Caeda: The Death Blow
by demented20
The beautiful assassin tries her hand at love and happiness, but  finds out that her hands are better suited to killing.

I made a little mistake on the last chapter... It should have said New Years Day 2005 not '04, I'm going to pretend like it didn't happen. On with the story...

Be good", Amaris Johanssen told Elskede, her cat, as she closed the door behind her. She adjusted the straps of her backpack, then began skipping down the hall. She didn't realize that she was skipping until she was halfway to the stairs. She turned quickly when Mrs. Havasu's door opened.

"Good morning, Dearie", Mrs. Havasu called out.

"Oh, good morning", Amaris greeted her neighbor. Amaris had a huge smile on her beautiful face, and her pale blue eyes shined like fresh snowflakes.

"I didn't want anything", Mrs. Havasu began. She took a long look at Amaris. "You look nice", Mrs. Havasu asserted with a chuckle.

Amaris looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a tight matching leather outfit, but instead of her usual black. This one was white and red complete with a white and red choker around her neck and the medal of St. Jude set in the front. She looked up and laughed. "I'm glad you like it."

"So, are you going to meet up with a certain young man?", Mrs. Havasu inquired.

Amaris giggled then caught herself. When was the last time she'd giggled? "As a matter of fact I am."

"You two have a good time, and be safe."

"See you later!", Amaris called out and continued down the hall and down the steps.

Mrs. Havasu closed her door and leaned against the door frame. She was too happy to smile. Mrs. Havasu knew that Amaris fought a battle daily against the demons that haunted for reasons she kept to herself. Mrs. Havasu had never wanted to know the nature of Amaris' pain. She had only wanted the young woman to love living again. Mrs. Havasu had been fighting a losing battle, but now she had help. She hoped Russell was up to the challenge.

Half an hour later Amaris was in Washington Square Park with her pencils and her sketch pad. She usually didn't think much of her drawings, but when she was honest with herself, she had to admit that they weren't bad. She had drawn a couple of people so far, but no one that she would like to sculpt later. This was a great place to get inspiration for the art she made. She had been doing more and more sculpting recently. She had just finished a life sized statue for a hotel in Vermont. It had been a while since she had done something that big. Today though, inspiration was slow in coming. She took a break for lunch, but she was back on the same bench by the early afternoon scanning for good subjects. Some of the young men in the park made it their business to glance at Amaris as she sat on there. She had taken her leather jacket off, and she wore only wearing a sleeveless t-shirt beneath. She wasn't trying to be provocative, but Amaris' looks had been attracting attention for a very long time. It was even more alluring that she didn't seem to be concerned with the eyes on her. She was too busy looking for a good subject. Then she saw a woman from the corner of her eye.

Her interest was piqued by the woman's shape and her walk. Amaris turned her head slightly to get a better look. This woman had the sort of shape that made men have bad thoughts. Her outfit hugged the curves of her flawless figure. Her breasts, waist, and hips were so perfectly proportioned that Amaris wondered if she was 100% natural. The woman's long dark hair fell towards her lower back and framed a beautiful face. She pushed a few locks over her shoulder as she walked across the plaza. She moved with so much confidence and authority. She didn't look menacing or dangerous, not to Amaris' eyes, but it seemed like she commanded the space around her. She had nice style too. From her high necked sweater to her tight designer denims to her Italian boots, this woman knew how to impress without looking like she was trying. Amaris felt a wave of jealousy, but she laughed it off. She wanted to sketch this very attractive woman, but she was moving too quickly. She sighed and looked at her watch. She had about an hour until Russell got off from work. He was taking off early so they could spend some time together, and she had promised to pick him up. So, she started packing her sketch pad and pencils, but she looked up when she felt the woman approaching.

"Can I help you?", Amaris asked.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was coming from the campus and I saw you sitting here. I just had to come over. Are you a student here at NYU?" The woman seemed hesitant.

Amaris zipped her bag while she answered, "No, I went to 'Nova. I just love it here in the park. Lots of good subjects."

"Oh, an artist then?"

"I try", Amaris answered cautiously. She wasn't used to being approached like this.

"I don't want to hold you up", the woman began. "I don't do this often, like I said, but I saw you from across the way and just had to come over."

'Uh oh', Amaris thought to herself as she tried to come up with a very nice way to explain that she wasn't a lesbian when the woman continued.

"I saw your face and your look, and thought to myself that you have a face the camera would love. You could sell a lot of products."

"Thanks, I guess."

There was a very awkward pause before the woman shook her head. "I am such an idiot. I own an advertising company. My name is Lisa, Lisa Sanchez." Lisa extended her hand.

"Amaris Johanssen", she replied as she shook Lisa's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Amaris. You could be a star if you wanted to be."

Amaris smiled bashfully and looked down towards the ground.

"Oh my God, perfect. You're a natural. Those eyes, this bone structure, the body, and the look. If you knew me, you'd know that I'm not usually this enthusiastic."

"And I'm not usually dressed like this", Amaris countered.

"I can see past that. Besides you have a sense of style. I can tell." Lisa rubbed her chin. "I can see you in the perfect outfit with a billowing white background. You would look angelic."

Amaris laughed. "I am most certainly no angel. And thanks for the offer, but I don't think I want to do any more modeling. I did some a few years ago when I was in college. I needed the money."

"That's usually how the good ones get into the business. Well if you change your mind, look me up. My office is in Chicago, but I work here in New York often." Lisa pulled out a business card and handed it to Amaris, who put it in her bag, then they parted ways. She had no intentions of calling the number. The last thing Amaris needed was her face plastered all over town. At least she knew her job had yet to take a toll on her looks. It would one day, but not yet. She put that thought out of her mind. She had a surprise for Russell. She took a taxi to a long term garage in Midtown. It cost a small fortune to park near her apartment, and only slightly less to keep her vehicles parked in this place.

She and Russell had planned to get out of the city for a day since the weather was getting nice, but like always Amaris was full of surprises. She had picked Russell up in her powder blue new Beetle before. He thought it was so cute, and it was, but he should have known that the woman who called herself Caeda wouldn't just have a VW.

Amaris started down into the darkened underworld of the garage with her bag slung over one shoulder. The camera had seen her as she entered the structure. That was another reason she loved this garage. It had good security. One of the garage attendants came up to meet her after she got inside.

"Hey, Amaris", the attendant greeted her.

"Hey, Joey. How are things?"

"Same ole same ole. You still won't go out on a date with me", he said with a goofy smile.

"Not yet, Joey, but keep trying. You might catch me in a moment of weakness."

Joey staggered back with his hand over his heart. "You wound me so deeply." They both laughed. "So, you here for the car?"

Amaris titled her head to the side and swept her hand down her body. "Does it look like I'm here for the car?"

Joey noted his error. "Just give me a minute." He turned and ran into the dark vastness of the garage. A few minutes later he reappeared pushing Amaris' other vehicle. He had to struggle a little get the custom painted red and white Yamaha YZF-R1 up the incline. "This what you looking for?"

Amaris grinned. "Isn't she beautiful." Amaris had recently replaced her old Suzuki with this bike, and she couldn't be happier. She took it from Joey who handed her both helmets that she kept in storage with her motorcycle. She put her white and red helmet on her head, and hooked the other to the rear of the bike. She started the engine and walked the bike towards the sidewalk.

"Hey, Amaris, you gonna let me ride that bike one day?"

"Nope, but thanks for asking." Amaris dropped down her tinted visor, put the bike in first, then torqued the throttle. The engine cranked to an ear splitting wine, and she left a trail of thick black rubber behind her until she was in the middle of the street, then she pulled up the front and held the wheelie until she got to the red light. She waved at Joey over her shoulder before she turned the corner and merged into Manhattan traffic.

