The Syndicate (6 page)

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I have to go.”

Nearly tripping over her own feet, she darts out of the room, leaving me to get my shot and stitches, all the while wondering why my tattoo scared the living daylights out of my target.

I
’m back home, lying in bed with my side still aching from my self-inflicted wound. Many things are racing through my mind. Mostly pain and regret, as I wonder why I had to cut the muscle too. But then there’s confusion and frustration. Frustration because I can’t get images of Riley out of my mind, and confusion because I know something’s off.

I turn over every detail, and the way she bolted at the sight of my tattoo tells me she knows about my family. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing more than a circle with maze-like lines inside. Not anything scary. So, in order for her to react like that, she had to know what it standsfor, and focusing on that does it. It makes me realize that she thought I was coming for her, because she
does
have intentions of ruining my family.

I throw my covers back and dress. It’s after midnight, and I had every intention of killing her tomorrow night, but the urge to do it now is overwhelming me. And if I don’t go this very moment, I might lose the motivation.

It takes me thirty minutes to cross into Virginia from my house. I’m actually relieved that I’m not killing a Hybrid. The stitches in my side would make it difficult to fight a true Hybrid. But this girl, I could handle with a thousand stitches.

Her apartment is on the bottom level, and I immediately have thoughts of how unsafe it is for a young girl to live alone on the ground floor. Especially in such a heavily wooded area. What kind of parents did she have?

I consider going through the window, but decide it would be just as easy to pick her lock. After making sure no one’s around, I easily slide into her foyer.

It’s dark and I turn to silently close the door. Before I take my hand off the knob, the scent of mangos and strawberries sails up my nose just as I hear the cock of a shotgun behind me. I want to pounce, but something in me feels pleasure that this won’t be such an easy kill. She’s actually prepared to protect herself.

“Do
not
move,” she says, turning on the light.

I can sense her nervousness, although she’s trying her hardest to sound strong.

“How did you know I’d come?” I ask, trying not to smile.

“Shut up,” she says, pushing the barrel into my back. “I knew it was only a matter of time. I’ve had nightmares about you.”

Now I’m confused. “What?”

“Well, not of you, but of your
tattoo
,” she says through gritted teeth.

Now I sense distaste in her tone, and I translate it as hate for my family. She’s not afraid of me. She loathes me, and suddenly I have no doubt that she would kill me and all of my brothers if she could.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I say, estimating the distance between us, and within seconds I turn around, push the barrel away, and spin her into a chokehold. I swiftly reach for my dagger and press it to her throat.

Mangos and strawberries. I hold my breath, knowing that the scent will haunt me forever. I close my eyes and shake the thought, leaving just enough of a pause for her to react. With as much strength as she has, she smashes her elbow into my stitches, causing my knees to buckle.

I grab for my side and look up in time to see the shot gun in my face. Her finger is on the trigger and it’s shaking far more than I’d like. I curse myself for my weakness—for actually letting this girl overtake me.

I put my hands up in submission, still holding my dagger. Her arms are shaking, and I know she’s going to do it.

“What do you want from me?” she asks, her bottom lip nearly quivering.

I think about an answer and then come up empty. “I don’t know.”

“Damn it!” she shouts, the barrel now against my forehead.

I’m certain she’s going to snap on me, but instead she breaks down and cries. Right there. Real tears. Sobbing into an emotional wreck with the gun still pointed at me.

“I’m sorry. But you’re making me nervous with that in my face.”

I say it even though it’s actually a small price to pay for encroaching on her property with the intent to kill, but, instead of laughing at my ridiculous statement or shooting me out of fear or anger, she backs away.

She’s either going to let me walk out of here or call the cops. Either way, if she makes it any farther away from me, I won’t get another chance. She’ll have that gun pointed at me from a distance. If I rush her, she’ll shoot me for sure, and if I leave, she’ll call the police. There’s no walking away from this, because she knows my name.

