CHAPTER THREE
Natasha stumbled into her safe house in a worse state than she had ever being in. She had at least managed to stop the worst of the bleeding through a makeshift bandage, though occasional drops of blood still fell. She had removed the arrows, the pain causing her to briefly pass out, and had dumped them in the river. Her suit was a mess, torn up, bloodied, and pin cushioned until it wasn't even fit for rags.
Her safe house in question was in the south side of town, in a little corner of the city where the large arms of the law failed to reach. It was a den of outlaws, where the desperate and the dangerous gathered to scheme and plot. To most, the crime infested south was a place to avoid at all costs, a story told by mothers to scare children into behaving, but to Natasha, it was home, or at least, it had been for the past few weeks.
She passed through a broken board in a window, wincing at a pain in her ribs, the door was always locked and boarded up to provide the illusion of this place being abandoned, she doubted anyone could trace her, not with her skills, but still, it didn't hurt being too careful.
The building used to be a nursery for children, built by an eccentric business man who did not like to take no for an answer. Things went well for a while, but not long after a gang fight broke out, and the building was set on fire, destroying most of the property and rendering all but two rooms unusable.
Natasha's room was exactly how she left it. Daggers were thrown everywhere, with some impaled to the wall, though most were impaled into the straw dummy in the corner of the room. Disguises and not a few passports were scattered around, most of them mixed with currencies from other countries. The perpetual smell of smoke still lingered in the air, nothing seemed to be able to get that out. All in all, it was just the way she left it, except for the werewolf relaxing on her table.
Natasha moved grabbing a dagger from the floor and throwing it with some much force it caused her to wince. The werewolf turned, as if he knew the dagger was coming, and caught it at the hilt just inches from his face.
"I would think that there were more gentle ways to entertain visitors, wouldn't you?" He said jokingly, all the while inspecting the knife, "by the way, this is some fine silver you got here, though the workmanship could've been...." The werewolf was interrupted by a punch to the face, he sidestepped to the left, just barely, the punch missing his face by millimeters, one second later and he would have lost some teeth.
"Hey...." He said, but he couldn't complete it, Natasha gave him no time to recover, she attacked, punching and kicking and flipping, until all the werewolf could do was barely dodge.
"Hey," He said again, this time catching her hand before she could punch again, he held her wrist, gently but firmly, and pulled her close, until Natasha was close enough to smell him, he smelled like trees and rain, of a place unexplored. He looked her in the eyes, his almost a glowing sea of gold in the dark night, he said, his voice filled with sincerity "I'm not here to fight you." And for some reason, some part of Natasha believed him.
Natasha removed her hands from his, and walked to the side and picking up a bottle of water, she opened the cap and drank it all in seconds, throwing the bottle into the basket that served as a trash bin. Why was her heart racing so much all of a sudden, it probably had to do with the fight, that was all.
"So," Natasha said, turning around to face him, "If, as you say, you aren't here to kill me, who are you? And more importantly, what do you want?" she asked, while slipping the dagger she took from the bottle into her wrist where she could easily retrieve it, just because she trusted him didn't mean she forgot what the werewolves did to her mother.
"You could hold as many knives as you want, it still won't change the fact that I'm not here to fight." He said, his lips curving slightly into what could be a smile, and a twinkle in his eye, he looked as if he was enjoying this.
Natasha grimaced, this man had seen through it, and from the way he moved earlier, she could tell he was highly skilled, she was no match for him in her injured state, though she was positive if she was well she could wipe that grin off his face. "I noticed you didn't answer either of the questions."
Now that Natasha wasn't fighting, she actually studied him. He looked young, younger than she thought at first. He was around her age, which placed him around twenty, though he could be slightly older. He was tall, around six feet, and athletically built, with sandy brown hair that was just slightly ruffled. Unlike most his age, he stood with a quiet confidence, embracing his height like he knew he was to be in charge of anywhere he walked in. The look was only slightly spoiled by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, like he had just fooled everyone and seemed to get away it. Natasha did not like that look.
He wore a liquid metal outfit similar to Natasha's, though while hers was torn and dripping blood, his was still fresh, skin tight, clinging to every muscles in his body. His smile had the same mysterious feature as his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying himself. He carried no weapons, or at least, none that Natasha could see.
