Ever Mine:::Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The burn of his needing kiss still lingered on her heated skin, as she feathered her fingertips over the subtle marks he left behind on her delicate neck. Staring out the window of the plane, the whirling of the jet engines seemed to fade as she watched the last of the sun’s brilliant rays settle into the horizon. Leaving behind subtle hues of burnt oranges and deep-set mauves, Alix kissed the day goodbye, and waited for the moment the midnight sun made its nightly appearance. The flight from Phoenix was packed and the din of voices disappeared as she sank deeper into the delicious memories of her last encounter with Damian.
She hadn't been one for the pursuit of trivial thoughts, yet at that moment she did everything she could to keep herself seated, while her thoughts ran amuck with delicious ideas for her next encounter with him.
The scent of him, so strong, and musky reminding her of delicious dark spices, still wafted faintly from her pale pink shirt. Her skin still stained with the memory of his touch. Her lips still quivered from the last gentle caress of his fingers. "Ever mine, my love." was all but a sweet whisper in her ear. His words filled her heart so completely that leaving was always agony. Alix kept her mind locked down tight making her a virtual prisoner of her own thoughts. The constant question of why he loved with her, knowing what she was and what she did, seem to grow as of late. Each time she kissed him goodbye, was like one more slap in the face as she chose her job over him.
Shaking the thoughts out of her mind her fingers danced over the mark on her neck once again, imagining the feel of his lips brushing against her heated skin. Caressing her as he settled in to take her vein deeper, succumbing to the exchange. Exchanging energies as only magic-kind did, keeping them connected to their mates. The memory so vivid it sent shivers rattling through her entire body. She was a virtual prisoner of her thoughts when she thought about him.
Hell, it was torture to be away from him. The beautifully cruel memories of his body crushed against hers, the feel of his chiseled chest pressed into hers, as he possessed her with his soul-penetrating stare. Tangled and twisted in the heat of passion. The subtle shifting of her black leather pants caressing against her fair skin reminded her of the feel of his strong hands as they slid gently up her thigh. The sensual way the soft pads of his fingers brushed against her smoldering core until she let out the cry of desire, as she begged for more.
Just this little reminder had her reeling, knowing that her very essence was welling up without her control. Her mind raced with more thoughts as they danced carefully across her impatient mind. Sinking deeper into her seductive visions, her teeth nearly broke the soft skin of her pink lip as she bit down as her hands gripped the arm rests, trying in vain to keep her seated.
Slaking off all sense of what she had done before climbing onto the plane, her only concern now was how fast she could strip Damian’s clothes off. The luscious idea of pinning him to the floor between her sultry thighs had her reeling with heated anticipation.