I make the quick decision to lunge for her legs. The gun swings out of her grasp and they both fall to the floor. I flip her over and lay on top of her, holding my breath in an effort to keep her scent away. After a short pause, I find my hands lifting her head to expose her throat. I expect her to scream, but she just sobs.

It’s by far the strangest encounter I’ve ever had with a target, and my brain is trying so hard to slice her throat with this blade. But no matter how much I will it, my hand won’t move. I focus harder, but only see my sister’s face, and my mother’s.

In all the ways I spin it, I know doing this wouldn’t make them proud. I sigh in frustration, breathing for the first time, and the scent of mangos and strawberries races up my nose. And now I’m on the verge of a breakdown too.

“I can’t do it.” I think, realizing I’ve also said it out loud.

I cringe, because I’ve shown weakness to the target, which is a violation of rule number one. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter. I can’t think straight, and all I know is that I’m laying on top of this girl with her face pressed into the carpet, and I can’t do it.

I drop my knife and release her hair.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She still sobs. “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

I don’t even know what to do at this point. I’m sitting here, terrifying this girl, for what? The thought makes me sick, and, before I know it, I stand up and hand her the shotgun to prove it. She snatches it and crawls over to the wall, shaking profusely. I tell her again that I won’t hurt her.

She clenches her eyes shut and continues to cry. Within a few minutes, she unexpectedly drops her gun. I’m tempted to bolt out of there, but can’t stop from inching my way over to where she sits.

I kneel in front of her, not having a clue of what to do. I have no experience failing at an attack, and even less in dealing with female emotions.

“Look, I’m not sure what’s going on here,” I say, reaching for her knee. She flinches away, and though something tells me to just get up and walk away, I can’t. My emotions have never been so twisted and confused. Not only do I not
want
to leave, my body’s being pulled to her like a magnet.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Suddenly, as if gaining a bolt of built-up anger, she snaps at me with fire in her deep olive eyes. “Then why did you come here?”

I see hatred staring at me, and I can’t tell if it’s because she wants to kill my family or if she’s angry that I just tried to kill her, and then I realize it doesn’t matter.

“Look—”

“No,
you
look. I don’t want to be haunted by you anymore. So if you’re going to kill me, just do it already. I’m tired of the constant fear.”

“What? Wait, what are you afraid of?”

She starts laughing, and suddenly I realize the absurdity of the question.

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was stupid. But I mean, you said you have nightmares. About me?”

“No, just of that symbol on your arm. And monsters,
a lot
of monsters.” She looks at me pleadingly. “I don’t want to live like this anymore. My mom had the same nightmares, and she’s insane now.”

What I’m hearing is a complete contradiction of what I thought I knew. She thinks
we’re
a threat to her.

“If you don’t kill me now,” she continues, talking quickly, “you’ll just keep killing me in my dreams, and I’ll go crazy. Then they’ll lock me up too. So, please, just do it.”

Wow. Is this girl serious?
Now she’s asking me to kill her. Can this mission get any more whacked?

“Listen, I’m not going to kill you, and I’m not going to haunt your dreams.”

“Then
what
do you want from me?”

I’m speechless, unsure how to answer, so I take a few moments to gather my thoughts. For the first time, I pay closer attention to her and notice her mint green and pink polka-dot pajamas. I contain a smile and for some reason decide on the truth.

“I was sent here…to kill you.”

Although she had to know that already, she looks like I’ve punched her in the stomach. Her head shakes.

“It’s the truth,” I say, looking away. “But I can’t do it, so you don’t have to worry.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“Because you’re a girl, and we don’t kill females.”

“Who is
we
?”

I look at her, not getting the question.

“You said ‘we don’t kill girls.’ Who is
we
?”

It’s not a question I’m prepared for, but, if I’m ever going to get out of this apartment without her calling the police, I better be somewhat forthcoming. Repositioning myself against the wall closer to her, I start explaining. Henri is going to be furious, but I don’t see any other way.

“My family…we are protectors.”