"You seem pretty damn high", Russell's boss Mr. Wilson said as Russell shut down his computer. "Got a date?"

"Sure do, and she's hotter than the watch you bought from that guy outside the subway station." Russell started towards the elevator. Mr. Wilson frowned and looked at the watch. Maybe it was hot, but he didn't care. He'd gotten it for 20 bucks.

Russell hurried from the building at a trot, then he stopped with a confused look on his face. He scanned the front of the building for his girlfriend's blue Volkswagen. He looked down at this watch then back towards the street. He got worried. Amaris was never late. Something must be wrong. He turned back towards the building when he heard a loud whistle.

"Come on lets go!", Amaris called out to Russell. He approached cautiously. He couldn't see a face because of the helmet, but he could make out Amaris' body in that tight white and red outfit. He'd know that slim, sexy, and deceptively strong body anywhere.

"What's this?", Russell asked as she handed him a helmet. This one was more red than white.

"This is my bike. You like it?"

"Umm, what happened to the Beetle?", Russell asked and slowly climbed onto the back.

She cranked the engine, and they started towards the curb of the oversized sidewalk that she wasn't supposed to be on in the first place. "Nothing happened to my Beetle. I still have it."

"Then what's up with this thing?" Amaris could hear some fear and anticipation in his voice. She loved it.

She pulled her visor up and turned to face her boyfriend. "Russell you know me well enough to know that a VW would only scratch one itch. This baby scratches another." With that, she pulled out into traffic and sped down the avenue until the next traffic light. Russell was more than nervous for the first few blocks until he realized that he wasn't going to fall off. He had his hands around Amaris tight little midsection as they rode. At a traffic light, Russell found the courage to speak. "Hey, before we go, I need to stop over near your neck of the woods."

Amaris' lips twisted under her visor. She was ready to get out of town, but she turned around and headed back towards Greenwich Village. The Jefferson Market Library bell was striking 2 as Amaris pulled her motorcycle to the front of the Ascension Episcopal Church.

"Okay, Russell, why exactly are you stopping here?"

Russell had removed his helmet and set it down on the seat. "I have to talk to a friend inside. Why don't you come in? You'd love it in there. The art work is great. Well, that's what they tell me because I don't know the first thing about art, but its a beautiful church."

"I'll wait right here. Just don't take too long."

"Oh come on inside. I want you to meet Hank. He's a great guy."

Amaris pulled the helmet off and ran her hands through her hair. "I'd rather wait here", she repeated in firmer tone.

Russell frowned. "Why won't you come in with me?"

Amaris sighed and folded her hands across her handle bars. "I'd just rather not go inside."

Russell started to speak, but then it hit him. "Because its a church?"

Amaris didn't respond, but her eyes had already given him the answer.

"Because its a church. You mean you believe in..."

"Yeah, I guess so. Strange I know, considering what I do for a living. It would probably be easier if I didn't, but anyway, go talk to your friend. You can even bring him out to meet me if you want. Baring some catastrophe, I'll be right here when you come out."

Russell was disappointed and confused as he walked towards the church office. Just when he thought he had Amaris figured out, she'd surprised him again. Russell had gone inside to get tickets to a special VIP only performance of the Metropolitan Opera. Russell didn't know much about painting and even less about opera, but he figured that Amaris would like it. He tucked the tickets away where she wouldn't see them. He got back onto the motorcycle and made a point of squeezing her a little tighter than normal before she started the engine. He wanted her to know that had forgiven her for not coming in with him.

An hour and a half later they were finally out of the city and going through the winding roads of Dutchess County heading towards the Catskills. The traffic wasn't too bad this far north and Amaris had room let the Yamaha stretch is legs. She told Russell to hang on before she let the bike rocket to 100 mph and beyond on the two lane road. Russell closed his eyes at first, but he quickly realized that was actually worse. If he was going to die, he'd much rather see it coming. After a while though, the feeling of speed and freedom had suckered him in. He had always been afraid of riding a motorcycle, but here with Amaris, he felt totally safe. Until she took her eyes off the road, flipped up her visor and turned to talk to him, all while traveling over 100 mph.

"So how do you like the ride?", she yelled over the wind.

"Amaris, what the fuck are you doing!", Russell screamed. "Look at the road!"

It was so easy to get a rise out of him. "Look at the road for what?", she asked as if his demand had been unreasonable.

"Oh my God!" Russell stammered and tried to point. "Look--!!"

"Oh you mean the road's about to curve." Amaris leaned to her left and expertly negotiate the curve before it straightened out. "What was that you were saying, Russell?", Amaris asked him while still looking at him. "Isn't this fun?"

"C--Cccc Car!", Russell yelled and pointed, but he was too afraid to take his hands from around her waist for long.

Amaris rolled her eyes, and she once again leaned left then right to go around a slow moving car. She laughed hysterically. "You are such a baby!" She turned to face the road even though it was totally unnecessary. She took Russell to a place in the park off the beaten path. They spent a restful afternoon there before heading back to the city. They had a wonderful night planned. It would start that way, but it would end with both of them in tears.

"You could have killed me earlier", Russell called out. He was standing in Amaris' living room, and she was in the kitchen. "Look, I know you have perfect balance, and you can feel your environment, but why'd you have to do that to me?"

Amaris put the last of the pots in the dishwasher and stood up straight. "Because I knew you would turn white as a sheet, and you did."

Russell could only imagine how stupid he had looked. "It still wasn't right." She had gotten him pure and simple. He was thinking of a way to get her back when he idly looked on her end table and saw a business card that looked familiar. He couldn't remember where he had seen it until he picked it up. When he read it, a chill crept up his spine.

"Amaris! Why do you have Lisa Sanchez's card?"

She frowned as she washed her hands. "Because she gave it to me earlier", she answered quickly. "Do you know her?"

Russell's hand was shaking as he held the card. He wanted to, but he couldn't believe her. He felt so ashamed of himself, but he couldn't believe her, not yet. "Yes, I know her. You aren't going to.... you know, she isn't one of your..."

"Contracts?", Amaris finished for him as she entered the room drying her hands. "No, Russell, I told you once. I met her in the park before I picked you up. Why are you so worked up? If she was a contract, I wouldn't have left that just laying around."

"Lisa's my cousin's girlfriend, and has been for more than a year." He held the card up and looked Amaris in her light blue eyes. "Would you tell me the truth if she was a contract?"

Amaris had a contemplative look on her face. "Since you seem so concerned about her safety, yeah I would."

That made Russell relax. He believed her now. "Its not just her safety. It's yours too. Lisa's not normal."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that just like you and I are gifted, she's gifted too. And from what my cousin tells me, to the extreme."

"Hmm." Amaris shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't matter. She's not a contract, just a woman who thought I would make a good model."

Russell smiled at Amaris and took her around the waist. "She told you that? Well she doesn't mince words, and she's one of the best in the business."

"I'm not modeling, and you know that, but if you're a good boy, I might let you take a picture or two."

"I'll be your dog", Russell exclaimed and got down on his knees then proceeded to bark. Elskede looked around for the dog. He'd had a bad experience with a dog before.

"Stand up before I make you sleep outside."

They ended up on her sofa. Russell sat up while Amaris lay with her head and back on his chest and the rest of her body stretched out. She had a glass of nice red wine on the coffee table and Elskede was rubbing against her feet. She felt as content as she had in a very long time. She was so content and so relaxed that she hadn't even put her choker and Saint Jude medal back on after she had changed clothes. As they lay on the sofa, Russell stroked his thumb back and forth across the top of her head watching her short styled dark hair stand the wrong way before falling back in place. "You ever think of letting your hair grow out?"

