The Black Rose

As my eyes stirred, visions from last night paraded across my mind like a fairytale. I didn’t have a single nightmare in what felt like eternity. Mia’s touch, the way her body responded to mine, it stirred the deep recesses of my heart. For the first time in my life, I felt hope. Hope that my existence went beyond a constant regimen of pills and murders.

My head turned to stare at the empty bed next to me. Oh, how I wished Mia was there, but instead flashes of all the women and men that came before assaulted my high. I closed my eyes, wishing the darkness away. I only wanted to see the light. The way the light danced across Mia’s lightly freckled skin. I sighed.

Ding.

My arm zipped over to the nightstand. What if it was Mia? My breath hitched waiting to see whose name would flash across my screen. It was Damien. My lips soured.

The Devil: Be ready in an hour.

Me: Sir. Yes. Sir. Dad.

I glanced at my texts. I had missed one from Mia. My eyes widened.

Mia: Thank you for last night. I can’t stop thinking about it.

I lurched, my feet hitting the wood floor with a thud. Mia couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. I held the device to my heart and took a deep exhale. Composed, I let my thumbs fly.

Me: I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. So much so, I didn’t fall asleep until five am. I have some work stuff to handle today, but could we do lunch or dinner on Tuesday?

This “work stuff” might be the nail in my coffin. I looked at my phone. Ugh. It was one-thirty already. I had slept a lot.

I whisked my way to the closet, pulling out a pair of black jeans and a black tank top. If I was going to be dragged back to Shadow, I had to be ready for anything. Dressing, I moved to the bathroom and combed my frazzled hair. After a mere thirty minutes, I was presentable, and after another thirty, I had managed to combine my breakfast and lunch into one singular meal.

Ding.

The Devil: Downstairs.

I rolled my eyes finishing the last bite of my breakfast burrito. Here goes nothing.

I walked to the front door of my luxurious loft and paused taking in the scene. I didn’t know how the next twenty-four hours would go, or whether I would even be able to return.

I had made a rash decision that at the time of my death, all the data and all the files would be sent to Mo and Cassy. They would know what to do with them. The chip that Shadow inserted, that monitored my vitals, once it read zero, my chip, the chip I had purchased on the black market and planted strategically within my ribcage, it would send the files.

Not a single soul knew about the chip planted below my skin behind my fourth rib. I must admit, it took dexterous hands and astounding clarity to perform surgery on oneself, but I managed. My secrets, my story, were literally within me.

“Hi,” I muttered, opening the door to the black Escalade that would take us to Shadow’s private plane. The plane’s windows would be blacked out, so we couldn’t see where we were going, and of course, when we landed, we would be blind-folded until we were safely in the confines of Shadow.

“How was last night?” Damien asked as I was barely in the car.

“Well, you sure know how to initiate a conversation. Ever heard of small talk?” I teased.

Damien licked his lips in restraint. I sighed and rolled my eyes beneath my big sunglasses.

“It went well. Mia showed me her lab, which between you and me is exquisite.”

“Did you record it?”

“Slow down,” I scoffed. “Of course, I did.” I shook my head, handing him the case with the glasses and chip from the watch. Hoping it wouldn’t be looked at until after I left.

“Now is not a time to joke,” he pursed. “I told you they weren’t happy with your last performance.”

“And I told you, they, whoever they are, can say it to my face.” I raised my glasses, his attitude pushing my ever so fragile buttons.

Damien observed my expression and frowned, “Careful what you wish for.”

“I’m always careful,” I muttered turning my head away from him to gaze out the window.

Ding.

I looked at my phone, it was Mia.

I angled it slightly away from Damien, careful to hide the involuntary grin that threatened to spread with her name.

Mia: Tuesday sounds perfect. Why don’t we do dinner? :)

I grin pushed at the recesses of my lips.

“What’s so funny?” Damien glared at me, his fuse awfully scarce today.

“Can I not have a little privacy, Dad? Geez. Are you like this with all your assassins?”

Damien shook his head, refusing to comment.

Me: How about you come to my place this time?

I thought about the text for a moment before hitting send. I was already on a path of no return. Mia seeing my place wouldn’t put her life in any more danger, besides, she would have the results by Tuesday. Hell, I may not even be alive by then.

“You’re my first,” Damien mumbled, startling me. My brows furrowed as I eyed him.

“You’re my first operative,” he said, a little more decisive.

“So, they gave me a newbie?” I stared at him with even more disdain.

“No,” he scoffed. “I’ve been with shadow for eight years. I used to do what you do, except I too found myself on thin ice. I guess this was my punishment,” he looked at me with the faintest flicker of a smile.

“I’m a punishment?” I huffed. If only he knew what I had in store.

“You think I want to be babysitting and giving orders?” his voice raised, but then he glanced at the driver and thought better of it. Was Damien trying to hint that he wanted out too? Did he want to elope with his secret man friend?

“How did you land on thin ice?” I pressed.

“I got like you,” he muttered. “I got so used to killing, so used to the sounds, the blood, the high, that reason, and logic faded. After you have killed so many like us, the world is different, we are different. Kind of like the fabled quote, you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” Damien gazed ahead at the seat, his eyes traveling through the darkness.

I sighed. He wasn’t wrong. How had he killed so many people too? How many other assassins were there? How many people has Shadow had killed?

“I suppose we were always the villains,” I added.

“Maybe you’re right,” he nodded.

I continued to stare out the window. I couldn’t imagine doing this for the rest of my life. I wasn’t even sure how long that was. I had only been altered for four years, and while I tended to heal faster, recover faster, run and jump faster, my strength ridiculous, my processing speed, sight, smell, were all uncanny, I didn’t know about aging.

Dr. Swartz, once secretly revealed to me that my cells regenerated at a speed hard to discern and quantify with our current technology. He believed my cells would regenerate and I could potentially live longer or age slower than other humans.

The black Escalade pulled alongside a side road connected to the L.A. airport. My mind was back on the task at hand. I watched carefully as we drove down a small service road passing hangar after hangar until we reached the end. In front of us was a black, sleek hangar, that stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest. Inside were two small jets. As we were waved through the security gate, I glanced down at my phone. Mia still hadn’t responded. Part of me wanted to text her and tell her goodbye, or to contact Mo and Cassy in case I was never heard from again. I placed my phone in the backseat of the car. No sense in bringing it. Damien did the same.

We both glanced at one another as the doors opened. Time to meet my makers.