Chapter Five: Truth

Sorry for the delay guys...I had some trouble with the plot this chapter and had to edit some things. I really hope you like it!

That first night was the hardest. Mike had agreed to hide her until the whole thing blew over. He had friends in high places, apparently. He had taken her back to his apartment and left her in a small plain bedroom, telling her to relax. She thought she had seen a new respect in those cold black eyes. She hadn't slept, instead choosing to drift in and out of nightmarish daydreams as she thought about what she had done. It hadn't been intentional, but she had still taken a human life. What bothered her even more than that, if possible, was the fact that she had killed Charlie's brother. And he would never look at her the same way ever again. If of course she ever saw him again.
But that was the last night she allowed herself to wallow. Her life had collapsed, and some part of her knew that she would have to build a new one from the ashes. She wouldn't be able to do that if she spent all her time wallowing in dismal introspection.
So she didn't. After all, she owed Mike a great deal. She started her training the day after she moved in. Mike was, simply put, a paid assassin. He didn't like to use such a simple word to describe it, but that was what he did for a living. And Linnea became his assistant very quickly. 

Her job was to get dressed up and go out to bars with him, acting as his sister. They didn't look anything alike, but men usually ignored that once their eyes had performed the familiar flick up and down her body. Her first "real" job happened on Sunday night, about a week after she had finished carving out a new identity with some assistance from Mike. He took her to a bar downtown. The large buildings and flashing lights were a new experience for Linnea, but she hid her confusion and made sure her gaze was steady as she mounted the steps leading up to the front of the building. Linnea was seventeen, not old enough to even enter bars like this, let alone drink there. Mike had easily obtained a fake ID for her however, and she immediately took a seat at the bar and ordered a Purple Haze. As she had been instructed, she remained silent and sipped her drink, letting Mike do all the talking. He took a seat next to her and rapped his knuckles on the counter.
"Hey! You staring at my sister?"

The bartender ignored him, fixing Linnea with a level stare. She glanced at Mike, who nodded imperceptibly.With his assent, she lowered her glass and smiled slightly, lowering her eyelids in the way she knew worked. Lowered eyes and a slight smile meant modest acknowledgement of a guy's stare, and also gave the impression that she was off-limits. They always wanted what they couldn't have. Mike feigned protectiveness.
"Go dance, Raine."
Raine was Linnea's middle name. Even her fake parents weren't aware of that. Miranda had told her during that first strange visit. How things had changed. Linnea held back a smile as she remembered how terrified she had been of Mike. Now, she recognized her cue and slid off the stool, letting her skirt slip up and reveal more of her thigh as she did so. Drink in hand, she headed over to the crowded dance floor. A pleasant heat had crept over her, blurring her vision slightly and giving her a feeling of abandon she had certainly never felt before. Somebody offered her another drink and she accepted it happily as she slipped into the throng of dancing bodies. The music was soft and ambient, but the crowd surged around her with an energy that was quite different. As Linnea began to dance, she felt both Mike's and the bartender's eyes on her. Suddenly mindful of her task, she handed the drink over to some random person in the crowd. Mike had warned her to stay relatively sober.

Even with his warning in mind, her vision had begun to blur by the time she saw her next cue. Though she could see him still over at the bar, she could no longer hear what they were saying. She was expecting this, so when she saw Mike stand up and smash his fists on the bar, she slipped out of the throng and pulled herself up on the counter. Her instructions were to act completely drunk, which she found surprisingly easy. Swaying back and forth to the music, she heard various exclamations, including one from the bartender, who came over and looked up at her.
"Hey. Ahem. Miss, you're going to have to get down now."
Linnea looked at Mike who grinned briefly and flashed a thumbs up. She glimpsed the hilt of a knife in his hand and her gut suddenly dropped. Before, she had never fully realized what it was she was doing. Now she realized. She was facilitating murder. You owe him. You owe him everything you have. That thought steeled her as she jumped down from the bar. I don't want to remember this.

He carried her out of the bar a half hour later after it was done and she had passed out. This little beauty was turning out to be invaluable. He couldn't believe he had almost decided to kill her now. She was the most useful rescue he'd made in a long time, and well worth the trouble he was going to. He smiled as he dumped her in the back of his car and sped away.

