Suicide Mission (Guarded Secrets #1)

9: "You do as you're told and do it well."

"Demon, it's a pleasure to see you, but you know I don't like to be disturbed while I'm training," she said as she swiped her purple tinted bangs out of her face. Her hair was pulled into a tight pony tail, but a few strands had managed to fall while she had been working out. Her hands and feet were wrapped in white tape to protect them while she worked with the bag; it made her look like a professional fighter.

I lifted my eyebrow slightly when I caught the sight of something black on her back, but she turned around to face us before I could see what it was. "What are you looking at?" she questioned when she caught me staring. When I didn't answer she lifted her eyebrows, "Well?"

"Sorry, purple is just an odd hair color to have," I said as I tilted my head slightly in curiosity. I was more curious about what she had on her back, but she seemed angered by our interruption and I didn't want to make it worse by seeming rude. She seemed to have a short temper and little patience for my questions as she brushed me off.

"Take a photo, it will last longer," she said with a growl and an accent that I had never heard before. It trickled through her words so easily, but my ears were having a hard time understanding it.

"Rue, please take it easy on her," Damon said. "She's new, we don't need you scaring off another recruit. She is just curious."

"My name isn't Rue for the last time, Demon. When I joined, you asked me what I wanted to be called when I became an agent, but now you don't call me it!" she said suddenly, as she got inches from Damon's face.

"No one wants to call you Rum," Damon explained, unmoved by her sudden proximity.

"It's the translation of what the Tibetan monks called me during training. I'm sorry you're English language only considers it to be an alcoholic beverage," she said, before she turned and glanced towards me again. Her eyes trailed my body quickly before shooting back to Damon as if he had all the answers to her questions. "Who the hell is this anyway? I don't allow rookies in here, and you know that."

"I'm Sara, it's nice to meet—" I started to say, in an attempt to be polite, but she wasn't allowing that to happen.

"I don't care who you are. You're a rookie, you don't mean a lot to me. Now get out, I meant it when I said no rookies allowed." She interrupted me with a hateful glance.

I shrank back, wanting to hide behind Damon since he seemed unfazed by her sharp remarks, but determined to leave with at least a little dignity. I stepped back, and stood my ground as she glared daggers into me. I was about to speak again when Damon beat me to it.

"Well, because of her intensive training, along with her win against Raider in hand-to-hand combat, the director offering to train her, and by beating the safe wall record, I would say she is better than a rookie," Damon said smartly. "Maybe even equal to you."

The sentence seemed to catch Rum's attention. Her eyebrows lifted in shock then her face relaxed again before carrying on the conversation. "And what's with the intensive training? I've never seen her around the home before so she must be relatively new here. Even with such exploits."

"Well, maybe if you left this room every once in a while and socialized at meals you would know more people," Damon suggested in a friendly tone, but the banter had no friendly meaning to it in Rum's eyes. She flipped him off as she walked away to replace her punching bag. She lifted the bag off its hook, the conversation dead to her until Damon spoke again. "She's taking over the Cardoza Mission," Damon said, causing Rum to suddenly stop in her tracks and drop the broken bag onto the hardwood floor.

"You're an idiot, Demon. You can't let her go, she will die!" Rum said as she turned to face us full on again. The anger and annoyance gone from her eyes, now there was fear and worry etched into her facial features. "You can't be serious about sending her out after what happened last time!"