The Branded Hunters Trilogy: The Masked Musician (On Hold)

Chapter 2: Three Years Later

He stopped by my apartment again. He took a seat and I took mine. Fidget jumped on him, sniffing him as he always did then went back on my shoulder.

I smiled. "Didn't expect you so soon, Tony."

He cracked a smile. "You still remind me of your father."

Tony Gonzales, he was a very close friend of my Father's. He was practically like an uncle to me, but now he's just a business partner.

"So what do you got for me?"

"Some good one's, actually."

He pulled out a set of cards. Then he laid them in front of me and spread them out. I whistled another tune as I stared at each card, one by one. A few cards started to vibrate and move toward me. I picked them up and looked through the cards, reading the descriptions one by one. This is how I pick them, the cards are like baseball cards. They had the person's name and everything about the person, relationships, ages, anything. It's a modern technology invention that some scientists invented. This makes it more simpler to know more about the person, like looking up someone's bibliography in the Internet. 

"You picked 10 this time?" He asked. "You're getting picky."

"I am not." I protested. "You're just bad at picking them."

"Fine, be like that Melody." He said. "I'll meet you next week, correct?"

I snorted. "Nah, I'll finish by Friday."

He whistled. "You're that confident?"

"You have that much faith in me?"

"Touche."

"Thank you."

He chuckled to himself. "You dad would have killed me if he'd know what you're doing."

I sighed. "I'm 19, I can do this blindfolded."

He stood up. "Just be careful out there, Melody. You too Fidget."

Fidget chattered at him and wrapped his tail around me like a scarf.

Then he left my apartment. I went to my my room. I changed into my uniform. It consist of a black sports bra and a fishnet sleeveless hoodie, with fingerless gauntlets that came up to my elbows. I wore a black shorts with a skirt apron strapped around it that went to my thighs. I sheathed a small dagger than my mom passed to me. I never want to use it, I have a hatred to knives and swords ever since their death. I wore black boots with buckles, boots with shoelaces would be a burden. I opened a small chest and pulled it out. My mask.

My mask is my life. It's the thing that masks my identity, it hides my tattoo or else I would be known. It was a beautiful hand-made mask I bought in a shop when I was passing a city. It's custom made, I asked the shopkeeper to make for me. It's made of music sheets, it painted black at parts with gold embroidered around it.

I put it on and whistled for Fidget. His tail swished side from side, the scar from that night was still there. He never liked it so it's now covered with the tattoo I have by my eye. The scar has been sealed away from my tattoo symbol. He hopped into my hoodie, him being so light, I wouldn't be bothered by him. I opened my window and jumped out. 

I watched from the chandelier as Mr. Raposa ate with his henchmen around the dining table. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, his hideout smells worst than a dump. I have no clue how they can stand the smell as they ate Chinese take-out.

I counted, about 6 of them including Mr. Raposa. I smiled to myself, this is going to be easy. Now let me think, musical, quick and painless, slow and agonizing? I pulled out my flute, and played a slow tune. They didn't do anything, probably thought it was some street musician playing. Their movements started to slow down, they chews slower, talked slower too. But they didn't notice it either, wow how clueless are they?