***

Twenty-four hours ago, Alix met with her employer, Roland Lemire, working for him, nearly sixty years as a trained assassin. Her role was to aid the Oracle Legacy when they required her special set of skills. The Oracle Legacy was one of the oldest of all the Oranisian covens. Amongst magic-kind, the O.L. ranked as aristocrats of their own accord.
At his penthouse suite on the bay in Chicago Roland stood facing out of the floor to ceiling windows. “It’s on the table.” His gruff voice spoke, as it irritated the air around her. On his desk was a plain manila envelope with her next assignment. "G. R. Hans". Having read of him in many papers over the past six months, Alix knew what she had to do.
“So the Valley of Hades again? Great, just fucking great.” She scoffed, rolling her emerald green eyes. Just want she wanted to do, fly down to Phoenix and make sure Hans’ was ready for his desert nap.
“Is there a problem?” he quirked a smile, eyeing her in the reflection of his window.
“No.” shaking her head, she grabbed the envelope and shimmin back to her home in Tahoe. The less time she spent with Roland, the better.
Sitting down at her desk, Alix read through the documents, giving each page a thorough scan. Hans wasn’t just your typical thug. Drug dealer, sure. Mafia wannabe, definitely, and yet the Magistrate Crime Scene Investigators hadn’t discovered the wealth of underground shit he was apart of. Researching her intended marks, always lead to one inescapable truth, everyone had a weakness. She found each one’s with diligence and exploited that bit of knowledge.
When she made her presence known, more often than not she was standing over their writhing bodies. As their muffled screams of agony begged for death to relieve them, Alix dangled their very life in her hands.
In the few hours she had before she left to her next job, Alix took to her laptop, digging for any more information on Hans. Her intel revealed Hans’ dirty little secret after a few clicks of the mouse and thanks to the wonderful world of URL tracking, hacking into Hans’ personal database was nothing more than child’s play. Even his personal password was a cliché. IAMGOD. “Ego trip much, fucker?” she cursed, glancing over at the clock. Two hours until she needed to leave.
The information she found in his personal files revealed everything from daily counts of smack sold by his dealers to the number of women and their ages that he had sold. The information gnawed at her as she finished scouring his database, keying her up with a severe need to dispense justice.
Using his club as a front, Hans had set up shop as one of the west coast’s leading sex trafficking rings for young women. Selling the young and the beautiful to the highest bidder was something that tickled his cock. Hans loved and took pride in every dollar he made from the sales. He didn’t care who or what kind of torment buyer’s had in store for them. Most often, it was for their own personal depravity. Women used like a dishrags then tossed in the trash, was the kind of shit always made her skin crawl.
To Alix it was her duty, or rather her Calling as Damian had once described her, to rid the world of these types of beings. The ones who thrived off of human misery, killing for the sake of killing never sat well with Alix. The distaste of it burnt her tongue like acid for the mere idea of it. Alix was too refined and accomplished for that kind of amateur display. She had her mission to rid the world of those unworthy of breathing. Clearly, Hans was on that list and as it were, he currently took the top spot thanks to Roland’s “most wanted hit list”.
Though she hated to leave Damian, he understood. This is who she was. She kissed him goodbye, with little fear of her next job. “Job” if that's what you would call it. To Alix, it was beyond a job, beyond a necessary evil, it was the only way she could live.
Alix, well respected in her field for being cunning, brilliant, and amazingly resilient, Alix’s beauty was as sensuous on the outside as her killing skills were deadly. She knew better than anyone did what kind of female she was, ‘a watch your ass kind of woman should you be stupid enough to cross her.’ Damn did she pride herself on that fact.



***

Hans, was more than your average scumbag. His shaven head and the brown goatee that edged the hard lines of his harsh jaw emphasized the deep lines leading to his beady dark eyes. Eyes that sneered with a condescending gaze that amplified the cruelty that lay beneath the surface. Hans hid his true intentions behind layers of charm to his victims.
His greedy hands fondle each of the young ladies he planned on selling. Priming them for what he knows will be a profitable evening. Hans, kept his hands deep in the thick of his transactions, taking inventory of the young merchandise for what would be their last encounter with the outside world. Selling these women had been a lucrative business for him, making him twice the amount of money than just selling the drugs out of his club. Using his night-club, "The Last Stop" as his front, he did quite well for himself. His body, adorned in the fashions that evoked his wealth-induced front would make any normal person wish to puke up rusty nails. Hans dressed head to toe in black pinstriped Armani, shimmering gold crosses and jewels from his neck, wrists and fingers. He loved to front his ill-gotten wealth to his latest catches of the night. Showering his lady of the moment with Champagne and shining trinkets before discarding them after his personal use. To Hans, women were like tissues, soft and disposable. Just a pleasant waste of time, until they’re used up. Like so many before, when he grew tired his lady they would then be tossed aside for the next pretty little thing. Using a woman for more than one day was unheard of to him.

Reviewing the intel, Alix's vision tweaked into 'The Matter' mode, consuming her as it fired up and controlled her mind and her body. Alix felt her eyes light up into a brilliant display of glowing ominous green flames. Her body and mind becoming hard as steel. She welcomed ‘The Matter’ and all it consumed of her. It was as much a part of her as was breathing. With it, she could alter and influence everything around her. No door would ever be locked for her; no mark could ever hide from her. And now, Hans would get a taste of what she had to offer. To Alix, all that mattered was making a shit-bag like, Hans disappear. Her special brand of justice would be dispensed and the world would be free of one more nightmare.

