The scenery was misty and she found herself between a heavy forest and a large city. Viana thought, “I must be dreaming again…” Some of the buildings looked old and run down. The mist began to take the shape of a giant lioness. She was impressive to look at, and her head alone was larger than Viana. She bows her head to look Viana into the eyes up close, makes a nod of acknowledgement, and then disappears. Confused at what her guide was trying to tell her, Viana awoke.
It was three days after the death of Herrera. She’d managed to create a map of everywhere she picked up the killer’s scent previously, but she hadn’t seen him yet. Well, today is the funeral. She decided to skip the search for today and just go to the funeral. Black seemed appropriate for the day’s task, so she put on a short sleeve black shirt and black jeans. “It needs something…” she thought. She sprayed some strawberry perfume on her left wrist, rubbed her wrists together, and then put a little on her neck. From there, she examined her wall of necklaces. She’d installed a series of hooks onto the wall so she could hang all her jewelry up on the wall without them getting tangled in boxes anywhere. “What would go well with black? Black? No… too much black…” As her eyes wandered among her treasury of shiny jewelry she’d collected, she saw a dream catcher necklace. It was inherited from her mother and the dream catcher focal point sat among alternating obsidian and garnet beads, with a tiny conch shell in the middle of the dream catcher. Dangling down below the dream catcher was a wooden bead she believed to be ash due to how well it resonated with her, and a single white feather below that. Perfect. She put it on and the pendant sat right above her heart. Smiling she put on her black sneakers and made her way to the kitchen. She made quick work of a bowl of frosted mini wheats before heading out. On her way out the door she grabs her cell phone that’s lying on the table and starts dialing. The funeral is close enough she figures she’ll walk and that she’d call her cousin on the way.
“Hello?”
“Riona?”
“This is me. Tsyione?”
“You can call me Viana remember? I swear I can’t even pronounce my own name sometimes so it’s easier… Vianca isn’t a whole lot better and doesn’t flow… So it’s Viana…”
“Got it. Everything ok? The funeral is gonna start soon.”
“I’m literally on my way as we speak. Save a seat for me. See you soon.”
“Ok. See you soon. Bye.”
Viana pushes the hang-up button and realizes a familiar smell as she’s walking. Her eyes narrow. Herrera’s killer is nearby… “Would the killer attend his funeral…? We’re awfully close…” She follows the scent as it seems fresh and finds that it goes the same way as she needs to go to attend the funeral. “… I don’t want his killer there… I’ll get to him before he gets there. With any luck I’ll scare him off… I really hope I beat him there.” She starts running toward the funeral and finds the scent is strongest a short ways away from it. She sees a suspicious man in a leather jacket setting up a mounted gun that looked similar to a rifle and decides to take a closer look. The rifle reads, “Till Death Do Us Part.” Thinking on it, she remembered Riona having done some digging. That was similar to what the shuriken had on it that her cousin’s dating partner managed to find stuck in his shoulder one day. Rian Saeran didn’t know Riona knew but she’d known someone tried to kill him. “Coincidence or same man? Well, same one or not, he smells like the guy I’m after so I think I’m gonna go say hello… I’ll drop Rian’s name to see how he reacts. If he’s the same fucker I can get him for both his attempt on Rian AND going after Herrera.”
She gets in close, acting casual. Then she catches a glimpse briefly of the tattoos on his wrists. “Yup! That’s him.” Right after confirming that, she unceremoniously gives him a disorienting hit to the head to get his attention and then a hard kick to his stomach as he looks up. She then kicked him again in the left side. “I think I’ve got him now…” She thought as she decided to switch from kicks to punches, only to find him recovering. He catches her right hook punch and uses his other hand to quickly draw his dagger, cut her wrist, and re-sheathe the dagger faster than you could say “taco.” “What the hell? He’s as fast as me?” She threw a left punch to get him to let go, not caring if it actually hit him so long as it got him to let go of her other hand. It worked. He blocked and swiftly maneuvered away from the punch, letting her go in the process. Before pulling completely away he kicks her in the midsection of the right side of her torso, but got the angle right to get below the ribs, hitting her liver, and causing her to fall to the ground, coughing. The stranger, now obviously having regained his bearings from her sneak attack, looked at her critically. “Who the hell are you?”
