DAYWALKER | n.romanoff

THREE

CHAPTER THREE
' MY REASONS ARE MY OWN '

Romanoff wasted no time to set off once the door closed behind the Blade. Part of her was sure the redhead hoped she'd fall out in the process. The shadows shifted as she moved deeper into the Quinjet, ignoring the stares of the Rogers and Stark.

A screen buzzed into life behind her.

"Blade. I think we need to go over some ground rules."

Slowly, she turned to face it, her grey eyes flickering over Fury's pixelated face, but she remained quiet.

"I even get a whiff of your games, Romanoff'll put a bullet through your head, understand? Just because I'm accepting your help doesn't mean I trust you."

"Why is Romanoff the only one permitted to kill me?"

"I think you'll be getting very friendly during your stay with us. Romanoff won't let you out of her sight."

Briefly, the Blade's eyes flickered to the pilot's seat before they returned. "This is neutral ground, yes?"

Fury was silent for a moment. "Yes."

A short hum left her before she turned away, and the screen clicked off. "I don't like your plane."

"Well, the quicker we work, the quicker you can get back to... your business," Rogers replied, his tone tight.

A shadow shot outwards and wrapped around his neck. It tightened, and his face slowly became red as his mouth hung open, gasping for breath.

The Blade's gaze dropped to Stark's offered hand, and the shadow disappeared. The only confirmation that it was a hallucination was the complete nonchalance of the super soldier. "Tony Stark. Gotta say this whole shebang is just-" He stopped and gestured broadly to her.

"Did your razor run out of battery this morning?"

The billionaire stared at her for a moment before his hand dropped. "Watcha talking about? Chicks dig this."

"I think they like your money better."

Shadows began to swarm around his feet and a pressure gathered in the back of her head.

"Everyone likes my money. We're a prize deal."

Her grey eyes flickered over him slowly. "You bore me."

"I don't like it," Rogers suddenly declared to stop Stark from pushing the Blade any closer to a killing spree.

"What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?"

"I don't remember it being ever that easy. This guy packs a wallop."

"Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow. What's your thing? Pilates?"

Rogers shot a look at the other man. "What?"

"It's like callisthenics," the Blade replied, leaning against the wall as she polished a dagger, but it was unclear if she was being genuine.

"You might have missed a couple things doing time as Capsicle."

Rogers narrowed his eyes at the Blade. "Put that thing away."

"Why? Does it make you nervous?"

"Cautious," he corrected. "I've read your file. This isn't what you do."

"What I do is not something you could understand, Captain," she bit back, gaze breaking away from her weapon.

"I know a terrorist when I see one."