and stared at her tattered suit, “You know what, I might just throw in new gear for free, on the house.”

Natasha scowled, she seemed to be doing a lot of that around him, he was definitely annoying, no doubt about that, yet.......... “Why?” She asked.

“Why... what?”

“Why me? Why go through all the trouble of tracking me, you could probably have had a hundred assassins already in a fraction of the time you used to track me, so why take the risk, for all you know, I could've killed you first and asked questions later. I need to know why.”

“Because you are Wolfsbane, the hunter of predators, the greatest assassin of the era, besides...” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “The Alpha of the Arnia werewolves, Thane Darkwood, has a debt to repay, and I think you are my best shot at repaying it.”

“And that is worth your life?”

“My life and more if I can drag that scoundrel down with me. So,” He said, extending his hand, “Do we have a deal?”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then went to clasp his hand in hers, his hand was rough, used to handling the smooth handle of diverse weapons. Quick as a flash, Natasha twisted, until she was behind him and a knife was at his throat, she moved it close, until the sharp point was pricking his skin. “One last question, how am I sure you aren't one of them?”

He smiled at that, as if a knife wasn't at his throat. He whispered, his scent of trees and forests flowing off him. “You don't, isn't that fun?”

She grunted, pushing him away, he stumbled, then righted himself, putting a hand to his neck where a thin line of blood flowed, “I suppose that's a yes, then?” He asked, and Natasha wondered what she would have to do to wipe that smile off his face.

“Fine, I agr........” Natasha was interrupted mid speech by the sound of her alarm, she had set it as a bird cooing twice, but in a distinct way no bird in the area could sound. Natasha stiffened, the alarm was set to sound only on one condition. She ran to the window, her entire body protesting, but she had to see, she had to be sure.