She shifted a little to get comfortable before she answered. "I used to have long hair, but I cut it off. I had a reason to keep it short then, and I do now. Who knows, one day I might let it grow back, but I doubt it."

He smiled and played with her hair for a while before his hand went further down her face to her neck. He lightly traced the scar at the base of her neck. Much of the original scar had faded, but he could see where the worst of the wound had been.

"Did you get this in an accident?", he asked hoping she would say yes.

"No, the guy who gave me this scar did it on purpose", she answered in a normal tone of voice. She kept the emotions buried inside her.

"Did you pay him back in kind?"

Amaris shook her head thinking back on it. "Never got the chance. Besides, I didn't know how to fight back then."

"If you ever saw him again, I'd have to turn away wouldn't I."

Amaris chuckled. "You'd probably have to go a couple of blocks away so you wouldn't be able to hear his screams. Men make funny sounds when you flay them alive."

"My God, Amaris. You've flayed a guy?"

She laughed again. "You are so easy to sucker. No, I haven't flayed a guy. I'm not a torturer even though I know how."

"I can't believe I'm asking all this stuff."

She took his hand and held it. "Don't worry. I won't let you get sucked too far into my own private hell." Her thoughts got away from her then. She kept thinking what a good person Russell was. He didn't deserve to hang around a dark soul like her.

He seemed not to notice her mood. He reached out and handed her the glass of wine before he took a sip from his own glass. She drank with the glass in her left hand and then she set it on the table with her right. "I've been meaning to ask you this. Since I've known you, I've seen you eat and write with either hand. You've told me that you can shoot and throw knives with either hand. Are you right handed her left handed? I want to know!"

She didn't say anything. He frowned and looked down at her. She had a frown on her face as she thought about it. "I'm left handed", she answered after a time.

"I didn't think it was that hard a question."

Amaris laughed. "It was." She shifted to make it easier to look up at him. "I had to think all the way back to when I was a child with the big fat crayons. I started coloring with my left hand, but I've been able to use either hand since I was in kindergarten at least."

Russell sighed after her laugher ended. "There is so much I don't know about you. You just keep it all bottled up inside."

"Hey, I'll tell you", Amaris began. She reached up and ran her hand across his cheek. "Its not easy for me, but if you ask the right questions, I'll tell you about myself."

Russell looked down at her. "You said you used to live in Pittsburgh, but I don't even know where you're from. I don't know your parents' names, or anything. Its like you grew up in a vacuum."

Her tight smile hid her true emotions. Russell didn't understand that inside Amaris' mind, all her happy memories had horrible and tragic memories attached them. When he tried to pluck out a good thought, he only succeeded in dredging up bad thoughts. Amaris would answer him though, and hope that he changed the subject. Her past was something she didn't want to talk about.

"I was born in Grand Forks, North Dakota, but we moved when I was little to Terre Haute, Indiana before we settled in Pittsburgh. Satisfied... oh wait. My father's name was Donald, and my mother's name was Annalise folks called her Anna... I just called her Mommy." She exhaled and downed the last of her wine.

Russell was ashamed when he looked down at her face. That had hurt her so much, and he hadn't meant for it to be that way. He just wanted to know her past. He had, at first, believed that she kept her past a secret because of her job as an assassin, but now he realized how wrong he had been. She need to get the memories out, but now wasn't the right time.

"I'm sorry", Russell couldn't keep the regret from his voice. "I had no idea how you felt. You said before that you had a happy childhood, I thought you would want to talk about that stuff so we could know more about each other."

Amaris threw her glass on the table and jumped to her feet. "I don't need your sympathy, Russell, or your pathetic half hearted psycho-babble. For your information, my parents loved me unconditionally, and I loved them back. I loved my brothers too! My childhood was wonderful, but it ended when I was nine years old!" She was getting more upset the more she talked. "This scar! I was a little girl with the long hair you talked about so much. I was a smiling happy little girl when some guy slit my throat open! Do you know what that does to a little kid's mind when somebody tries to kill them?"

"Amaris, I'm so sorry. If I had known-"

She held up her finger to his lips. "No! You don't want to know! You don't ever want to know!" Her face was red and tears were already welling in her eyes. "I trusted you. I trusted you with my feelings. I opened up more to you than I have to anybody in years. I thought that you of all people would know how to make me feel good. It was working, or I thought it was. I felt so great today. Better than I have in a really long time, but you know what. I think I was better off before I met you."

"Oh come on, Amaris don't say that."

"Why not! Its true. I might have been sullen most days, but I never felt this bad, this hurt, this vulnerable."

Russell took a step closer to her and reached out his arms, but she pushed him away. He stumbled towards the sofa. He put a hand down to balance himself. "Don't be like this. I made a mistake. We all do."

Amaris was more than upset, she was hurt. "Yeah, we all make mistakes, but I'm going to correct one right now." She pushed Russell again, this time harder. He flipped over the arm of the sofa and landed with a thud on the hardwood floor. He scrambled to his feet. "Please, Amaris, don't do this."

"Just get out." This wasn't the first time she had put him out, but it would be the last. "Take your stuff and get out."

Russell rubbed his sore shoulder that had hit the floor. "I understand how you f---"

Amaris' punch was so fast that Russell hadn't even seen her arm move, and so hard that his vision went white. A thick droplet of blood fell to her floor.

"You don't understand how I feel, and I'm tired of telling you that you won't ever understand. I thought you could care for me now, who I am now. Who knows, maybe even make me change. I don't love what I do. I thought I might try a relationship, but nope. I'll never have any luck there, I guess." She stepped towards Russell with that dangerous mix of power and swagger that she displayed when she was on a contract.

Russell put his hand out in front of his body to keep her at a distance, but she slapped it out of the way and pushed him towards the door. "I'm not going!", Russell stated. "You'll have to kill me to get rid of me, I meant that when I said it before." Amaris paused for an instant, and Russell felt real fear. He could use his power to stop her, but she could kill him before he could project on her. He had to get his own emotions under control, and right now he couldn't. He felt so much for this woman, and yet he was afraid of her at the same time. He knew that she was appraising him and coming up with the best way to kill him.

"I'm not going to kill you, Russell. You're a good guy, and you're going to make some woman a good husband one day, but not me. So I'm not going to kill you, but if you stay, you're going to wish that I did."

"I'm not going, no matter what you do!", Russell said defiantly.

That sent Amaris over the edge. She lunged forward and sent a hard blow to the side of his head. The punch sent him reeling. He tried to stay on his feet, but she spun in a tight circle and kicked him in the center of his chest. It felt like she had caused his heart to stop beating. He lay on the ground gasping for air. She leaned over him, and reached down to yank him to his feet but he grabbed her wrists and held tightly. She dropped a knee to the center of his stomach, and he lost all strength in his grip. She grabbed him by the shirt and with a combination grunt and yell she yanked him up and slid him towards the door. He used the wall to climb unsteadily to his feet.

His face was already beginning to swell and blood ran from two cuts. "I'm not going!", he managed.

Amaris' face turned dark with anger and she lashed out. She had been toying with him, but she hit him for real now. Two blows to the body and three to the head finished Russell. He was completely unconscious for a couple of minutes. When he finally came to, he saw Amaris standing with her arms crossed. "Get out Russell, I don't want to hurt you anymore, but I will."

"I'll go", he croaked, and gave up. She opened the door and he mostly crawled his way into the hall. Amaris closed the door behind him. She cried that night, but not for what he had done to her or for what she had done to him. She cried, because even through all the hurt, she realized that she had just thrown away her last chance at love.

