Post 2: Adrian

Although working for her was lucrative in being the first step in the door to a long career, Candice Tabakov was a pain in the rear end. First off, she had been one of the best authors with the best marketing strategies, about ten years ago. Secondly, she decided there was more money being behind the talent than actually being the talent and became an editor. She was inspiration for wannabe editors everywhere but to be her assistant was one of the worst jobs one could have. That is, unless you were really great at your job like Adrian was and could potentially become editor yourself one day. It still took the best grades in college, a pretty face and an ability to hold three cups of coffee in one hand, scribbling on a notepad in the other all the while talking on the phone with god knows who. That was Candice’s type of employee and Adrian excelled at it everyday. If Adrian didn’t actually like her job she would have quit long time ago but she was stuck in it for the long haul, since the moment she was picked for the position.

Adrian remembered the first day she met Candice. A group of English majors from NYCU been called in for a position as a receptionist at Tabakov and Associates almost a year ago. She’d been postgrad for almost three months and determined to find a job just about anywhere. About halfway through the interviewing process, before it was even Adrian’s turn, Candice had stopped on her way out and said she was hired.

“You…with the pretty eyes and the too long hair, you come.” For such a successful author her English seemed to be only so-so but Adrian had guessed that was what editor’s editors were for and ran after her. “You don’t have to run. I am merely walking.” The woman had said, matter of fact, despite the fast pace via her long legs. From that day forth she seemed to take an instant dislike to her and kept her constantly doing the menial jobs. Then one day Adrian sat at her desk outside of Candice’s office and heard the most important words of her career.

“I’m bored with this one; you may edit it and bring it back.” Candice had spoken softly as if she knew Adrian was listening intently. Luckily, Adrian did a great job on the project and was given the credit and recognition with the client. Since then Candice no longer barked beautifully, she spoke with respect. She respectfully asked Adrian to fetch her coffee.

Coming back to the present, Adrian sighed and narrowly missed the curb as she stepped down. She smiled softly, hoping no one saw her misstep, and wrapped her arms around her waist. Candice was gone to Aruba for an overdue vacation with the lead assistant Bernadette. She’d basically given her the summer off and paid up her rent so she wouldn’t feel “tempted” to find another job elsewhere. She’d merely smiled when Adrian exclaimed with joy but allowed herself to be hugged. Adrian knew Candice wasn’t the cold woman everyone thought she was; The Russian Queen, they called her.

A door opening on her right drew her attention to a small café. She’d walked further than she thought. Just as she began to turn around Adrian tilted her head to the side looking at the sign above the door. I’ve never even noticed this place here before. I wonder if it’s new, she thought. Stepping up to the glass, Adrian looked just inside the window and watched five men come to stand in a circle around two crouching men. One man on the ground looked frightened and had a black eye, his hair was disheveled and his clothes looked bloody. The other man on the ground was well groomed despite the slight unruliness of his shoulder length hair. He held a hand just above the injured man’s heart and seemed to be praying, his eyes closed. She watched as the praying man then looked up and locked eyes with the bloody man. It seemed like an eternity that they lay there, staring at each other.

As little as she knew what was going on, Adrian felt a sudden dip in her mood. She shook her head, as a distressing cloud seemed to fill her mind; a heavy weight dropped on her chest and labored her breathing. A seemingly dark mist surrounded the battered man. It was as if she could feel his soul blackening as a soft light poured from the prayer’s eyes. The two energies melted together, like a channel between the two men. She couldn’t turn away her eyes as she noticed the praying man’s body soften. Then, as if he lost all his strength, he hunched over. His shoulders fell forward and his head lolled all the while their eyes remained locked in the death stare. The feeling dissipated, instantly, as she saw one of the five standing men reach down and snap the injured man’s neck. The darkness left the lifeless body, whishing up and entered the standing man’s hands. He straightened and Adrian was instantly drawn to him, she sighed softly as his face turned slightly in her direction. She knew she should be frightened because he’d just murdered someone but for some reason that could wait, for just a few more seconds. She saw then, the praying man seemed to regain his strength. He stood, unstable, to his feet.