I hear a little laugh. Even though I’ve just attacked her, I feel defensive.

“We are,” I explain. “We’re supposed to protect society from things called Hybrids.”

“Hybrids?” she asks, her voice steady and less shocked than I expected. I glance her way and see her waiting patiently, and it gives me the urge to continue.

“Yes. They’re creatures who bite humans, infecting them with a virus that will eventually cause the person to become extremely dangerous. My family has been around for centuries, and we seek them out and kill them before they can overrun society.”

“And you’re here because you think
I’m
a Hybrid?”

“No. Hybrids can’t be females. Honestly, I’m here because I was just ordered to kill you.”

“Why?” she presses.

“My Elder believes you’ll be the cause of my family’s downfall. And if we fall, the Hybrids will take over.”

“I see,” she says cautiously.

I’m not sure what to say next, because I’ve just dropped a bomb on her. I’ve informed her not only that monsters are real, but that she could be the ruin of the people who can rid the earth of them.

I’m still at a loss for words when she speaks up. “I can pretty much assure you I’m
not
the cause of your family’s downfall. I couldn’t even kill one of you when I had a gun pointed at your face. How the heck am I supposed to wipe out all of you?”

It hits me that she’s got a point, although, somewhere inside, I already knew she was no killer. If she can’t kill me, an attacker, when she had three easy chances, then she can’t kill anyone else. This girl is not a threat. So why in the hell was I sent here?

I stand to leave. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t hurt you. Please don’t call the police.”

I make my way to the door when she lunges after me. “Please. Don’t leave.”

I turn, doing my best to ease away from her grip.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “I just tried to kill you.”

Practically clutching me, she pleads, “Please, you can’t go yet.” Fighting the scent of her shampoo or whatever it is, I step farther away from the strangest situation I’ve ever been in. “Please. You’ve shown me that I’m not crazy. You made me see that my dreams aren’t made up. There are monsters, and that symbol exists. Don’t you see? I thought the symbol was on the monsters, but it isn’t.”

Something in me wants to stay with her, but I just can’t. My mind is clouded and my emotions are twisted. I need to go.

“I’m sorry, Riley, but I can’t stay here. I have to go home and try to make sense of this.”

“What’s there to make sense of?” she shoots back, stepping closer.

“Let’s see, how about the fact that I was sent on a mission to kill an innocent girl who is supposed to kill my whole family of elite assassins, only she can’t kill a fly. And how about the fact that this same girl has had nightmares of Hybrids.” Her shoulders drop as she realizes her own mental well-being is not the only one at stake here. “So, please, I need to go, so I can think. I’m sorry.
Again.
But you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going to come back to hurt you.”

And with that last promise, I walk out of her apartment, feeling more confused than ever. And something else is surfacing inside. An unfamiliar sense of yearning. And oddly, the more I think about it, and the farther away I drive, I realize that it’s a faint yearning to be near Riley Bennett.

M
y brothers and I have never talked about any of our missions, but tonight I need to talk Guard to Guard, with someone who thinks like me.

It’s 2 a.m. when I knock on Dani’s door. He doesn’t answer, but he sleeps like a baby, so I knock harder. After a few minutes, he cracks open the door enough for me to plow my way through. His blond hair, which is normally perfectly feathered over his forehead, is shockingly all over the place.

“What the hell time is it?” he mumbles.

“Two,” I answer back unapologetically.

“This better be good, bro.”

“Oh, it is,” I say, finding myself pacing his room like Rosie does mine.

When I finally gather my thoughts, I spill. Not even hesitant to do so, because I trust him.

“Dani, what I’m about to tell you, you have to
swear
not to mention to anyone,
especially
Henri.” Now his groggy expression turns to confusion. “Look, I know we aren’t supposed to keep secrets in the Syndicate, but this is big, and I need help making sense of it.”

“All right.” Out of habit, he starts combing his hair forward with his palm. “Stop wearing a hole in my rug and sit down.”