Two days later, Amaris was walking through her apartment with her cat at her heels. She was restless, still upset that things hadn't worked out with Russell, and a little ashamed that she had beat him up. That had probably been unnecessary, but that was already done, and Russell was out of her life. For the first time in a long time, Amaris went to her special laptop with some anticipation. She used to anticipate contracts because she needed the money. That was no longer the case, but she was anticipating now because it would be something to do. She had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be a killer until somebody killed her. She had taken a chance on a way out, and had failed, spectacularly. If this was her destiny then so be it.

She powered up the laptop and scanned for contracts for Caeda exclusively. There was only one, against a guy named Prentice de Silva. She didn't bother to read it past the name. She went outside on a cell phone that would only make one call, and accepted the contract. It wasn't until later, that she would regret her haste.

The next day Amaris sat on her bed with her legs folded under her and the laptop out in front. Elskede had been a little less frisky for a couple of days since her break with Russell, but he was sitting next to his mistress when she finally read the contract that she had already accepted.

Elskede was used to his owner's moods and emotions. They had been together for six years now. She had moved off campus while a senior at Villanova so she could bring Elskede from Chet's house in West Virginia. There wasn't a creature on the planet that knew Amaris' moods better than Elskede, but even he had never seen her moods swing this violently this often. He moved from next to her, to across the bed when he felt her mood once again turning pitch black.

Amaris couldn't contain the boiling caldron of anger inside her. She jumped from the bed and went to her special trunk that held all her equipment. She pulled out another cell phone package. She was only wearing a t-shirt and panties so she wasn't going outside. She didn't want to get dressed either. She was so mad that she broke with her protocol and made the call from inside her apartment.

"Hello Caeda", this handler greeted her. She was working for the second of the guilds this time. Instead of Zurich, this guy was based in Damascus.

"This contract 5478-v1-45, since when does the client get to choose the manner of death?"

"Since always, Caeda, you know that", the man said in an even tone. He had worked with enough assassins to know how high strung they could be. "You are a smart woman. You know the rules."

He was right. She did know the rules even if she didn't like them. She was just mad. Nothing had gone her way, and it was getting frustrating. She needed a victory, even if it was a symbolic one. "I want $500,000 more."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!", Caeda yelled into the phone. "I want $500,000 more on top of what the premium contract calls for, or I'm going to make it open ended."

That caused the handler to frown. She knew the rules all right. An open ended contract was one that the assassin could do at his or her own leisure with no negative marks on their record, but it did show up as negative on the guild's books. He couldn't let that happen. His bosses would be pissed. "Caeda, it would cost you $100,000 up front to make this contract open ended."

"I know that, and don't test me. I'll fucking cut my nose to spite my face, and you know it."

She heard the handler draw in a breath. "Ok, you've got the money. Just complete the contract. The extra money has already been sent to your account in a show of good faith."

"Faith? What do you and me know about faith?" She hung up the phone and tossed it on her bed. She rubbed her hands across her face and over her head. She had 'won' her argument, but she was still agitated and restless. She wasn't sure if it was the contract making her feel this way, or everything else. Either way, she had to get to work and get this over with.

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Clemente's Restaurant was a fixture in Elizabeth, NJ. The current proprietor, Eric was the third generation to run the place, and he had not only kept up the high standards of the food, he had expanded the business. He was a little nervous this night though. He felt in some ways that this was a return to the bad old days of the 40's and 50's when Eric's father had been forced to cater to mobsters and thugs on a regular basis. Eric had tried hard to get away from that reputation, but Prentice de Silva had rented Clemente's Restaurant to celebrate his wedding. Eric didn't think that it was much of a wedding. Prentice had disgraced his first wife by moving his mistress into their home. He'd had the divorce papers served to her while she was in the hospital recovering from a mild heart attack, that she'd suffered as they were pulling her from the home where she had lived in for 20 years. Prentice De Silva had laughed all the way to court, because most of his assets didn't show up on the books. He moved more drugs in a day than some pushers moved in a year. The man was a billionaire, but officially he was only a millionaire; so his wife and children got what in his terms was a pittance.

The divorce settlement hadn't been completely recorded before he had applied for a marriage license for himself and his new bride. She was a pretty young woman to be sure, but she was as shrewd as her new husband. She had plans for this man and his money. She had stalked him, and she had hooked him. She sat next to her new husband in a sexy off white wedding dress enjoying the attention and the compliments of the guests. The party lasted late into the night. Near midnight, people started saying their final good-byes, and slowly the restaurant was beginning to empty.

Eric Clemente was in his kitchen area as he watched a group of guests and their bodyguards leaving his restaurant. He stuck his head out of the door and waved good-bye to them and invited them back any time. He hoped that on some level they realized just how hollow his words were. "Ok, you guys, can leave. I'll take care of the rest of this." Eric dismissed his staff. They had done good work, and everything had gone off without a hitch, but these people had lives, and the restaurant was almost out of food anyway. Eric went out to talk to Prentice and thank him for choosing his restaurant. Prentice was gracious and handed Eric a $10,000 tip for the staff and another $5000 for him personally. Eric took the money, but it did little to change his opinion of the man.

Eric grimaced as he started into his kitchen through the swinging door. Two young women had climbed atop tables and were dancing. He was fairly certain that was going to end badly, he just didn't know how bad. He went through the kitchen door and started to put the money down on a table when he felt the coarse tip of a knife press into the soft flesh of his throat. His body went stiff with fright. He held his hands up in the air, but didn't make a sound.

"Good", Caeda told him softly, as she kept the blade of her trusty ka-bar pressed gently against his throat. She lead him towards the cooler. "Open it", she ordered him in a voice hardly above a whisper. He pulled the handle and tugged the door open. "Stay in here and be quiet. I'll let you out when I'm finished." Caeda didn't push him inside. She let him walk. She closed the door before he turned around. She attached the lock then looked down at the ground with a sigh. This was going to get messy. She just didn't know how messy and how quickly.

As Caeda was shutting the door on Eric, one of the young women atop the table stepped a little too far to her right and spilled the remaining contents of a wine bottle onto Prentice's pants leg.

"Aw look at this fucking shit!" Prentice yelled.

The young woman saw her life flash before her eyes as Prentice and his new bride looked up at her at her. She had been trying to get a little attention for herself, but not this kind. The other girl quietly got off the table and melted into the shadows before sneaking out the back leaving her friend alone.

"Its okay, young lady", Prentice began with a tone of forced calm. "Just come down from there." He stood up from his seat and extended a hand to help the young woman from the table. "Hey, go get some towels from the bathroom. Its going to be all right."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it--"

Prentice held up a hand to stop her. "Young lady, we know you were trying to keep the party going and provide these single men with a little entertainment. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir. I want everybody to have a good time."

Prentice looked around at the men in the room. Most of the men still there were associates of his or bodyguards. Most of the regular guests had left. "Were you guys enjoying her show?", Prentice asked them. They clapped loudly and showered the young lady with cat calls.

She smiled nervously and looked at all the faces around her. "See, young lady. What's your name?"

"Cindy, but I dance at your club under the name Destiny."

"Ah you dance at my club, okay, well that's very nice. Don't worry about the tux. That's what they make dry cleaners for." Prentice motioned for one of his men to come and take Cindy. She was scared, but trying to put on a brave face. "Here please take care of Miss Cindy and get her something for her nerves." The man escorted her off the table. Prentice went back towards his seat, but took Jocko, one of his chief lieutenants by the arm. "Find something get this shit off my pants. Go talk to that Clemente asshole, he might have something. And I want you to let the boys have their way with that little bitch. Run a train or whatever they want to do. Just do it."

Jocko nodded. "I don't think she'll be able to make her shift at the club when we're done."

Prentice slapped the man on the back. "I knew I could trust you."

Jocko whispered something to one of the bodyguards, and the man lead Cindy towards the cars parked behind the restaurant. He whispered to three more of the boys on the way out the door, and they peeled off to follow. Some of them were already grabbing their crotches because Cindy was young and pretty, but she wouldn't be too pretty when they were finished. If they let her live after they were finished.

