Sigils of Blood and Shadow

AURYN

There’s a wrong way to touch a woman.

The drunk bastard finds out the hard way.

One second, his hand is on Mia’s ass. The next, I’ve got his arm twisted behind his back, and a sharp kick to his leg sends him crashing to the ground. He’s howling, clutching his arm like it will start working again if he holds it tight enough.

He stares up at me, now sober and stunned, like I haven't just done him a favour by teaching him some damn manners.

Although I have a smug smile on my face, I promise I didn't mean to twist his hand that hard.

Call it… training.

Where I’m from, mercy is a myth. You strike first, then apologize never, and god help you if you ever forgot that because the reminder hurts. Still… I loved every brutal moment.

Mia clutches my arm, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape. It's then I notice the stares trained on my back. I turn back to see my new coworkers frozen on the sidewalk, gawking like I just grew fangs.

Sweat trickles down my back. I open my mouth to speak, but Mark, our team leader, beats me to it. “That was soooooo fucking amazing, Auryn! How'd you do it?” He grabs David’s arm, trying to imitate me.

He fails spectacularly and everyone laughs, except David, who clearly isn't amused by Mark's attempt to break his arm. Who would?

I exhale in relief. They don't think I'm weird.

“You’re so strong, Auryn,” Mia breathes, voice shaking. “I wish I was that strong.” Her eyes fill with a reverence that makes me chuckle awkwardly.

Jessica claps once, drawing our attention. Her expression is stern as she says, “Are we going to spend the rest of our night on the road or,” she pauses, then flashes an excited grin, “take this inside the company's restaurant for Auryn's welcome dinner?”

My welcome dinner.

My face brightens up as we all follow Jessica's lead, the chatter uninterrupted despite the nasty glares we get from passers-by. We're loud, but we don't care.

Okay, I do. Not really a fan of unwanted attention.

Still… This is nice. I didn't think my life could be this smooth, but here I am in Valle Vitale. Thriving.

Three weeks in, and I’ve got a solid job, coworkers who actually like me, and a welcome dinner at a fancy restaurant. No looking over my shoulder. No constant tension in my gut. Just… living.

Safe never used to feel like home, but I’m learning to like it, but there's still that pang of guilt I feel whenever I recall I'm not supposed to enjoy it.

I'm not here on vacation. I shouldn't be having fun, but maybe… just maybe, for one night, I can put aside thoughts of my duties, expectations, and burdens.

The bell over the door chimes as we file into the restaurant, filling up one of the tables, though it requires I and Mia stealing seats from an empty table. Thankfully, the waiters don't complain. “If it ain't our favourite team!” The waiter says, his words directed at Jessica who crosses her arms beneath her full chest, and smirks like she owns the place.

“Alright then,” She exhales, slowly opening her eyes.

“Ohhhh!” Everyone at the table starts cheering, except I, Mia and Liam, who I now notice has been staring at me all this while. I meet his gaze and he immediately looks away, ears turning a bright red.

Not surprising. I'm already used to it.

I refocus my attention on Jessica who's holding a legendary black card between her fingers. My jaw drops, but I clamp it shut. No one can know dinner's been eggs and instant oats all week. “Here.” The waiter takes it from her hand, handling it carefully like the treasure it is. “We'll take everything on the menu,” Jessica says.

The cheering is louder this time, with I and Mia joining in. Liam simply smiles.

“How long has she been working here?” I whisper to Mia.

She lets out a defeated sigh. “‘If I work long enough and do my very best, I'll have a black card’. That's also what I thought when I first met her.” Another sigh. “Turns out she comes from a billionaire dynasty, and is married into an even bigger one. I'll never achieve her level of wealth in this lifetime.”

"Oh.” I nod.

Well, I don't have to achieve her level of wealth. I just need enough to make my time here comfortable. The food is served, and it takes everything in me not to ask for takeaways.

Conversation flows easily, nothing like the professional gathering I thought it'd be. I laugh at one of David's jokes, almost choking on the lamb I'm chewing.

Mark is halfway through a story about a disastrous team trip when the same waiter sets down another tray. The joy and excitement he radiated before is replaced with a dull expression, “You all be careful going home. Another body’s turned up.” He sets the tray in his hand down and leaves.

Another body?