| my killer queen | {clarisse la rue}

chapter one

Her footsteps echoed through the long hall, but not loud enough for the party below to hear her as she slipped onto the top balcony of the ballroom. The gala continued below, chatter filling the large granite room, making for the perfect cover as she positioned herself.

"Bailey? Are you in position?" The bud in Bailey's ear crackled to life, barely audible to her through the churning of voices on the floor a few levels below.

She sighed, putting her back to the wall in a shadow covered corner, "Yes, Timothée. Just give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go."

Bailey's skin tight suit slipped off easily, making room for the dark red ball gown to take its place. The matching mask made its way to her face, the same shade of red in a shape that vaguely resembled a fox, while deep red lipstick and ruby earrings were applied quickly.

"Claire should already be down there. Green dress with a gold mask." As Timothée spoke, Bailey's eyes found the girl in the crowd. The brunette girl looked up, pinpointing her corner, and gave her a quick nod. She must have already found the target, then.

Bailey's last step was to slip her knives into the folds of her dress, and then drop down quietly into the room. It was easier than she anticipated, but then again, most of the people in the room had already been drinking for hours. Not many people were going to notice a trained assassin dropping into a room, especially drunk people.

Claire found her quickly, ducking into the corner of the room she had dropped into while avoiding the crowd of rich people in masks and overly fluffy gowns.

"He's in the dark blue suit. Black lion mask with a pretty black haired lady on his arm," Claire barely made a sound as she debriefed Bailey, "Definitely armed, and I think the men against the wall over there are some kind of bodyguard regiment."

"Thanks Claire," Bailey dragged her eyes to the opposite corner of the room, assessing the men there, before finding the real target of the night. The lady next to him looked innocent enough, but Mr. Augustin didn't bother to hide his dark swagger. Everyone in the room knew he was dangerous, and no one dared say anything — utter a single word.

If you asked Bailey, he was full of shit. The man could barely hold a gun, let alone kill anyone. The real danger came from his money and resources, which was becoming a real nuisance to her family. She was here to fix that.

"There's people tailing us. And him." Claire said matter of factly. Bailey nodded— she had noticed it earlier while sneaking through the upper levels of the building. A girl with long blonde box braids was using the balcony vantage as Bailey had been, while a blonde boy and brunette girl made their way through the crowd. They were obviously trained well, as she and her team were, but Bailey was not called the keen eye for nothing. She missed no details. If you were in the European underground, you knew her family, and knew what she was capable of.

"They've probably noticed that we have... common ground." Mr. Augustin was obviously the common ground, and Bailey wondered if...

"You want to talk to them," Claire rolled her eyes, but was already making her way into the flurry of people to flag down the two tails. Bailey loved when she didn't have to communicate with her team for them to get it. Almost eighteen years of training had built that connection.

"You shouldn't talk to strange people who are tailing you, Babs." Bailey could hear the joking annoyance in Timothée's tone, but the undertone of seriousness still made its way through. He was mother henning again, as always.

No one noticed the new edition when the girl with braids dropped down beside her, silent as a mouse. She was taller than Bailey by a few inches, but they had the same lithe body build that made it easy to sneak around.