In the kitchen, Caeda stood by the cooler with her hands hanging at her sides. It was unusual for her to feel anything other than complete control during a contract. There were always variables and unexpected circumstances, but as she stood in that kitchen, she felt overwhelmed and unsettled. She felt like she was on automatic, as if she was watching someone else going through the motions of completing the contract. The chosen manner of death didn't help. Caeda had never actually used this method of death before, although she was more than sure that she could do it. It was going to be painful and gruesome for him, unpleasant and tiring for her. It would also require that she get Prentice de Silva alone. Prentice had lots of bodyguards and some of them were actually good. Caeda tried to picture herself completing the contract. It usually helped focus her mind, but this time, it made her afraid. She wasn't even sure what she feared. Death had been a constant companion for the last four and a half years. There was no need to be afraid of dying now, especially when she had made such a mess of her regular life.

Caeda sighed and went to the electrical panel. Turning off the lights was the only chance of getting Prentice out of the restaurant. She turned slightly and opened the long cumbersome panel door. There was no quiet way to open the door, but no one was around to hear it. She sighed again as she she stood there. She was really not looking forward to this. She was about to reach her hand up to pull the main breaker when the swinging door opened quickly.

"Hey, Clemente! Got lemon juice or something? Some broad spilled drink on--", Jocko began as he pushed the door open. For an instant, everything stopped. He had expected to see Eric, but instead he saw a figure in black standing not 5 feet from him.

Caeda paused too. She had let someone get the drop on her. She had to kill this man quickly and quietly. Her hand flashed towards the silenced pistol strapped to her leg, but Jocko hadn't made it this far in the underworld by being timid or slow. Instead of reaching for his weapon, he reached for Caeda. The pistol cleared the holster, but Jocko's left hand caught Caeda's wrist before she could raise the gun, and his right hand was on her neck in a flash as well. He slammed Caeda's still healing right wrist against the countertop making her drop her pistol. With that done, he wrapped all ten of his fingers around Caeda's slender neck and lifted her completely off her feet.

The instant pain made Caeda's face flush beneath her hood. Something inside Caeda told her to not even fight back, but her instincts took over. She extended both her arms and chopped Jocko on his temples. He lost his grip, but he wasn't finished. He shoved Caeda back several feet with a mighty swipe of his short thick arm. Their hands fought for control and for leverage. It looked comical for two people, who were alive because of their fighting skill, to be slapping hands with each other, but Jocko caught the first break. Caeda's hand hit a cabinet handle. Jocko grabbed her again. He lifted her off the ground and threw her back as hard as he could.

She was standing in front of a three basin sink, and it wouldn't have been so bad but the faucet was facing out. Caeda's body arched, and she let out a little yelp of pain. The force was so much that the faucet bent. That much pain made Caeda gasp, but unfortunately for Jocko, it also made her focus. All emotion left her eyes, and all the tension that had been in her body was gone. She was once again fluid and dangerous.

Jocko's face was full of anger and intent, but Caeda no longer worried about him. He was already dead. She just hoped it wasn't too late for her to complete her contract. Jocko started to yank Caeda from the sink. He didn't know that she already had the instrument of his death in her hands. Caeda's hand had inadvertently touched the handle of a boning knife just after the jarring impact with the faucet. She had the knife in her hand now, and instantly brought the knife up. The blade slid into the side of Jocko's neck very easily. The blade met some resistance about four inches in, but she shoved it the rest of the way then hopped to her feet from the sink. Once she was on her feet, she took the knife again, twisted, then yanked it out roughly. Blood sprayed from Jocko's mouth in all directions as he staggered about wild eyed and frantic. She jumped to the side to avoid the spray. Jocko's eyes focused on Caeda as he fell to his knees. He looked at her and began to panic as he bled out. Caeda didn't feel sorry for him really, although he hadn't been her target, but everybody had to go sometime.

"This shit's starting to dry", Prentice began then pointed at the bodyguard standing closest to the kitchen. "PJ, go see what the hell is taking Jocko so long."

PJ nodded and rushed to the door. He pushed his way inside and froze. The kitchen was empty except for a woman dressed in black. He knew that it was a woman from her fine shape, looking closer he saw Jocko's dead body slumped at the woman's feet.

"What the fuck!" were the last words PJ would ever say.

Caeda's left hand flashed out and a throwing knife flew towards PJ. He never saw it, only felt it when it hit him high in the neck. Blood frothed to his mouth and he fell backwards out of the kitchen into the restaurant. Caeda sighed when she heard screams from the people in the dining area. It was about to get very messy out there. She started walking towards the kitchen door. PJ's legs were kicking and his body was shaking as he lay dying. Caeda hurried towards the door now. After a few steps, she was trotting, and then running. She had no to time to lose.

The remaining guests in the diner recoiled from the sight of a man dying before their eyes while the bodyguards went into action. Several high profile guests had their own private security. They jumped to action. They spirited their charges towards the nearest exit. Only Prentice de Silva's men ran towards the kitchen. It was one of their men who lay dying. Two of de Silva's men ran towards the kitchen leaving only one next to him. His new bride took him by the arm and he took her. Prentice pushed the table over while getting to his feet. Whoever had killed PJ had most likely killed Jocko and that was no easy feat. While PJ was young, Jocko was a tough and very experienced man. Prentice regretted sending some of his boys out to punish young Cindy because he could use them about now. Deep down he knew that whoever was in the kitchen had come to this restaurant for him.

The two men stopped for an instant to check PJ, but he was dead before they even felt for a pulse. The two men pulled guns, but only one would ever get a chance to fire it. Caeda burst through the door, her arm already moving. Her graceful shape was silhouetted by the bright lights of the kitchen as her ka-bar sliced a deep furrow in the side of the first man's neck. The blood ran like a waterfall from the wound. The man dropped his pistol, clutched his neck and went to the ground. The second man pulled the trigger in panic while the barrel was still pointing downward putting an unnecessary hole in PJ's dead body. He turned and ran to gain ground. Caeda's left hand moved then. She reached across her body and pulled out a metal cylinder that looked nothing like a weapon, but when she pushed the small button on the side the clamps released. A practiced flick of her wrist uncoiled the 6 foot long steel whip from inside the heavy cylinder. Caeda raised her arm and snapped forward. The whip wrapped around the fleeing man's leg just below the knee. A normal whip would have simply tripped him, but this whip had dozens of razors and barbs embedded in it. They cut and sliced and bit into his flesh before Caeda pulled back as hard as she could. It rent his leg making an ugly and jagged mess. He fell forward trying in vain to keep his lower leg attached to the rest of his body. He went into shock. People were running about, and Prentice was beside himself. He wasn't a coward. He had made his bones at sixteen year old, but he had never seen killing like this.

Caeda saw a rush of people trying to exit through the same back door. No one tried to go out the front because the kitchen door was on the way to the front door and no one wanted to get near Caeda. She came into the dining area with only one thought on her mind. She was going to kill Prentice de Silva and anybody who got in her way. Guns were drawn, but no one fired at her as she jumped over tables heading straight for de Silva. That put some of the guests more at ease, but the first shot was fired, not by de Silva's remaining bodyguard, but by a man trying to get out the door. More gunshots rang out, and a woman's shrill cry of pain filled the restaurant. She had been shot in the upper thigh and fallen to the ground while the crush of people threatened to trample her. Caeda ignored it all. That was someone else problems. Shouts and curses and even gun fire didn't faze her. Caeda had laid her eyes on Prentice de Silva for the first time, and she was going to kill him.