The next morning, she awoke with a splitting headache and a sick feeling in her stomach. She didn't remember anything about the night before, and she had a feeling she didn't want to. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled to the bathroom and took in the newly familiar sight of the sparkling black tiled floors and pristine appliances. As she splashed cold water on her face, the nausea increased until she had to sprint for the toilet. I guess this is what it's like to be hungover.

She found the will to stumble back into her bedroom and put some clothes on, and made her way to the living room. Mike was already up and wordlessly offered her a cup of coffee, which she accepted gratefully. The warm smell distracted her somewhat from her pounding headache.
"Do you have any asprin?"
He tossed her a bottle, which she caught and popped two white pills into her mouth. She washed them down with coffee and sat down in an empty armchair by the window. Mike gave her a sideways glance and sat on the sofa.
"How you feeling, kiddo?"
"Like absolute shit."
He winced and reached for the television remote.
"I don't blame you. You took quite a few shots after I killed him."
Linnea gazed blindly at the wall.
"Yeah well. I wanted to forget."
He reached over and shook her knee gently.
"The first time is always hard."
She bent over and hid her face in her hands, pulling at her hair with stiff fingers.
"It wasn't the first time, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
He forgot the news and appraised her, assessing what was turning into a surprisingly beautiful face. She had grown a great deal since he'd rescued her from that cell. Again, he marveled at what a good investment he'd made.
"If it helps, you were great."
"Really?"
She smiled slightly. It had been surprisingly fun to be the lure. It gave her a feeling of...power. She'd never had power before in her life. He looked her up and down once more.
"I think you're ready for real training."
Her eyes suddenly sharpened with trepidation, but also, surprisingly, excitement.

Mike was never one to waste time, so that evening, once Linnea's hangover had abated slightly, they drove down to a deserted beach on the east side of Oakshire. Nobody wanted to go to the beach in the dead of winter so they were guaranteed relative privacy. Linnea had already been taking martial arts lessons at Mike's insistence, but he had refused to teach her himself until now. She faced him warily, looking at his muscular frame and searching for weaknesses. She could find none.
"Now before we start, kiddo, I want to clarify something. Your most useful defense is that power of yours. I'm just teaching you a little extra, okay?"
Linnea had a retort to this, but she bit her lip and nodded. Even when she'd been living with him for months, Mike sparked a flash of fear in her. Those eyes were the eyes of a predator. He shifted into a ready stance.
"All right. To start, we'll have a little...diagnostic. A test. Okay?"
She nodded.
"I'm going to try and land a blow. All you have to do is block me."
Linnea settled into a position that mimicked his, her adrenaline kicking in,  though she knew he wouldn't hurt her.She avoided the first blow by sidestepping it. His fist went whistling past her face, and she had to fight back a giggle. This just felt so much like one of those stupid action movies that she found it amusing. He raised an eyebrow at her smiling face and aimed a snap kick at her stomach. Remembering her training, Linnea grabbed his outstretched foot with one hand and attempted to catch him off-balance. Instead, he swung his leg upward and out of her grip, wrenching her wrist. She winced and jumped backwards to avoid another punch. For another fifteen minutes she blocked and parried his blows until he finally landed a kick to her kneecap, sending her sprawling on the sand.
"Nicely done. I think you're ready."

She crouched on the sidewalk, feeling the dirty asphalt beneath her hands. Two weeks of training, and Mike had said she was ready to start repaying her debt. Linnea wasn't entirely sure she was ready to start killing people yet, but she knew what Mike did, and she had had a pretty good idea of what her promise meant when she had made it. Her eyes sparkled more than average in the darkness and her hands trembled against the pavement. Mike was standing behind the building.
"Listen, Sparrow. This guy has a knife. Be careful."
Linnea nodded numbly. She wasn't entirely sure why this man was being assassinated, but Mike always had a reason. She had to trust him on this. He wouldn't have assigned her someone beyond her capabilities. She didn't have much time to prepare before footsteps echoed in the silent alley, making her sit up as though she had been electrocuted.
"Good luck."
Mike's whisper was barely audible, but the footsteps faltered slightly before picking up again. Linnea settled into a ready crouch, freeing her hands.

