I awoke early the next afternoon, trying to scratch my arm and blocked by my bracers, moaning as I rolled out of my waterbed. I felt like something the cat drug in, half alive, half dead. I made it to the bathroom and realized I at least looked like what I felt. The mark on my arm was an angry red, the skin that oddly smooth scar tissue that only bad cuts develop. I was ashen, my normally lightly tanned skin pale, made paler by contrast with my almost black human hair. I still wore the outfit I'd worn the night before, much worse for wear from the fights, blood splattered and torn. My knees and hands still had blood on them, I noticed with a grimace, the entire evening prior coming back to me.
Forcing myself, I showered and got ready for work, though I had an hour to spare before I needed to leave. I'd need to eat before heading into work or I wouldn't be able to make it through my four hour shift.
I emerged from my room, at least looking nicer, decked out in my Bic Pic uniform of a blue knee length skirt, matching vest and long sleeved white shirt. I'd added makeup, a rarity for me, to hide the ashen tone of my skin. It had taken quite a bit of make up, more then I usually wore even if I was going for "glamorous."
Carefully, I took the blood-stained blankets and sheets from my bed and tossed them in a corner to clean on my next day off. Luckily none of it had gotten through to the pillow top of the waterbed mattress due to the high thread count of the sheets I used. Practical and posh.
Meele already had food laid out on the kitchen table, a small salad, bowl of rice and a plate almost overflowing with a red wine chicken that Meele was known for. High on protein and carbohydrates, just what the doctor ordered.
"I could kiss you," I said before plopping down on a chair. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started wolfing down food, not stopping to talk. Taking a drink of the coke Meele set down in front of me a few moments later I paused in my eating. "Why's my arm scared so badly? I've never had a wound do that before."
Meele answered as I ate, understanding that all the fighting and healing had taken a lot of energy. "Yukio is of the Ko'ori Neko Zoku along with his sister Shimori. The Ice Cats are just that- cats that use ice attacks. They're originally from northern Russia but immigrated here during the 1500's by European reckonings. One of their attacks is focusable through a sword or other metal blade. Yukio focused his ice magic through his sword and hit with it when he sliced your arm. He made sure that you'll bear the mark of his attack for the rest of your life."
"We shall see about that," I said haughtily. "I imagine I can do something about it."
"If anyone can, you can," Meele said. He stole a glance at the kitchen clock. "You need to go in a few moments. Oh, and Samu called for you earlier. I didn't want to wake you."
"Thanks," I said, pushing away from the table, stomach full. I felt much better, the food fueling energy that coursed through me. I rose from the table feeling about three quarters alive and found my cell phone in my purse. Dialing from memory, I sank onto the couch, feet up on the coffee table.
Samu picked up on the third ring. "Moshi-moshi."
"Hey, Samu," I said with a smile, though he couldn't see it.
"Cara," he said my name as if it were something special and warm. "One sec."
I could hear him yelling in the background, noise all around him before it suddenly grew quieter. I had to ask, "Where are you?"
"A meeting," he said evasively. "I can't really talk about it. How'd your thing go last night?"
"Better then I expected," I said with a sigh. "Not great, but no one died, so not that bad."
"That's a sorry standard," Samu chided me gently. "When you determine how good or bad something is by the carnage involved."
"Oh, if we're counting carnage it was pretty nasty," I said honestly. My watch chirped at me, reminding me I needed to go. I slipped into a bike suit to keep me warm as I talked to Samu. "Was a rather messy event, truth be told."
"Are you okay," he asked, concern in his voice.
"Of course," I told him. "I'm going to work tonight."
"Want to come get a drink with me afterward?"
"Hmmโฆ I work tomorrow at noon, so it will have to be a quick one," I said with a sigh. "You could come over to my place instead, you know- I get off at nineโฆ."
"So be there at nine-forty-five," Samu said, finishing my sentence. "That should give me time to get Danny home and transferred over to his night shift guard."
"Works for me," I said, fighting the stray thought that said tonight would be a good night to make the hit on Danny since Samu was out of the picture and would not be caught in the crossfire. "I'll see you then."
"Love you, sweetie."
"Love you, too," I answered back before he hung up. The words had slipped out without me planning it and it startled me. I did love Samu- I honestly really did love him. And I was going to kill his boss and best friend for money. Whether Samu was in the crossfire or not should not have been one of my major concerns and I knew that far too well.
I drove to work and went through the motions in a partial daze, my thoughts chasing after each other like a pack of dogs. If I really loved him, I'd turn the job down, refuse to make the kill. Pay Talon out of my pocket to make up his share. But I had never broken a contract before and I'd sworn Danny would die before the end of New Year's Day. My word or my heart, which had a stronger pull on me? I didn't have an answer for that at the moment, wish I did.
There weren't many customers, a blessing, leaving me free to think while I straightened shelves and put out new stock. I didn't reach a decision before closing time. I clocked out with everyone else and slipped back into my coverall. The streets were almost empty, the rest of the world seemingly asleep even though it was only 9:05 PM.
I scrubbed my face and changed once I got home. The jeans and t-shirt were hardly high fashion but I was comfortable and relatively presentable. I looked at the scar on my left arm, startled by how vicious it looked. It streaked like blue lightning down my forearm a good half-foot long and about two inches wide at most. I slipped my bracer back on, partly hiding the mark. Would take sleeves to hide it completely and I wasn't about to put on a long sleeved shirt. Meele kept the apartment far too warm for that.