It didn't take long for Prentice to realize that he was the target. "Shoot her!", he yelled at his guard. The man had the gun in his hand, but hadn't fired. His boss' voice brought him back. He aimed at Caeda. She was coming right at him. She wasn't a big target, but she was an easy target. He put his finger on the trigger and fired, but he had forgetting the first rule of shooting. Never aim where the target was; aim where the target was going to be. Caeda moved to her right, twisting her shoulders and turning her body profile to the bodyguard all the while moving towards him.

When she was close enough, her arm snapped forward again and the whip spun around the guard's lower forearm. Caeda used her entire body to pull the whip back this time. The razors cut through the skin, through the muscle, and sawed through the bone. The guard's hand was still holding the pistol as it flipped in the air several times. The bodyguard sank back and quaked from the pain. He didn't suffer long. Caeda spun towards him bringing her left arm forward in a powerful stab. She pushed a throwing knife deep into the man's chest, and he died.

There was nobody between Caeda and her target. She spun her right hand and jerked the gore covered whip into the cylinder. She wasn't going to kill Prentice with it, although she could have made a death with this weapon very painful. Her client wanted him to die another way.

"Stay away from me!", Prentice yelled and looked around the restaurant, but it was clear except for he and his wife.

Caeda strode towards him with a shroud of death hanging about her. There was no single thing that made her seem dangerous. She had put her whip away so there were no weapons in her hands. She didn't snarl or taunt. She didn't rush or chase. She just walked, and her walk carried with it a promise of a painful end.

Prentice and his wife made a run for the side exit. They started out together and Caeda turned to follow, but only a few steps into their flight for escape, Prentice grabbed his wife and threw her at Caeda to impede her path. Caeda pushed the surprised woman to the side, and lunged at Prentice. He threw his arms up to blocked the punch which left his stomach exposed. Caeda buried her boot deep into his soft middle. Prentice bent over from the blow and started down, but caught himself on a table.

This was it Caeda knew. She had started and there was no stopping until he was dead. The contract called for Caeda to beat Prentice to death. There were to be no puncture wounds or gunshot wounds. He had to die from blunt force. Caeda's face twisted beneath her hood and she punched Prentice as hard as she could. He fell against the table breaking the top from the base. He fell onto his back trying in vain to get up. Caeda took two steps and kicked him in the knee hard. That would make sure he wouldn't run away too quickly.

It had been a long time since Prentice had been forced to fight his own battle, but he hadn't made it to the top of the food chain in the east coast drug trade by being prey. He grabbed a chair and swung it at his assassin. Caeda jumped back out of the way, but that gave Prentice a chance to roll over. He swung the chair blindly and staggered to his feet. He threw the chair at her. Caeda brushed it aside and stood her ground. It was a relief in some way that Prentice wanted put up a fight.

He raised his fists and took a couple of swings. One of them even came close. Caeda dodged them and then threw two quick blows to the his head. The blows cracked against his skull and the sound echoed in the intimate space. Prentice tripped and fell to the ground. Caeda was on him this time before he got a chance to gather himself at all. She jumped on his chest and started raining blows onto his face as fast and as hard as her arms could.

Caeda was slim and her body didn't look it, but she was incredibly strong for her size. After the first couple of punches, the fight went out of Prentice and his resistance become nothing more than symbolic. His head was forced from one side to the other as Caeda's fist busted and bruised the man's face. She grunted and struggled as she hit him again and again finding more energy to keep going. Caeda was twisting her hips to generate more power as she kept going.

"Leave him alone!", the new bride cried out in despair. She felt completely powerless. The fight had completely gone out of Prentice. This woman was killing him punch by terrible punch with no sigh of slowing.

Caeda was getting tired and her muscles ached and knotted nearing the point of cramping, but she had to finish this. If she didn't kill him here and now, she knew that she wouldn't get another chance. Caeda was covered in blood from her work. Blood squirted and flew from the dozens of wounds on Prentice's face with each punch from Caeda's fist. She just kept punching. Her fists were beyond hurting. They were numb from the pain. She had thought about wearing sap gloves, but they were too cumbersome for any other purpose so she had left them. She regretted that fact as her hand ached worse with each blow.

Prentice's arms and legs shook and moved after each wet body jarring punch. It was the only indication that Caeda was punching a living person instead of a dummy. His face was beyond recognition. Muscles, and in some places bone was exposed on Prentice's face. Caeda's work had broken his face in many places and had knocked most of the teeth out. The loose teeth were gathering at the base of his throat because he could neither swallow nor spit them out.

It had been only a few minutes since the four bodyguards had heard the first gunshot from inside the restaurant. At first they had dismissed it. The sound hadn't been loud, and they could barely hear it over Cindy's screams. They had torn her dress open and each guy had taken a turn groping her, before they tried to figure out a democratic way to choose who got to go first. It had taken more than a few punches to get Cindy docile enough for them to really get to work on her. She cried and pleaded with them to leave her alone, and she prayed then for the first time in a long time. She didn't know what kind of help heaven could send her, but she was out of options.

While Cindy tried to find a way out of the limousine, the men ended up playing duck duck goose. The youngest of the four won. His pants were open right away and Cindy was pushed roughly to the seat. His liquor stinking breath violated her nose and his first thrust violated Cindy in every way. She couldn't make herself scream. Her fingers dug into the man's back and then her nails drew blood on his arms.

"Oh, she likes it rough!", the man exclaimed and slapped Cindy across the face with the rear of his hand. He pulled his hips back and once again Cindy let out a soundless scream. It wouldn't have mattered if she could have yelled. Nobody who could have heard her would have helped her anyway. It wasn't until the men heard the second gunshot followed by the third that they left Cindy alone in the limo. They rushed towards the rear door of Clemente's Restaurant, but the rush of people coming out made it impossible to get in. Men and women, ran from the back of the restaurant. Even a woman with a gunshot wound pushed passed them to get out of there. It wasn't until the flow of people stopped that the four guards were able to get inside. All the men had their pistols in their hands. They remembered their job, their real job. They were supposed to keep Prentice de Silva alive at all cost. Their thoughts of quick action slipped away when they thought they were too late.

A trail of blood ran from the door to the restaurant area. People had lost their shoes and cell phones and wallets in the rush to leave the building, but not one had come back for them. The drops of blood became small puddles and then pools as they came into what had been a nice dining area. Overturned chairs and broken tables and dead men told that something had torn into this room.

All four of them turned when they heard the female grunts of effort coming from the side of the room. A woman in black was straddling their boss, their charge, beating him with weary arms. She could hardly raise them, and when she brought them down gravity did most of the work, but when they saw Prentice they knew that the deed had mostly been done. If he had been in an emergency room his chances of survival would have been questionable, but here on the floor of a restaurant, he was most certainly going to die. Blood had been pouring from every opening in his head, even the ones that Caeda herself had created with her punches.

Caeda felt the four men enter. They were standing not terribly far from her. She looked down at her victim. It made her cringe internally. She'd had her eyes open while she had been punching, but now as she sat there breathing heavily, she took it in. If she had been feeling low before, she now felt level with the ground. An attack with bats couldn't have done worse in so short a time, but he wasn't dead. He was still breathing, but only because the human body was designed to function not to fail. His organs were fighting a losing fight however.

The four men stood, mouths agape, guns hanging at their sides. They had wanted to shoot this woman right away, but they had never quite seen carnage like this, and it was hard for them to process it. The severed limbs and broken bodies was more than the youngest of them could take. He turned to the side and vomited all he had eaten.

Caeda stood up. She was so tired that it took real effort to do so. She took a step away from Prentice and tried to work her fingers. Her hands were swollen inside her gloves, but she didn't feel any sharp pains so she probably hadn't broken a knuckle. She had toughened them up over the years, but this had been worse than any training she had ever done. She looked down to her left and realized that this was probably worse than anything she had ever done.