She waited patiently as he came closer and closer, pressing against the cement base of the building and hoping with every ounce of strength she had that he wouldn't notice her before she could tackle him. Her wish came true. He walked right by without looking either to the left or the right, allowing Linnea to pounce on him from behind, holding one of his arms behind his back and placing her other hand on his pulsing jugular vein. Now was the time to tap into that strange power she had discovered. He struggled, but her strength did not fail. Even with him trapped, her eyes widened in barely controlled panic as she realized something.
She didn't know how.
She didn't know HOW to tap into whatever Cassandra had put into her. As she stood for a few tense seconds she realized that she felt cold steel against her legs. He had managed to draw a knife from his back pocket with his left hand. Her panic increased. If she couldn't kill him, he would kill her. Suddenly, Linnea was furious with both Mike and herself for overlooking this obvious important part of the plan. Her hands tightened into fists. Come on, come on. She felt him struggling further and she automatically tightened her grip, but not before he brought his arm up and stabbed at her face. Thankful that he couldn't see her, Linnea winced as the knife went whistling past her left ear. Her pulse quickened and tears pricked her eyes. Just as she began to despair, she felt a familiar electricity begin somewhere in her chest. Without thinking about it, she cupped her hand around the sparks that were suddenly flaring from her fingertips. She placed her hand on his shoulder.
His scream shattered the silence like broken glass.

Linnea watched him crumple with a strange fascination, watched him fall to the ground at her feet. Before she had time to process the fact that she had just killed intentionally, she felt a heat from her chest. The electricity hadn't gone away. And then there wasn't just heat, there was pain, mind numbing pain that stripped her of her awareness and cause red lights to explode behind her eyes. She arched her back and forced a scream from her constricted throat. Her nerves were surely on fire, burning her alive. She was going to die. Nobody could survive this pain. She was grateful for the blackness gathering at the edge of her senses, even though she knew what it meant. Anything was good if it meant an escape from the pain. Mike came around the corner of the building just in time to see her body slump to the ground next to her victim.
********

She awoke in her familiar bed back at the apartment with a gnawing in her stomach and a pounding in her head. She made it to the living room before she stopped and swayed, putting one hand to her head. Mike was sitting in front of the television as usual. He glanced at her when he heard her staggering footsteps, but there was no pity in his eyes.
"I gave up two jobs to babysit you, Sparrow. You'd better work damn hard to make up for that."
"What happened?"
Her voice cracked, worn from lack of use. Everything felt strange and blurry, and her limbs were tingling as though they were asleep. Mike took a drag on his cigarette.
"You tell me. After you shocked him -nice job on that by the way, it was impressive- you started screaming like a hurricane. And...glowing."
She sat weakly on the edge of the couch and began to laugh. She couldn't help it; it was all to absurd. After her fit had subsided, she looked at Mike again.
"Glowing?"
He looked fleetingly troubled.
"Well, sending out sparks and yeah...glowing."
She stared.
"You're serious."
He nodded, not taking his eyes off of the TV.
"Well all I know is that that was the worst pain I've ever felt. I don't think I can do that again, Mike."

His face suddenly hostile, he stood up and faced her directly.
"Yeah well, you're going to. You owe me kiddo. And I don't let ANYONE get away without payment."
She looked at him desperately.
"Look, we don't know what this is doing to me! For all you know, it could kill me. It came pretty damn close just then."
Mike knew the truth in this, but it did nothing to change his mind. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a revolver and tossed it to Linnea, who caught it clumsily.
"Then go find out what it does to you and get it fixed."

Linnea knew what Mike wanted her to do, and she wasn't pleased.Flipping the gun around, she took a ready stance and pointed it at Mike.
"It would be much simpler to kill you."
His laugh was chilling.
"Do that and you'll have a thousand people after your blood in Oakshire alone."
She didn't move. Her mind was in chaos; she wasn't thinking clearly. All she knew was that he intended to force her to continue torturing herself and that she wasn't going to survive it. He spread his arms.
"Go ahead, if you're going to. If not, I have business to attend to."
She glared at him, then lowered the gun and tucked it into her back pocket.
"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow."

Tracking down Cassandra was relatively easy; Linnea knew where she worked. The lab was downtown in one of the many buildings on the University campus. It was broad daylight when Linnea pulled out the gun. She no longer cared who saw her. All of her being was focused on confronting the woman she had sworn never to see again. Just the sight of her plastic face sent a tingle of fear down Linnea's spine. Cassandra looked surprised to see her.
"What do you want?"
She took a step toward Linnea, intending to subdue her unruly daughter.
"Don't move another inch."
Linnea pointed the gun directly between Cassandra's eyes.
"I want the truth. And I intend to get it."