***

Walking through the old-fashioned lamp lit streets, the cool autumn chill nipped at her flushed cheeks. Stopping at the corner, glancing across the street to the club, she found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she saw how packed the club was. Magic-kind and humans clamored together as the chill of the autumn air brushed passed their half-naked bodies. Women dressed for sin, hoping to find their dreams on the dance floor and men stood hard against the cool night breezes. A trailing line of bodies crowded down and around the corner of the street, hundreds of unsuspecting people waited, ready to get their electric sex on the dance floor. Civilian human and magic-kind alike pranced about trying to keep themselves warm in their short minis and thin shirts.
"The Last Stop" she said to herself, biting back the urge to spit nails. "How fucking appropriate. This should be quite interesting"
After hacking into Hans’s database, Alix pulled up his security files, every motion sensor and security guard’s routes were carefully memorized. With full knowledge of the inner workings of the security, she scanned the entire building top to bottom. She relied on her abilities to read the layout before making her silent grand entrance. Slipping down the grime-ridden alleyway to the back of the building, Alix knew the easiest way to get in would be to shimmin. The halo of the streetlights could barely illuminate a few feet into the alleyway from the sidewalk. For Alix, the darkness was a convenient way for her to hide shimmin, but to the humans a dark alley gave the classic creepy vibe to everyone. The possibility of danger leered from every hidden shadow, as trash dumpsters provided the awful stench that lingered for days. Alix peered around, looking for any unfortunates that might try to hide themselves from the weather’s unrelenting chill. She waited patiently in the darkness until she was satisfied with the absence of any other presence.
As more humans scurried by the alley’s entrance, Alix found their actions humorous, their childish imaginations running rampant with thoughts of dangerous beings stalking in the shadows. "If they only knew, I'm the one they should fear” a sneer etched across her stone features as she contemplated the thought, readying herself for shimmin.