The failed bodyguards raised their guns then. They couldn't see the assassin's face, just her body and her eyes. They could tell that she was weary, but they knew  unless they killed her, that they would end up like the rest of the dead bodies. They pulled the triggers.

Caeda never considered herself a true bullet dodger because she had an unfair advantage. She could feel exactly where the guns were pointing, and she could feel the exact moment that the triggers were pulled. In a way, she had a better idea of where the bullets were going than the shooters did. It came as a shock to them when small movements by her caused all of their shots to miss. The first volley of shots had been aimed, but the second volley was little more than bullet spray. The men were angry, frustrated, and scared. They yelled and pulled the trigger trying to hit a moving target.

Caeda had dodged the first four bullets, but she wasn't trying to do that now. She dove behind a brick decoration and stayed there until she heard what she had been waiting for. One by one the men ran out of bullets. The slides of their pistols locked back. They had extra magazines, but they wouldn't get a chance to use them.

Caeda pulled out her last throwing knife, and her trusty ka-bar. Her arms felt useless, but she forced them to work. She shot up from behind the little brick wall and both knives flew at two different men at the same time. The throwing knife buried itself in a man's throat while the ka-bar found a home just above a guard's abdomen. The other men ran. Caeda leapt over the low wall and ran forward. With her left hand she pulled the ka-bar from the chest of the dying guard. Her right hand went for her special whip. From a knee, Caeda threw the knife. It hit hard in the middle of the youngest guard's back. He tumbled forward and landed with a thud. The other guard almost made it to the corner towards the front door, but he felt the searing pain of the razors wrap around his neck. He stopped immediately, but it was too late. Caeda pulled back with her waning, but still considerable strength while using his forward momentum. The whip sliced through his neck and his severed head bounced against the hard tile floor of the entrance way.

Caeda exhaled the breath she had been holding and her shoulders slumped. She turned around and saw Prentice's new wife crouched and crying next to him. She'd had to crawl through her husband's blood to get next to him. The lower end of her dress was stained red with it. Caeda looked at her and approached. The woman was scared, and backed away. Her lips trembled and her hands shook. Caeda held the whip in her right hand letting it drag the ground behind her. Finally though she put it away and slid the cylinder into the pouch where it belonged. That didn't ease the woman's fears.

"Leave him alone!", the wife managed as Caeda stepped over her husband. "Haven't you done enough to him!", the woman cried. Just then Prentice coughed blood from his mouth.

'Guess not', Caeda thought in her mind. She picked up a chair. It like lead as she raised it over her head and brought it down. The chair didn't break the first time. It took three more times to break it. Caeda grabbed a leg and wrenched it loose. These chairs were original to the restaurant from the 1930's and made of good wood. It would do nicely. Caeda could have finished Prentice with her fists, but she didn't want to touch him again. So she took the chair leg in both hands and raised it high over her head.

She brought the club down hard. Blood sprayed against her and against everything else around. The sound was hollow, wet, and sickening, but Caeda raised her arms again. This blow finished the job. She threw down the club and turned to leave. The new widow cried as Caeda turned her back on her. She wished that she had the courage to pick up a weapon and kill this woman, but she didn't.

"Why!?!", the widow yelled. "Why!"

Caeda turned to face her. She didn't know what to say, but her attention went to the back door when it opened and a young woman in a torn and tattered dress staggered in. "Help me", Cindy managed through her busted and swollen lips.

Caeda's body had gone rigid at the thought of more fighting and more killing, but she relaxed when she saw Cindy. The woman tried to stay on her feet, but she fell to the ground just inside the dining area. Caeda looked at Cindy and then at the widow. When the widow looked up at Caeda the question was gone from her mind. She knew why a man like Prentice de Silva had been murdered. She only lamented that her chance at great wealth had died along with him.

Caeda approached Cindy and went down to a knee. She took the girl gently by the chin and looked at her wounds. There was nothing serious there.

"They raped me", Cindy told Caeda. Cindy couldn't see the assassin's face, only her eyes, and they didn't change at the news she had just delivered. Cindy was only two years younger than Caeda, but the assassin seemed so much stronger than she. This assassin wouldn't have let those men rap her. She had killed them, but not all of them. The youngest of the bodyguards, who had a knife handle sticking from his back, was crawling towards the exit.

"You!", Cindy screamed with earned vitriol in her voice. She jumped to her feet and kicked the wounded man in the side as hard as she could. He just kept crawling. Cindy saw a gun then. One of the guests' security had dropped it. She went for it, but Caeda stopped her.

"Don't touch that!"

"I'm going to kill this son of a bitch! He fucking raped me!"

Caeda turned Cindy towards her and away from the pistol. Their eyes met. Cindy had seen the strength and control in Caeda's pale blue eyes before, but now as she looked into them, she saw the pain. The pain was like a flame that nothing could extinguish.

"They took a lot from you, but don't let them take everything, even if he deserves it." Caeda took the pistol and went to the bodyguard. He was still trying to make it to the door. Caeda had come over there to get her knife not caring whether he lived or died. The police were on their way with the fire department. There was chance that he could have survived, but no, not after Cindy had come in. He was going to die just like all the rest. Caeda went to a knee and yanked her knife from his back. He reacted to the sudden new pain, but not for long. She pointed the 9mm pistol at the back of his head and pulled the trigger. Caeda sighed again then dropped the pistol on his back. She cleaned the blade on his tuxedo jacket and walked away slowly. Cindy and the widow could hear a flood of sirens heading towards them as the assassin gently pushed open the kitchen door and disappeared inside the brightly lit room.

Caeda could hear the sirens too. They were getting closer. She had to leave soon if she was ever going to leave. There was no way she had the energy to fight her way through waves of cops, not that she would have anyway. She had a promise to keep before she left. She saw her pistol on the floor after a few steps. Her lower back protested, but she leaned over and slid the unused gun into the holster before she continued to the cooler. She pulled the lock opening the door.

Eric Clemente was huddled in a corner for warmth. He squinted when the door opened, but Caeda had already walked away. "I'm finished", she told him as she left through the kitchen exit. The fire engines pulled to the front and police cars circled the building, but none of them saw the shadow of a woman going over the rear retaining wall. By the time they looked, she was gone.

Two hours later, everything was quiet in Amaris' apartment. The lights were out and nothing was on. Amaris needed the quiet and the solitude, and the rest. She was as tired as she had ever been in her life. Her body ached so much that she didn't even have the strength to open the bottle of Jack Daniel's sitting only a few feet away from her. Her hands had swollen so much that she'd had to cut off her gloves. They lay along with her blood and gore covered outfit in a heap on her kitchen floor. Amaris herself was in the kitchen, lying atop a counter wearing only her sleeveless t-shirt and underwear. Her hands were off to either side soaking in freezing cold buckets of ice, water, and salt. She'd tried her bed, but her back hurt so bad that she couldn't lie on anything soft, and she didn't want to be on the floor, so the countertop sufficed. She stared up at the ceiling holding back all the emotions that seemed to flow on their own through her psyche. She decided then and there, that she was most likely a monster, or at least a barely human creature capable of doing monstrous things. Either way, there was no more point to her charade of having a normal life. Whatever life she could have had, she'd thrown away when she shut the door on Russell. She couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. She wondered more than once why fate had decided to shit on Amaris Johanssen. Some of her problems were self made, but most of them weren't, but as she lie there, she realized that ruining any chance at a happy life wasn't fate's fault. She bore the blame for that alone. It had been along time since she had, but Caeda wondered why she went on living. Then her front door opened. She inhaled sharply when it did. She knew who it was from the sound of the keys, and the rhythm of his movements. She wanted to sit up, and make him leave, but she couldn't move. Instead her eyes just began to water.

