Raging Storm {book 2 in SOSfanfic series} [ON HOLD]

How Fighters Crack

Reyna was sitting on the edge of her carriage seat, her elbows on her knees and her hands rubbing the tension away at the nape of her neck. Besides her, Mr. Ambrose yanked his bow tie from his collar in anger. There was pure fury radiating off him, barely controlled. Karim was driving them back to The Luxor Hotel. The night was a complete disaster.

Reyna leapt from the roof to the ground below just as the guards around the table turned to move towards Karim, who had taken a defensive stance across Mr. Ambrose. She took down two guards as she hit the floor, severing their spine at the nape of their neck, her knives flashing. Before standing up properly, she threw her blade towards the next man on her left. He died. Karim broke the nose of the one coming up behind him. Only two out of six left. And this all happened within a second. She threw her other knife. He died. There was one behind her, Karim was too far away. She twisted, bringing her knee up and tilted to her left. The man took another step towards her and she kicked her leg out, breaking his jaw, sending him to the floor cold. She folded her leg again and straightened. She put her leg down firmly. The man seated in the shadows clapped once, breaking the silence. And the shrubbery around him exploded to reveal men in black, holding glinting silver blades. Karim and Mr. Ambrose crossed her, rushing into the corridor. She did not turn to look at them.

The men were halfway around the table, coming right at her. She whisked out the two knives secured at her back and threw them one by one. The men second in line stumbled over their falling comrades and pushed on, slower. She slid out two knives secured at her outer thighs and threw them, again one at a time, until the men that were spread out the most fell. There were four more. Two rows, two in front. Another two behind them. She went for the second pair of knives strapped around her thighs. The two coming right at her had their stomach and half their chest slit deep, Reyna's arms forming an 'X' marked in air with a spray of blood, as she ended up kneeling halfway through the move. Still on her knees, she threw a knife, another hit the floor. The last was very close to her, her sword swinging towards her head in slow motion. Using one of his arms, she propelled herself forward and brought one knife along her, making a deep cut across his side. She rose and spun, swiping her knife. She came to an abrupt halt, facing the man. She looked up at the chair, only to see it was empty. She raised her eyes as the last warrior in black crumpled to the ground. It was too dark to see whether or not he was still there or not. She quickly gathered all her knives and walked back into the corridor, replacing them to their positions around her. She could feel her back tingle as someone's gaze eyed her retreating form. It was not an advancing gaze, she felt. She smirked and turned out of view.

The lobby was no better. Karim was handling it, but barely. She finished the job fast and the three of them left. They were not running, they were walking through the maze like narrow streets faster than anyone could chase them. She had memorized all the escape routes. They were soon as lost as they could be for the men who were chasing them. Not a word was spoken as they made their way through the slumbering belly of the beast before they marched onto the main market street, still lit orange and yellow like a river of fire cutting through the sleeping dark city. Soon, they were lost within the crowd.

The silence in the cab was like a wet washcloth, stifling Reyna, only getting heavier by the minute. She finally took the risk.

"What happened?"

Mr. Ambrose didn't respond for a long time. Reyna bit her lip. She turned to look at him staring out the widow, trying to freeze and burn the city with his icy and furious gaze.

She sighed and turned back to stare at the front of the carriage in front of her. Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse for some reason, as if he was battling an emotion inside.

"He wasn't interested in the deal."

"So, it was a trap?"

Her spine tingled. He was looking at her.

"If he wasn't interested in making a deal and he didn't even get to hear what you could offer, then he only invited you because it was a trap. He wouldn't have done it by himself. He had no reason to. Lord Dalgaleish knows you are here. And that you were going to meet with him. He knows you."

She was merely stating facts until she added those three words in the end. If they were true, then she was.... Scared, she realized. It had been a while since she was scared. If things went south, as they had, then she had handled it all perfectly, according to the plan, no matter the surprises. Then, why was she feeling fear at thinking that she could not do her job? She had proved that she wasn't incapable to protect her employer, then why was heart beating so fast?

"If you know your enemy and you know yourself, you need not fear the result of a thousand battles." She whispered to herself, trying to find why her heart was speeding up.

"The Art of War." Mr. Ambrose matched the lines to the book.

Her lips quirked up in a smile. She turned and grinned at him.

"I break the cliché by following all of them. It's interesting." She explained.

He raised a single eyebrow at her, confused. She just shrugged and let it drop. She shouldn't talk about what she wants in front her employer if they were not useful to her job. She scolded herself for this the umpteenth time.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was low and hoarse again, for some reason.

Then again, when he spoke like this, she wasn't exactly going to blame herself for losing focus. It should be against the law to be this attractive. Wait, what?!

"I should be the one asking that, don't you think?" She replied calmly, not betraying her calm façade.

Mr. Ambrose looked down at his split knuckles and clenched his jaw. Reyna's mental voice let out a moan.

This is not fair. Be professional. You can do it.

"I am completely alright. You were the one who fought. Why would you ask me?"

Mr. Ambrose's voice was tight.

Reyna took out a wad of white linen from her pocket. She cut a strip down and scooted closer to him. She took his hand and slowly opened his fist to wrap the bandage around the wound.

She sighed before replying, "We've already had this conversation before, Sir. You don't have to ask me that unless I'm in visible distress. And that's not going to happen. So don't ask me that. And don't brood because I didn't let you fight. I'm doing my job, Sir, and I'm getting paid for it, so I'm doing it happily. You seem to forget that I am very good at it. So for the last time Sir, you don't have to worry about me."

Mr. Ambrose was staring down at her hand quickly moving around his, unmarked and unscathed. He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it.

"The lady insists."

He looked up after her beaming face. 'Lady' indeed. Under normal circumstances, Mr. Ambrose would've raised an eyebrow, or just glared at everything. But now, he was silent, as if contemplating something. The carriage moved past a bonfire and for a second, his face was illuminated.

She glimpsed incredible sorrow in his eyes, and in surprise she gasped. Just like that, any smidge of emotion vanished from his eyes. He turned away from Reyna, his yes cold and gaze freezing over, and didn't speak another word for rest of the ride back.