Deadly Desires

Bloodied hands

My gaze sweeps over her, taking in her crumpled form, her red hair fans her face like a halo of blood. Even in death Ivy St. Claire looks beautiful.

I had meant what I said, she looked beautiful in that dress. I had meant everything I told her, every word was true. That was exactly why she had to die. I hadn't been that honest with a woman in years, and this one wanted to kill me.

She hadn't fooled me with her kisses that tasted of wine and cherries, lips that threatened to push me over the edge. She was poisonous and her poison was beginning to sicken me.

I dropped my eyes to her chest as I watched her take shallow, shaky breaths. Each time it rose and fell she grew weaker, air wasn't going to save her. She had all the oxygen in the world at her disposal. The stab wound that had turned her silver gown a delicious shade of red was going to be the death of her.

Well, that wasn't true. I was going to be the death of her. I had to be, it was me or her. We would always be taking each other out and I enjoyed this game for a long time. But it had gone on for far too long, I was distracted. I wasn't performing my best work with my missions, I was even forgetting to leave my signature on the bodies. 

And I was thinking of Ivy even when she wasn't around. When I had no good reason to be wondering about her.

"You're so cold, Nikolai. Do you have no heart at all?"

I shook my head, the memory dissolving as quickly as it had come. Oh, Matushka you were right.

 I didn't have a heart. I had behaved as if I didn't have one since I was eleven years old and now over ten years later it was far too easy to act as if there was a black void where the organ was meant to be. It made me efficient, cold, intelligent the perfect weapon for Shadowborn to use and deploy. I enjoyed my job, I enjoyed taking lives and the control it brought me.

There was no shame in that I thought. 

Glancing down I felt the blood running through my body drop significant temperatures when my eyes latched onto Ivy's chest as I registered the lack of movement.

She wasn't breathing.

Before I could allow myself to question my actions I dropped to a crouch and checked her pulse, it was so faint I could have pretended it wasn't there. 

I watched Ivy for a few seconds, at war with myself as I fought with myself about what to do. It was pointless really, I should have known the moment I went to check she was dead I was going to bring her back.

I felt no control watched her leave this earth. I was not better off having Ivy St. Claire dead, many others would be. Though, I was never known for my selflessness.

I positioned myself on top of her as I ripped her gown apart and pressed down on her stomach, preventing any blood from continuing to flow. I used my dagger to twist a knot around her stomach, making it harder for the blood to flow and spill out of her. My hands, now covered in her blood, moved to her chest as I began to perform chest compressions to bring her back from the ledge she was about to fall off.

After a few minutes, I could feel the beat of her heart against my hand, it was weak and irregular but it was there. Stronger than it had been a moment prior. I smirked to myself as I lifted her dress and eased the gun from her thigh, making sure to keep my eyes on her face.

I removed the silencer and fired three shots into the ceiling and then quickly rose from her body as I swung myself behind a wall, listening as people ran up the stairs.

Ten minutes later, Ivy was being brought outside by her fellow agents as an ambulance arrived. People were yelling and screaming and many had run outside, confirming the evening was ruined. 

I walked into the bathroom and washed the blood from my hands as I whistled to myself.