"I didn't expect to see this", Russell told Amaris with a smile after turning on the light over the range. He figured correctly that she couldn't have tolerated any more light than that. "Had a rough night?"

"Why are you here?", Amaris asked in a raspy voice. It almost sounded like a different person.

"I couldn't sleep, and I got tired of watching infomercials. I thought I'd come over and see what you were up to. So you aren't happy to see me?" He pulled up a stool and sat down next to her. "If you're wondering how I got in, I borrowed Mrs. Havasu's key about a week ago, and I forgot to give it back."

Amaris barely heard his answer. "Russell, why do you keep coming back?", she asked. "I don't want you here." She couldn't force herself to yell. She didn't have the energy.

"I keep coming back because you want me to."

Amaris turned her head towards Russell and looked at his face. He was smiling. He was usually smiling and always upbeat. It made her feel worse about herself. How could this man love life so much, and she couldn't?

"Russell, can't you see that I'm a horrible human being? I am the lowest of the fucking low. You're a good guy, and you deserve better than I can ever give you. I was wrong when I said I was better off before I met you. You were better off before you met me." Amaris choked back a sob. Now wasn't the time to feel sorry for herself. She pulled her hands from the ice. "Please leave before I drag you down."

Russell looked down at Amaris' face and brushed some hair to the side. "I keep saying that you can't get rid of me. The other day was a strategic withdrawal and not an unconditional surrender. I just had to find the right time to come back." He lifted Amaris' hand and looked at how swollen it was despite the ice. He kissed her hand and rubbed her forehead, but she pulled her hand away.

"No, it needs to hurt. I deserve the pain and more, but I don't deserve you. Please go. I can't love, and I can't be what you need me to be. There's something wrong with me. I don't need saving, because there's no hope of saving me. I am what I am, Russell. That's all there is to it." Amaris turned away from him, but she didn't make an effort to get up.

Russell reached down and pulled her choker from the top of the pile of clothes. He unhooked the medal of St. Jude and held it in his hand. The smile left his face and he looked deeply into Amaris' eyes. "Saint Jude wouldn't agree. There are no lost causes, just people who aren't willing to fight for them. And there are no lost people either. You aren't low, and you aren't horrible. Amaris is a witty, caring person, who goes out of her way to help those around her. You have a gift to make beautiful art, and you can make me smile by walking in the room." He paused and put the medal in her hand. He gently closed his hand around hers. "I'm no fool, though. I know Caeda is inside you. And I know the pain that's inside of you, but I don't know where it comes from. Its made this dark side, but you're better than that. I won't give up on the good in you, Amaris. Its because of the good that I keep coming back. I love you Amaris, and you're strong enough to make the good win."

"No, I'm not. I did something tonight that was so horrible and so bloody and so..." She couldn't finish. She just looked at Russell.

"I know what you did tonight. I saw it on the news.  Prentice de Silva was horrible, not you. I'm not going to give up on you. I'm never going to give up on you. I love you Amaris Johanssen, and I always will. There's no changing that."

"Don't say that. Just go away, please. If you saw what I did tonight, then you know that I'm just a killer. You deserve better than me." Amaris made no effort to wipe the tears that were rolling down her face.

"Why won't you let me in?", Russell demanded angrily. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because I don't deserve it. I know what I am. There's no changing that!"

"Bullshit!", Russell yelled. "That's bullshit and you know it! You said yourself that you were a happy smiling child. That's what you were supposed to be, Amaris. That's what you are when you're with me whether you want to admit it or not! When you kicked the shit out of me the other day, I knew why. I knew why the whole time. You were scared."

"What!?!" Amaris turned towards him. "Since when have I been scared of anything. What was I scared of, of you?"

"No, not me. You're scared of trusting yourself to someone else."

"I trust you, Russell. I just--"

"No, you don't!", he cut her off quickly. "You don't trust me. Sure you let me know who you are and what you do for a living, but you don't want me to know what goes on in your head and in your heart. You were starting to trust me the other night. You didn't feel that pain that you hold so close to you. The pain was gone the entire day, you didn't feel it. Even when you remembered your family, you didn't feel the pain the same way. Just the hurt of the memories. You wanted to trust me and to tell me, but you were afraid of facing the memories head on. You'd rather keep the pain, so you had to figure out a way to get rid of me, so you wouldn't have the face the reality of the past."

"You're wrong. I face the past everyday."

"You would rather keep the pain than let it out."

Amaris didn't say anything. She faced the wall instead of looking at him. He sat there for a time before he threw up his hands. "You know what, you can sit here all your life and rot in your pain and self pity. I'm not going to beat my head against a wall. If my love isn't enough, then I am leaving. You win, Amaris." He released her hand and stood up. He ground his teeth as he looked down at her. "If you really wanted me to go, you didn't have to beat the hell out of me. All you had to do was say you didn't love me, and that you never would."

He started out the kitchen. "I'll leave the keys on the table. Good-bye."

Russell was already past the counter when Amaris' arm lashed out suddenly. She took him by the hand and twisted her body until she was sitting up. Russell was startled. He hadn't known that a human could move that quickly.

"I love you", Amaris said weakly. "I do love you, and you're right about all of it."

"So what that I'm right, Amaris. It doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything. She put her legs over the edge of the counter and let herself slide to the floor. The soles of her feet even hurt, but she put that out of her mind. "I love you, Russell", she said for the second time. It felt more natural to say now. "I know how I feel, but I just don't know how to do it."

Russell took her by the shoulders. He wanted to talk, but he couldn't find any words.

Amaris looked down at the floor. "I can't change over night, but I don't want to be the way I am." She looked her blood covered outfit. "I don't want to do that anymore, never again. God help me, I don't want to do this anymore!" The tears started again, and her body was racked with powerful sobs. She almost sank down, but Russell held her up and lead her towards the living room. He pulled her close and held her tightly.

"If you love me, Amaris, you can start by trusting me. I'll never betray you, and I'll never leave you."

"I'll try", she inhaled and wiped her eyes. "For you, I'll try."

Russell's smile returned. "So no more kicking Russell's ass and putting me out of your place?"

Amaris did the Girl Scout's salute, "I swear, never again."

"Good, because I don't think you're in any shape to kick my ass. I think right now I could take you."

Amaris' eyebrow arched. "Oh yeah, want to try it."

He saw the spark in her eyes again. It wasn't just in her eyes, it was all over her body. Everything about her sparked. He just hoped it was sincere and not a passing fancy. As he looked in her light blue eyes, he felt his knee give out and his leg get swept from under him. He fell to the floor with her on top.

"Aw, I thought you said no more kicking my ass", Russell groaned.

Amaris straddled his body and loomed above him. He took in the beautiful shape of her body and ran his hands up and down her silky thighs.

"You want me to trust you. Well get my keys, and go to the garage and get my car", she told him and got to her feet.

"What? Get your car, at this hour?"

"Yeah, go get it. I'm going to clean up. I'll be ready by the time you get back. You want me to trust you, and you want to know me, then we have to take a trip. I'll be ready by the time you get back."

She walked down the hall towards the bathroom, and Russell left the apartment confused. He called a cab and headed to Midtown. He came back with Amaris' Volkswagen Beetle and over the next eight hours he would hear a tale that made him finally understand how Amaris Johanssen had become Caeda, the assassin.

Link to other Caeda stories.

Caeda: The Art of the Kill  
Caeda: Death's Shadow
Caeda: Rules to Kill By
Caeda: Mountain Rescue
Caeda: An Assassin's Holiday

Also check out the bookshelf for all my other stories.

More Caeda to come very soon!

comments encouraged: dem2@hotmail.com