She then remembered she was out in the open, standing before the window and should anyone really look her way they’d spot her. Instantly taking a step back, Adrian stumbled against the wall until she reached the alley just to the side of the café. Her mind spun, shifting, emotions swirled and spiked. The thoughts jumbled inside her head and Adrian stood there, leaning against the wall for what seemed like years. Someone just got murdered, he just reached down and…and killed him; I can’t believe I just saw that. Should I call the police? I don’t know what to do. I mean, what CAN I do? They didn’t see me, right? I didn’t really see anything. I don’t even know what happened. I should just…

A scuffling sounded behind her, further into the alley, and Adrian froze. Unsure what to do, Adrian stumbled backwards, toward the street. Just as she stepped around the corner back toward the café, Adrian heard quick steps on the pavement. Eyes widening, Adrian gasped as a man, standing about 6’5, peeked around the corner. Throwing her hands up, Adrian jumped back, an odd tingling feeling coursed through her fingers. Just as a wave of adrenaline bursts through her body the man cringed in pain before disappearing. Seconds later, she sucked in her breath as warmth pressed against her from behind, he was pushing her back into the alleyway. She knew almost instantly when the knife came to her throat and closed her eyes.

“It’s…a woman.” Without opening her eyes, Adrian knew almost instantly the killer from the inside of the cafe had spoken. For some reason she felt relieved but didn’t dare relax as the knife was still pressed to her jugular. The next few moments went by in a confusing flash. Opening her eyes as the killer's voice sounded behind her, Adrian was shocked to see his own knife pressed against his friend’s throat as she was let go. She turned slowly until she faced him but still had the others in her sight, she wouldn’t dare turn her back on any of them. They all stood nearly as tall as the first man, intimidation dripping from their bodies. Looking up into his eyes, a windstorm blew through her mind jumbling her thoughts again. He stepped towards her, slowly. The closer he got the louder the storm rushed through her mind; the more the hairs on her arms stood at attention. She felt claustrophobic; he was crowding her space, her mind, pleasantly?

“You…killed that man. The man back in the café,” she spoke and stepped back again. She couldn’t hear anything else he said but watched his lips as they moved. He seemed to be trying to comfort her in some way but the rush in her mind had grown so loud she could only feel the words reverberate against her ears and the pleasure her body felt at receiving them. She felt comforted, slightly, though she couldn’t hear him.

“Come, I’m here to protect you.” She snorted. Yeah right! She looked behind him at the men standing at his back; most held long swords almost the length of their legs. They looked like warriors. Their hard eyes stared at her with intensity, mouths tight and hands touching the hilts of their swords. One, the prayer, stood with a perplexed look on his face. Another man, standing just left of the killer, leaned against the wall with his mouth in a crooked smile, almost uncaring; though his eyes still watched her. They seemed confused but didn’t look like they’d hurt her, maybe. Looking up, Adrian’s brows rose as she locked eyes with the killer. The rush in her mind died instantly.

“…Don’t worry, they will protect you too.” For some reason, Adrian believed him. This is definitely a dream! She knew it was real; there was no doubt that it was real. It’s definitely a dream, she thought as she reached out and took the hand the killer had extended. A shock of pleasure rolled through her body, like a wave of ultimate happiness, as they touched. It felt good, too good. Who is he? Could she really be reacting this way…to a murderer?

“Don’t be scared.” Vectio spoke with his palms out towards her; they were the first words he’d said all month. Did he just speak? Did he sound concerned? Technik’s voice sounded out again in their minds but rang playful this time.

“I shouldn’t be scared but you’re snapping necks and holding swords?” The woman seemed to be trying to gather courage but shifted her weight to hide behind Hunter’s crumpled body. For a strange reason, she couldn’t quite put her finger on, she felt safe around him. It was as if she knew he’d protect her no matter what.

“He wasn’t human and I have a strange feeling that neither are you.” The moment the words left Julius’ mouth he knew they were a mistake. If the women didn’t know about the otherworldly she did now. The look on the woman’s face seemed genuinely shocked but they weren’t usually this easily fooled. It was hard to tell if she was just playing with them or if she knew exactly what he meant when she dropped Hunters hand to cover her mouth. Her lips moved but no words came out.

Hunter frowned at his team and placed both hands on her shoulders. Instantly a feeling of happiness filled him. He couldn’t speak but continued to look down into her eyes. He’d believe anything she said if she’d touch him back. Hunter narrowed his eyes as her hands began to ascend towards his chest; it was as if she read his mind. Her hands settled against his breast and he felt a storm rage in his veins.

She gasped as his eyes suddenly rolled back and he crumpled to the cement before her. Hands stretched before her, Adrian looked incredulously at her fingers, gasped as the tips tingled and felt singed as if burned. She’d barely touched him before he went down. Did I hurt him? She bent beside him and went to touch his face. What had she done?

"The only way to be a writer is to write, write and write. The only way...is to write." -Irma Jemison