Every sense is hyper-focused as I walk through the dark hallways. Normally, instinct allows me to ignore most of what my sensitive ears tell me, the noise an easily ignored jumble unless it catches my attention. Now, everything is carefully parsed, as I don’t know what could be relevant.

The soft and not so soft snores of those peacefully sleeping, unaware of the potential danger. The moans and creaking wood that speaks of intimate encounters. Whispered conversations of people loathe to leave one another’s company for simple rest and those who prefer to conduct their business under the cover of darkness. And last, my would-be assassins.

They are incredibly quiet, their footsteps softer than breaths and not a word shared between them. It’s too bad that isn’t enough. Focused as I am, I can hear the rise and fall of their chests and the pounding of their hearts is like a chorus of drums banging next to my ears. Sneaking up on me is an impossible task for people only taking the bare amount of precaution. Something these people should know, if they researched me.

I’m almost offended. Did they bother to find out anything about the woman they want to kill? I’m not even trying to hide my abilities anymore. It would have been simple to ask around and learn about my prodigious body, but they continue to underestimate, every time.

Is it truly my fault, as Kierra says? Did I invite all these annoyances onto myself by trying to live a quiet life? Or is my blessing also my curse, and I will never know peace again?

I’m waiting for them when they step into the hall. With my nightvision ‘film’, I have no trouble making out the details of their group. Seven, as Geneva said, dressed head to toe in black. Everything but their eyes are hidden by thin dark cloth wrapped around the lower halves of their faces and some kind of wrap over their heads. They have the form of saboteurs, lean and compact muscle ideal for creeping. All of them are armed but their weapons are subtle, the largest of them being a dagger shorter than my forearm sheathed across the small of a man’s back.

They notice me immediately, which isn’t a surprise. Apparently, the ‘film’ that allows me to see in the dark makes my eyes incredibly noticeable. I wonder what they are thinking as they stare at a pair of unnatural eyes glowing in the darkness, the body they belong to still obscured. Unfortunately, it’s not to abandon their mission, as the killer in the lead draws a knife.

“My name is Lou—"

That’s all I get out before the knife is thrown at me. It’s aimed for my throat and flies true, it’s flight impressively straight. Clearly, this man has some skill, but it isn’t nearly enough.

With contemptuous ease, I snap the blade out of the air. I can tell he’s startled by the display by the way his eyes widen. Normally, I enjoy surprising people, but his shock only frustrates me. Why are these dumb bastards targeting me without knowing what I can do? Why are they wasting my time?

“Do that again and I kill you,” I pronounce in a flat voice. I wait a moment to see if another knife is going to be thrown but nothing happens. Oh, they’re still moving, the members in the back shifting the slightest amount but as they’re not attacking, I take it as my opportunity to negotiate.

“Let me make this clear,” I say, my voice soft to keep from disturbing those in the rooms next to us but carrying in the silence. “Unless every single one of you is a master caster that can annihilate a creature down to its last strand of hair, you are not qualified to kill me. I don’t even know what can kill me but I’m guessing that’s the bare minimum. If you try, you are all going to die and innocent people who have nothing to do with this are going to get involved. If you have any pride as hunters and so-called defenders of the kingdom, then you will turn around and let your leaders talk this mess out with me. And if you don’t give a damn about the kingdom, think about yourselves and your families. Is this really how you want your life to end? For your last act to be trying to kill an innocent woman?”

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Again, the group doesn’t attack immediately but dread knots in my stomach. They aren’t talking. They don’t even look at each other, their gazes never leaving me. These idiots aren’t even considering my offer, are they? Are they letting me talk to take me by surprise? Or are they communicating with their allies and waiting for reinforcements?

What do I do? Do I rush them? No, I could be wrong. What if they are considering retreating? This was supposed to be a stealthy endeavor but that’s gone out of the window. Perhaps they’re telling the others to retreat. I can’t be the one to start the violence.

But is that naivete when all my instincts, both the reflexes honed by the copious amounts of violence in the short time since my transformation and the subtle cues of their body language, are telling me that they’re getting ready to attack? At what point have I done enough? How much leeway do the strong owe the weak and ignorant before it’s right to strike them down?

Does it even matter? These people were going to slit my throat in my sleep. Alana and Talia share my bed. Would they have been spared? Of course not. They would have made as much impossible, as they would have done everything they could to protect me, never mind that I don’t need protecting. Even if they weren’t threats and promised to never breathe a word of what happened, they would still be witnesses. Any assassin worth the gold to pay them would ensure they didn’t have the opportunity to talk.

Then there are the other people with me. Jac, Yulia, and Allen. Would they have also been killed? If not by these assassins, then by the hunters emboldened by my death?

My ruminations are interrupted as the assassins act. My fears are confirmed when they make no move to retreat. Instead, three rush forward, their bodies covering the width of the hall. I’ll have to go through them to reach the four in the back whose eyes glow with their intentions to throw around magic.

Unfortunately for them, that isn’t a daunting task at all.

I slam into the thin wall of flesh meant to keep me at bay. The assassin in the middle who takes the brunt of my charge is crushed, his chest caved in as he crumples to the ground. If that blow didn’t kill him, my foot crushing his skull as I run past definitely finishes the job.

I’m too fast for them to finish their spells, whatever they were meant to be, but they’re professionals. One of them throws something to the ground and smoke bursts around us in an acrid cloud that stings my eyes. An annoyance but not nearly enough to stop me. My ears are more than enough to track them. My hand blindly grabs one by the shoulder. A simple squeeze is enough to shatter the bone under my palm but the only sound the man makes is a grunt of pain. His fearfully pounding heart is silenced as I punch his head, easily shattering his skull and smushing his brain like spoiled fruit.

Someone grabs me from behind, one of the assassins I blew past, and a knife is jabbed against my throat. Against, because the tip can’t break the skin. Before the poor fool can understand his mistake, I grab him by the face, then by the neck with my opposite hand. A simple twist of the wrist ends his life and I throw the corpse aside. The third assassin meant to stop me is staying still. I don’t know if he’s injured or if he’s smart enough to stay out of the way. It doesn’t matter.

The hunters need to understand that there is no fighting me. I don’t want to be a villain that callously kills anyone that annoys me but, as the bandits we encountered on our way back to the city proved, mercy means nothing without the might to back it up. These men didn’t want to be an example of my mercy, so they will be an example of my might. And the consequences of underestimating me.

The assassin trying to go unnoticed is dispatched by a swift kick to the head. Then I give chase to the other three.