Blood, Bonds, and Loyalty

The heavy oak door had barely clicked shut before the tension in the room visibly thawed. The Director—the ruthless, stone-cold matriarch who had just barked orders at me in the hall—let out a slow, tired exhale and turned around. "I'm sorry about earlier, Kira," she said, her harsh tone replaced by something far softer, almost maternal. "You just need to be ready for this mission. The Black Vipers are cunning and dangerous. They don't fight fair, and they'll use anything they can get their hands on to gain an advantage." "I know," I said, relaxing my stiff military posture. "I've taken down a few of their men before. I promise, I'm ready." She crossed the rug slowly, stopping right in front of me. Reaching out, she took my arms in her hands, her thumbs gently rubbing the leather sleeves of my jacket with a soft sigh. "I know you are," she murmured, her slate-gray eyes shimmering with a rare flicker of emotion. "You are your mother's daughter." The Director was "Auntie" Edna Lewis. Long before she was the iron-fisted ruler of the Academy, she was my parents' absolute best friend. When they were brutally murdered by members of the Black Vipers during a botched mission, Auntie Edna was the one who pulled my five-year-old self out of the smoke and embers of our burning house. She brought me here, raised me among the weapons and the warriors, and forged me into what I was today. She was hard on me—harder than anyone else in the facility—but whenever she pushed too far, she always called me into her office like this to apologize. She was the only family I had left in the world. "Are you going out tonight?" she asked, smoothing down the lapel of my jacket. "Yeah," I admitted with a faint smile. "Just going to blow off some steam before the mission tomorrow." Auntie Edna nodded slowly, a warm, indulgent smile touching her lips. "That's a good idea. Get it out of your system so your head is clear." She gave my arms one last affectionate squeeze before stepping back. "Be safe, Kira." "Will do," I said, offering her a genuine smile. I turned and walked out of the office, closing the door softly behind me. Shaking off the heavy wave of nostalgia, I quickened my pace down the corridor, burst through the steel exit doors into the cool night air, and hurried toward the waiting cab where Linda was sticking her head out the window. I slid into the back seat of the cab, pulling the door shut against the cool night air. Linda turned in her seat, leaning against the door with an eyebrow raised and a knowing, dry smirk on her face. "Let me guess... she apologized again?" I let out a heavy sigh, leaning my head back against the headrest. "Yeah." Linda shook her head, pulling a tube of lip gloss from her bag and touching up her pout in the dim light of the street lamps outside. "That's very manipulative of her, Kira. Yell at you in front of everybody to keep up the scary Director act, then pull you into her office for soft little heart-to-hearts so you feel bad for getting annoyed." I clicked my seatbelt into place and leaned forward, tapping the driver's shoulder. "The Velvet Lounge downtown, please." As the car pulled away from the curb and merged into the dark, quiet street, I turned back to Linda. "I know," I admitted softly, looking out the tinted window as the razor wire on the Academy's perimeter fence faded into the background. "I know how she operates. But she's the only family I got, Linda. I pretty much owe my life to her. There's no telling where I would be if she didn't take me in and bring me here with her after my parents died. Probably some broken county foster home, or worse." Linda's expression softened, the sharp sarcasm dropping from her face. She reached across the console and gave my knee a supportive nudge. "I get it, babe. I really do," she said gently. "Just don't let her run you into the ground. You're a damn good mercenary, but you're still human." She flashed a sudden, wicked grin, effectively cutting through the heavy mood. "Which brings us back to tonight's mission: getting you drunk and finding you a very pretty, very temporary distraction." "And what about you?" I asked, turning to face her fully as the cab rattled over the bridge toward the glowing city skyline. "What's your plan for tonight? Is Rowan meeting you there?" Linda's cheeks flushed a subtle, dusty pink under her makeup—a rare sight for someone who usually acted totally unflappable. "Yeah," she admitted, a soft, involuntary smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He said he'd be waiting by the bar around ten." "Oho! Look at you," I teased, bumping my shoulder against hers. "And here you were lecturing me about hunting." "Hey, we're not like that," she scoffed playfully, waving a dismissive hand, though her grinning face gave her away. "We're just going to hang out and dance for a bit. And, honestly, keep an eye on you so you don't pick up a total lunatic." "Please," I snorted, leaning back against the leather seat with a roll of my eyes. "I'm a trained assassin. I think I can handle a regular club guy." "Trained assassin or not, you've got a terrible taste in pretty men when you're three shots deep," Linda fired right back without missing a beat. "So consider me your official wingwoman and sober supervisor."