***

Hans enjoyed the view from his fifth floor office as he sank back into his chair. The leather creaked against the force of his body. Looking down at the scum that clamored to enter into his establishment of debauchery, patiently he waited, watching for that one special lady of the moment to enter his realm. His eyes scanned the hordes of possible merchandise.
Peering out the window, watching as the latest swell of club dwellers enter, Hans knew full well that coercing one or even four of those unsuspecting females would be easier than coaxing a kitten. With the promise of unforgettable sex, money, and jewels, they were easy targets. “Stupid little girls” he spoke insidiously, as the idea of their possible fair market worth rolled around in his greedy mind.
His smug grin full of menace turned his face into something even a blind man would find disturbing. Little did he know that it would be the last voluntary expression of his final moments. Without so much as a swish of a breeze, Alix was standing behind the man, one hand with her eight inch serrated bowie knife at the his throat, and a syringe full of tranquilizer in her other hand.
"Slowly face me." She whispered in her sexiest, raspy alto voice. No man alive could fight that sweet sound. As he turned towards her, Alix smiled a half-crooked smile, "I think someone has been a naughty shit-bag. Selling innocent girls and dust to line your pockets....Tsk Tsk. Didn't anyone ever tell you crack kills?"
His eyes filled with anger and awe as he drank in the sight of her. His lips silently pleading as she hushed him quiet. ‘Lethal and lovely’ he thought as she slid the edge of her blade over his cleanly shaven throat, taunting him as she readied him for his unwelcome sleep. Her eyes never wavered, staring straight into the flat blackness he called eyes, watching him pleading and begging without words for mercy. Fucking mercy, something he's never shown a single person before. Slowly sliding the needle into the side of his throat, pushing the plunger, “See I'm not all mean, take a nap for me." She taunted, letting out a sultry laugh, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, within moments as his body started to sag under its own weight. Alix let the asshole drop like a sack of potatoes, pleased with herself, clapping her hands free of his stink.
‘Excellent’ she thought. ‘Ah the perks of my job.’ Glancing behind her, Alix used her mind to will the door to lock on itself. The metal click softly reverberated across the room. Alix turned her gaze back to Hans, "Plenty of time for you and me to have some real fun." A sly smile crossed her face, as she stared down at the lowlife piece, of shit, flesh dealer. Fuckers like this made her ‘job’ worthwhile and Hans in particular she would enjoy dispatching.
Her eyes were full of the green flames as ‘the Matter’ assailed her; steering her course for that moment. ‘The Matter’, was her most trusted ally in the fight to conquer injustice. And he didn’t stand a hookers chance in hell of surviving this.
Standing over G.R. Hans's body as he lay tethered across his massive mahogany carved desk Alix did what all trained assassins did well, wait. Patience was a virtue she had in spades. Though she was itching for something else. Someone else. And tonight that craving only grew.
Patiently she waited for Hans to wake up to his new reality. She had Waited for that single moment when the sonofabitch would be alone. Now she waited for the sun to make its grand entrance for the coming day. Patiently waiting for this asshole to wake up….Fuck patience.
Alix shot him up with a enough adrenaline to make an elephant do back flips. “Wakey wakey.” She taunted, her smile beamed as she caressed his cheek with the tip of her ivory dagger. “I only thought it fair that you see for yourself what you’ve done and profited from.”
“Fuck you bitch! Guards!” he screamed, thrashing against his binds. “Releasing me now!”
“Sorry, I gave you’re staff the night off.” Her wry laugh set his anger on fire. “They figured you were a little bit busy” She loved this game, ‘take all control away from the bad man’; walking her fingers up his chest to his jawline Hans gnashed his teeth together, seething and writhing against his binds.
“Oh no no no. We aren’t through here.” She taunted so more.
“Get the fuck off me!”
“As you wish. The stench of your life is distasteful to say the least."
With the first brilliant yellow rays peering through the boisterous drapes, Hans slowly became aware or his surroundings.
"Funny, I would have thought an asshole like you would have decorated in a color more to your suiting, like shit brown." Alix smiled slyly. Leaning down to his ear, her lips brushed lightly against his skin. “Do. You. Know. Why. I. Am. Here.?" she spoke slowly letting the gravity of his situation sink in.
Get the fuck off me cunt!" Hans barked out, his speech still thick with false sleep as the tranquilizer began to wear off.
"Pity, most men would die to be in your current state. As I recall once said to me, ‘It’d be one hell of a fantasy come to life’.” Her fingers clutched his jaw, pulling it back so his face was securely looking at her. “Payback is a bitch and today I happen to be that bitch.” Hoping off the SOB, Alix knew she would greatly enjoy what was about to happen.
Placing her hand on his forehead, Alix poured images of all the women he had sold in his rings. All the pain and torment they endured, every second of their fear and anguish. As he thrashed more Alix pushed more images into his head until his screams became desperate cries begging her to stop. “I’ll stop! I won’t sell them anymore.” His pleas fell on deaf ears as she pulled away. His mind went erratic as he fought to find away to free himself. "What the fuck do you want from me? Money? You've got it, Males, females maybe, I can do that...No wait you're probably a Coker? Ah yes, that’s what you want, right?" Hans, thinking of the best way to make a deal and save his skin from what was about to happen, he watched anxiously as Alix slide her ivory carved porcelain gripped dagger from its sheath.
“You’ll do more than stop.” The chill in her voice terrified him, his eyes shot open in panic, he begged for his life.
In one graceful arch, she came down across his throat, slicing the sinews with all the precision of a surgeon. Crimson blood wept from the wound, down his skin, to the desk, trickling rivers down the legs. The metallic scent of his blood disgusted her as the pulled away from the pools of red liquid forming on the floor. Carefully she wiped her blade over his black Armani shirt and slide it silently in to her thigh holster. “Please send my regards to Satan.” Winking back at him, Hans’s eyes slowly dilated into the “fixed” position. “Perfect.” She smiled. The glow rescinded as she stepped towards the wall of glass windows. It was moments like this that she considered what she truly was, an assassin. One with the distinct gift. She possessed “The Matter” like no other and didn’t feel the need to question why anymore. Long ago, she had begged Crem, the leader of the Sisterhood for answers, only to be denied any truth. Secrecy and rules……. Always the fucking rules.