"A wise man once said, the most patient man enjoys the greatest peace," He replied, and continued smiling, as if enjoying the suspense.
In reply, Natasha gave him a long look, until he sighed and shook his head, mumbling something, Natasha caught the word, 'fun killer' and smiled, though she hid it quickly.
"Okay," He said, then paused and took a deep breath, as if resigning himself to a fate he was willing to gamble on, regardless of the consequences. "I am Ashier of the Fangris," He said. "And I am here because I have need of your services."
"So Ashier, you want to hire me, huh. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not a dog to fetch on another's command, I don't work for money." She said, turning around, this was pointless after all. "Better luck on your next assassin, hope she doesn't maim that pretty face of yours for breaking into her house."
He chuckled, then corrected, "It seems you mistake me, I never said I would be paying in money."
She turned around, only to see him smiling, the nerve of him, but now he had her attention, and worse, he knew it. "I don't want to pay you in money, and I sincerely doubt you'd accept, seeing as you go around spreading your gifts generously." That earned him a scowl from Natasha, and he laughed, as if that was what he wanted.
"In truth, what I offer is to pay you in information, my spies in the Arnia werewolves would definitely had picked up that tonight's endeavor was an ambush, and if we had played our cards right, we might've been able to ambush your ambushers." He paused, knowing he had her now, and stared at her tattered suit, "You know what, I might just throw in new gear for free, on the house."
Natasha scowled, she seemed to be doing a lot of that around him, he was definitely annoying, no doubt about that, yet.... "Why?" She asked.
"Why... what?"
"Why me? Why go through all the trouble of tracking me, you could probably have had a hundred assassins already in a fraction of the time you used to track me, so why take the risk, for all you know, I could've killed you first and asked questions later. I need to know why."
"Because you are Wolfsbane, the hunter of predators, the greatest assassin of the era, besides..." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "The Alpha of the Arnia werewolves, Thane Darkwood, has a debt to repay, and I think you are my best shot at repaying it."
"And that is worth your life?"
"My life and more if I can drag that scoundrel down with me. So," He said, extending his hand, "Do we have a deal?"
Natasha hesitated for a moment, then went to clasp his hand in hers, his hand was rough, used to handling the smooth handle of diverse weapons. Quick as a flash, Natasha twisted, until she was behind him and a knife was at his throat, she moved it close, until the sharp point was pricking his skin. "One last question, how am I sure you aren't one of them?"
He smiled at that, as if a knife wasn't at his throat. He whispered, his scent of trees and forests flowing off him. "You don't, isn't that fun?"
She grunted, pushing him away, he stumbled, then righted himself, putting a hand to his neck where a thin line of blood flowed, "I suppose that's a yes, then?" He asked, and Natasha wondered what she would have to do to wipe that smile off his face.
"Fine, I agr....." Natasha was interrupted mid speech by the sound of her alarm, she had set it as a bird cooing twice, but in a distinct way no bird in the area could sound. Natasha stiffened, the alarm was set to sound only on one condition. She ran to the window, her entire body protesting, but she had to see, she had to be sure.
Sure enough, outside her house, roughly fifty meters and lessening, were about two dozen werewolves, and at the lead were, of course, Zhen Zi and his employer. They were progressing slowly, as if cautious of traps, that would have been a problem, if she had any traps, but for now it worked to her advantage.
"I take it that you were followed, and from your expression, there are even more than both of us could handle, especially in your current state." Ashier said, the playfulness gone from his eyes, now replaced it something dangerous, Natasha smiled, she had always wondered what it would be like to have a partner like her.
Natasha did the math in her head, it would take the incoming force roughly two minutes to reach here. She knew this entire building was being watched from all directions, there were probably even snipers waiting to shoot once they see her. She was boxed in.... or was she?
"Come on," She whispered to Ashier, pulling him by the hand, "We don't have much time." She looked around, what could she not replace or might need in the next few hours. She grabbed a few knives and some money in different currencies, just in case. Her sword still hung in its sheath.
