The night I belonged to the shadow king

POV: Sienna Another night… Another win. You would have thought I should be proud? Wrong. Why? Because the victory wasn't the main reason I was here. I banged the door behind me, dumping my gloves on the bench and giving a weary sigh. The odor of sweat and cheap disinfectant pervaded the room and the slight metallic odor of blood. Mine, maybe. Or someone else's. At this point, it didn't matter. I took a towel out of my locker and wiped my face, and gazed at myself in the broken mirror on the other side of the room. Victory in this case was nothing. Not because I realized that I was not one of them. I was an imposter. I sat and started unwrapping my hands, and in my mind I was already thinking of the next thing, go home, cleanup, write the fake report to the organization and then possibly sleep four hours before repeating the whole process. That was the routine. Win, smile, snoop around, ensure I do not get caught, survive. When I began to put my wraps into my bag, I heard the door creaking behind me—my sharpened hearing picking up the hinge's faint whine before it even swung open. “And still, going on, huh, Sienna?” I glanced up, annoyed. Great. Small talk after a fight, just what I wanted. It was Mara, one of the other ring girls. I forced a smile. "Yeah, I guess." She stepped further in. “Since you came here you have been doing great. I do not mean that anybody fights like you. It is as though you were professionally trained or something.” I continued to fold my things, feigning distraction. "Just hard work, Mara." She laughed—that artificial, high-pitched laugh which always made me feel like rolling my eyes. "Hard work, huh? That's your secret?""Yup." I zipped my bag shut. Early mornings, late nights and a lot of caffeine. I attempted to pass by her, but she stepped into my path smiling as though she had just found something to show me. "What's the rush? You were afraid that I would get to know what sort of an organization you were trained in?" My heart stopped—my pulse thundering in my ears like a predator's roar. I stood in a paralyzed stance with the strap of my bag. I raised my eyes slowly to meet her, but I managed to look confused. "What are you talking about?" Her head was tilted, and her grin increased. "Oh, come on. Drop the act, Sienna. You think I didn't notice? I borrowed your jacket, you see, the black one with the secret pocket, while you were away last week. And guess what I found?" I swallowed hard. "You went through my things?" "Relax,"she said with a smirk. "I was just curious. However, when I discovered a small badge with a pleasant little logo on it, I was surprised. And a microchip." My heart was now beating hard in my ears. I felt my stomach twist, instincts clawing at the edges of my control. She moved nearer, and spoke in a low tone. "You are not a mere fighter, right? You're a spy. A small rat employed by somebody." I kept my face still,Calm, and Cold. Just like they trained me. "You must be mistaken." Her smile turned cruel. "No mistake. And you know what's funny? I suppose Vincent Kane would give a fortune to have him know he has an undercover agent sniffing about his pack's business." That name hit me like a slap. Vincent Kane. The most dreaded shifter in Milan's underworld. Had he discovered my identity, all was at an end. "Don't worry, I'm not cruel. I will not tell him... except, of course, I should get something in return." She chuckled. "And what exactly do you want?" I asked, my voice was low. Pushing the button aside, she shrugged and feigned thought. "Money. Or perhaps you would present to me some one superior. I have always wanted to get out of this dump, you see? You help me, I keep quiet. Deal?" I took a slow breath. My finger dropped into my gym bag and my fingers touched the small black case that was inside. "Deal," I said quietly. Her smirk widened, satisfied. "Good. I realized you were not as stupid as you appeared—"She was not able to complete her sentence. In a flash I had the case open and a little injector pen in my hand. I touched it against her arm, fast and accurate. She gasped, eyes wide. "What the hell—" "It's painless," I said softly. "At least for now." Her knees buckled. She fell back holding her arm. "You—you psycho—what did you do me?" "Nothing personal, Mara," I said, nearly without emotion. "But you are not to have trailed my stuff." She made another attempt to speak, but the words were slurred. She was shaking in a few seconds, her body jerking in spasms and then fell on the cold floor. As soon as the convulsions ceased, I took a rag out of the counter and started wiping everything out. At which point I collected her phone, erased the recent few calls, and threw it next to her. Cause of death:unknown. Maybe heart failure. Maybe nothing at all. By the time I got out of the changing room nobody even bothered to give me a second look. It is just another combatant coming home after a long night. Outside, the air was cool. I drew my jacket closer to me and continued walking to my car. I didn't regret. I was not ashamed of killing a person. I just drove home. There was too much silence in my apartment when I entered. I threw my bag onto the couch, undressed and entered the shower. The bathroom was filled with steam by the moment I got out. I grabbed a towel and used it to cover myself and grabbed my phone. It was buzzing on the counter. Unknown number. No, not unknown. Just unmarked. My work phone. I hesitated for a moment, and replied. "This is Sienna." Only a single voice was on the other end. “Report to headquarters, at once, over.” Marco Hale said.