Eve cursed to herself as she fled the warehouse, her pride in tatters as surely as her thoroughly ruined clothes. “Easy job my ass! Fuckers said he was just some clueless college brat, not a fucking expert swordsman! With magic! Fucking tenacious bastard too...”
Groaning in frustration, she clutched her severed arm tightly as she leapt over fences and darted through backyards with superhuman grace. While it wasn't the first time she had lost a fight, though she hardly counted it as a loss since she likely could have killed him, it was the first time she had lost against something that wasn't blatantly supernatural. Sure, she had lost a few fights. Other vampires? Werewolves, banshees, demons... Hell, even a fucking naagloshii! But humans, even witches and warlocks, had never given her too many problems. They were just too weak and slow.
But not Oliver.
Sure, he wasn't really a match for her, even with his guns and magical tricks. But, despite being at a disadvantage the entire time, he had managed to find leverage against her: Either give up and fail the job or he would fight to the death... Which would still count as failing the job.
“Hard-headed, frustrating bastard...” Eve muttered to herself as she crossed another empty intersection, before darting around a run down looking house. As she approached the back door, she awkwardly fished the keys out of her pocket before unlocking the door and letting herself into the Airbnb she had booked specifically for this job. While the place was a shit hole, the owners never bothered to check in on her... And it had a decently furnished basement, perfect for her to escape the ball of hate people liked to call a Sun.
Locking the door behind herself, she trudged down to the basement, only pausing to grab a roll of duct tape from the storage closet as she passed. Plopping down onto the couch, she began to carefully align the severed appendage. While it would still reattach itself and heal up as good as new regardless, getting it as close to right as possible meant less time and energy spent on it. Once it was in place as best she could manage, she quickly wound the tape around the impressively clean cut to hold it securely.
“And where the hell did he get a magic sword like that!” She huffed in annoyance. “Maybe I should call my Sire and ask him about it. He claims to have seen some incredible weapons back when he was being hunted by the Inquisition, so maybe he would know?”
With a sigh, she shrugged off the thought and opened her laptop. With just a few clicks of the mouse, she opened up the file she had made that contained all the information she could find for the job... Including several pictures and videos of her target, Oliver. With a quick tap, she opened on video in particular and watched as the band began to play. Oliver sat in the front row, dressed in a simple button down shirt and slacks, and played the violin with and impressive amount of skill and passion.
Stolen story; please report.
It didn't hurt that the violin was one of her favorite instruments, and the piece they were playing was particularly good.
After a minute of listening, she leaned back and shook her head with an annoyed huff. “No, calling my Sire would just arouse his attention and set him to hunting Oli.”
Throwing her hands up in frustration, she scowled at the damaged arm as it shifted despite the tape wrapped firmly around it. Quickly realigning it, she doubled up on the tape again as she grumbled to herself. “Don't know why I care, anyway. Fucking failed job. Fucking stubborn sheep should have just given up after he shot me fifty times. But no! Of course he didn't...”
“...but damn if he isn't sexy when he's being vicious and threatening.”
“Not like it matters, since he said he would kill me if he ever saw me again.”
Eve wallowed in frustration for only a moment before sitting up straight, a bright and cunning smile stretched across her face. “Get on his good side and get back at those fuckers for underselling this job? Well, I doubt it would change much with someone as jaded as Oli, but...”
Pulling out her phone, Eve fired off a quick text to the employer.
(Eve) Your package is ready. Estimated delivery time is 10pm today.
(???) Why the hell can't you bring it now!?
(Eve) Because it's almost dawn and I work the night shift? Also because the whole thing annoyed the fuck out of me and, if I show up now, I'm likely to rip someone's head off. So, deal with it. Or I can just keep the package for myself?
(???) Fine, whatever. I'll text you the location.
(Eve) How about I text you the location? It's not that I don't trust you... But I don't trust anyone.
She smiled as she watched her phone, waiting for the response. She knew they would cave. These people may have money and power, but they were out of their depths on this one... And, with all that money and power came the ego to match. While she wasn't sure if they would try to double-cross her, she knew they hadn't even considered the possibility that she would do it.
After all, she was just a dumb merc. All she cared about was the money, right?
And there's no way she could get one up on such smart and powerful men... She nearly cackled at the thought. Fucking idiots, the lot of them.
When the text came in, agreeing to her terms, she dropped her phone onto the small table beside the laptop. Picking out another video of Oliver performing, she smiled as the music started up.
“I'm not done with you yet, Oli. Not by a long-shot.”