Natasha grabbed a lighter from the table, and lit up a fuse. "That should detonate in about a minute and a half, we don't want to be here when it does." She whispered urgently, then grabbed his hand, leading him to a wooden and slightly charred door. She opened it, the door creaking slightly. Inside was a flight of stairs that went down into darkness.
"That, is a very long flight of stairs," Ashier, at least his playfulness was back.
Natasha scowled, slightly, she did not seem to like his jokes. A twinkle shone at the corner of his eye, and she scowled deeper. She grabbed him and pulled him down, shutting the door behind her. Already she could here to werewolves getting closer, they were moving faster than she had thought.
In the near pitch blackness of the underground tunnel, it took a second for Natasha's vision to adjust. Ashier looked back, raising a questioning eyebrow, then she mouthed Quiet. He then shook his head, as if he was being told to breathe.
The air in the tunnel was stale, and the lower they went, the staler it became, taking on the musty scent of dust and mildew. Very soon, the stairs changed from wood to stone, and after a while, they came across a stone door, which took both of them straining to open. After that, the stairs all went upward.
As the duo climbed up the stairs, a large boom shook the tunnel, causing it to vibrate, shaking bits of dust and stone from atop the wall. Ashier looked back when he steadied himself, shock and surprise evident upon his face, she smiled in response, he probably hadn't expected so much.
A few minutes later, they came up from an abandoned building about half a mile east from where the werewolves attacked. They climbed up, pulling themselves up to the flat wooden roof. In the night, the burning building shone like a fallen star. Natasha hoped they had all died in the explosion, but even she doubted it, Zhen Zi was too good to be taken out so easily, and he would rather die than see his employer fall like that. Still, there was no crime in hoping.
"Well, that was fun, it's not every night you almost die from fiery explosion, makes you actually value the importance of life, you know?" He said, giving her a playful nudge on the arm.
"Are you ever serious?" Natasha asked, surprised to find herself genuinely curious.
"What's the fun in that?" He replied, turning and walking away. "Come on," He called, "I know a place that's not far from here."
It turned out that Natasha and Ashier had very different views on the meaning of 'not far'. They walked on for the better part of an hour, taking so many side streets and back alleys that Natasha suspected Ashier was making it intentionally long and confusing as a joke.
The walk was mostly uneventful, except for the one time three cut-throats who hadn't seen a soap bar for years had ambushed them, they were humans, and Natasha almost felt sorry for them, at least Ashier had left them alive, mostly.
After enough twists and turns to make Natasha's head spin, they arrived at the location. It was not large, about two stories, and was painted in a fading green. Ashier walked to what Natasha had first mistaken for part of the wall, but turned out to be a door. Instead of a lock by the side, it was a number keypad. Ashier moved close, typing in the number pin so fast Natasha could not catch anything apart from the first five numbers. He looked back and smile, as if he knew what going through her mind, Insufferable man.
The keypad clicked, shining a faint green. Ashier put his hand on the door handle and pulled the door open, revealing the inside. "Welcome to my humble abode." He exclaimed, and bowed, like a master performer waiting for her standing ovation, and Natasha had to admit, she was impressed.
While on the outside the building looked almost run-down and in ill repair, its state on the inside was a different matter. It was bigger than Natasha originally thought, and built like a mansion. The inside was painted a shining white, decorated with bits of gold here and there, and chandeliers shining down from the ceiling. Even at a glance, Natasha could tell that everything was expensive. The house smelled fresh, and it took Natasha a second to place that scent, it was lavender.
Natasha looked at Ashier, wondering where he had gotten all these, but, seeing the unasked question in her eyes, he chose to ignore it. "Come," he said, pulling her along "Let me show you your room, I trust you must be tired."
He pulled her, gently but firmly, along the mansion, his hands warm and full of life against hers. He led them through stairs, twists and turns, navigating through the maze-like rooms until they finally arrived at a door that said 'Wolfsbane'.
She looked at him, her eyebrow raised questioningly, he shrugged "I thought you might like it."
"How did you know I will accept?" She asked.
"Well look at it this way, if you had never accepted, no one would've known I put this there." He replied, smirking.
She chuckled, "Good night, Ashier." She said as she opened the door.
"Good night, Wolfsbane." He replied, turning to leave, and Natasha was shocked to find herself sad to see him go.