live in Indiana, and people like us—“.
The men gunned and kicked their bikes towards her then darted away, not looking to see where their bikes had gone. They hadn’t aimed them, giving her plenty of time to dodge the clumsy things and vault off of her bike, pushing it into a heavy bush and hoping for the best. She was the faster runner, but they still had a two-hundred yard head start on her. They jumped into the canal—they’d split up now, hoping to lose her.
Backup’s a bitch, boys , Alexa thought, hurling herself down the canal. She went after the one whose energy signature was stronger. It was, in this case, the little one—though “little” for him still meant six feet, three hundred pounds, and ten days since he last showered.
“What are you?” he screamed at her. Above Alexa, zipping along the narrow, six-inch wide rim of concrete on her own motorcycle, was Lila. As the target watched, Lila pointed her motorcycle down the pipe, careened recklessly down the side, and fishtailed neatly to a stop.
“Well, it’s complicated—“, Alexa started to retort.
Lila was toying with her biker prey, now. When he went in one direction, she would block him. When he went in another, she was there, too. Then he turned around and Alexa could see him weigh his options—try to outrun her, fight her, or surrender peacefully? Why do the morons never surrender , Alexa groaned, as he pulled out his knife and ran at her, a crazed look in his eye.
Alexa slid to the side at the last second, and he stabbed nothing but air, his momentum bringing him down to his knees. He did have some martial arts training—he rolled through his fall—but that didn’t mean anything to Alexa. To Alexa, humans in general, even the most graceful ballet dancers, were slow, heavy, and clumsy creatures. She turned around to face him, and as he got to his feet, she planted a foot on his ass, and pushed him to his knees again.
“Edgar, so you want me to get on a plane, go to Indiana, and help you—“
As he scrambled to his feet, the target pulled out a gun from his boot and tried to aim it at her, but Alexa slammed her knee into his chest. He flailed backwards, and she caught his arm and twisted it. “Bad boy,” she murmured, feeling the sinews in his shoulders give suddenly. His hand reflexively twitched open, and the gun fell to the concrete with a solid clatter.
She didn’t hear Edgar’s answer over the screams, but people who were able to find her number usually did their homework—they knew her rates, they knew what she did. She backhanded the biker, knocking out three bloody teeth, and then picked up the dropped gun. She handed it to Lila and finally took off her helmet. It felt good to have the air on her skin again.
“—so it’d be really great if you could come as soon as possible.”
“Ten thousand dollar non-refundable retainer,” she said, shaking out her long black hair. It cascaded to her waist, so dark as to be almost blue. In the daylight, her eyes were blue, but they frequently looked green or grey, depending on the light. She was small for someone who did the kind of work she did, five-feet six inches, and the red-and-white leather gear she wore was cut to flatter her already slim figure.
“Done.”
Alexa was already thinking of calling Michael and Eve to let them know about the new client. Lila had emptied out the clip and ejected the live round. “You could’ve saved me some fun,” Lila said. Lila was taller, blonde, and classically beautiful, with large, innocent blue eyes. It was a deceptive beauty, though—Lila was one of the best fighters with a bladed weapon in the world. Even Alexa would have ended up dead several times, had their sparring weapons been real.
“The client wants them alive, not dead,” Alexa reminded her.
“Just having a little fun, boss. I wouldn’t have killed them.” In the distance,
The men gunned and kicked their bikes towards her then darted away, not looking to see where their bikes had gone. They hadn’t aimed them, giving her plenty of time to dodge the clumsy things and vault off of her bike, pushing it into a heavy bush and hoping for the best. She was the faster runner, but they still had a two-hundred yard head start on her. They jumped into the canal—they’d split up now, hoping to lose her.
Backup’s a bitch, boys , Alexa thought, hurling herself down the canal. She went after the one whose energy signature was stronger. It was, in this case, the little one—though “little” for him still meant six feet, three hundred pounds, and ten days since he last showered.
“What are you?” he screamed at her. Above Alexa, zipping along the narrow, six-inch wide rim of concrete on her own motorcycle, was Lila. As the target watched, Lila pointed her motorcycle down the pipe, careened recklessly down the side, and fishtailed neatly to a stop.
“Well, it’s complicated—“, Alexa started to retort.
Lila was toying with her biker prey, now. When he went in one direction, she would block him. When he went in another, she was there, too. Then he turned around and Alexa could see him weigh his options—try to outrun her, fight her, or surrender peacefully? Why do the morons never surrender , Alexa groaned, as he pulled out his knife and ran at her, a crazed look in his eye.
Alexa slid to the side at the last second, and he stabbed nothing but air, his momentum bringing him down to his knees. He did have some martial arts training—he rolled through his fall—but that didn’t mean anything to Alexa. To Alexa, humans in general, even the most graceful ballet dancers, were slow, heavy, and clumsy creatures. She turned around to face him, and as he got to his feet, she planted a foot on his ass, and pushed him to his knees again.
“Edgar, so you want me to get on a plane, go to Indiana, and help you—“
As he scrambled to his feet, the target pulled out a gun from his boot and tried to aim it at her, but Alexa slammed her knee into his chest. He flailed backwards, and she caught his arm and twisted it. “Bad boy,” she murmured, feeling the sinews in his shoulders give suddenly. His hand reflexively twitched open, and the gun fell to the concrete with a solid clatter.
She didn’t hear Edgar’s answer over the screams, but people who were able to find her number usually did their homework—they knew her rates, they knew what she did. She backhanded the biker, knocking out three bloody teeth, and then picked up the dropped gun. She handed it to Lila and finally took off her helmet. It felt good to have the air on her skin again.
“—so it’d be really great if you could come as soon as possible.”
“Ten thousand dollar non-refundable retainer,” she said, shaking out her long black hair. It cascaded to her waist, so dark as to be almost blue. In the daylight, her eyes were blue, but they frequently looked green or grey, depending on the light. She was small for someone who did the kind of work she did, five-feet six inches, and the red-and-white leather gear she wore was cut to flatter her already slim figure.
“Done.”
Alexa was already thinking of calling Michael and Eve to let them know about the new client. Lila had emptied out the clip and ejected the live round. “You could’ve saved me some fun,” Lila said. Lila was taller, blonde, and classically beautiful, with large, innocent blue eyes. It was a deceptive beauty, though—Lila was one of the best fighters with a bladed weapon in the world. Even Alexa would have ended up dead several times, had their sparring weapons been real.
“The client wants them alive, not dead,” Alexa reminded her.
“Just having a little fun, boss. I wouldn’t have killed them.” In the distance,
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