Refuge In The Shadows

13.

Carys stared at the stranger reflecting back at her from the mirror...and was slightly terrified by what she saw. The stranger's black hair was in a plaited bun at the nape of her neck with a few strands falling loose to frame her face. Her lithe body was draped in a navy blue gown that pooled in waves down to brush the tips of her shoes.

She leaned her head to the side in contemplation as she continued to examine the reflection. She almost looks...harmless, Carys mused. But rest assured, the familiar feel of metal against skin carefully concealed by the ribbon wrapped around her waist made sure she remembered her capabilities. Carys smiled to herself, after all, if she did not appear as though she could hurt a fly, what exactly kept her bun in place? Even with this drastic transformation, Carys remembered that parts of what made her her were not all lost to this foreign figure. Her makeup-free face, the faint holes of piercings that lined the cartilage on each ear, the scars dancing up and down arms under the sleeves, the boots hiding underneath the chiffon–such reminded her of the girl she knew and loved.

Carraway's party was to be held in approximately sixty minutes. Carys felt an odd combination of anticipatory delight and heavy wariness rising up from her bones topped off with a satisfying bout of confidence. They were not going to mess this up. Unanticipated deviations from the mission would be dealt with in a seamless manner; she was sure of it. Carys gave her reflection one last parting glance and delicately draped a shawl over her shoulders before closing her bedroom door behind her. Usually her strides were purposeful and unwavering; now, she took her time, restricting her feet to make only hesitant steps towards the dreaded end: meeting the boys in this ridiculous getup.

Upon deeper thought, Carys supposed she was more anxious than she really needed to be. Cadeyrn wouldn't so much as bat an eye and neither would Bryn and Rhys. James and Jonathan had known her long enough to understand very clearly that no matter what she wore, she was still the deadly hunter they respected. Then if it was not the boys she did not want to see in this dress, then who? She had to bring this thread of thought to a close when her steps proved to be not short enough. Straightening her back, lifting her chin, and focusing her eyes onward, Carys climbed the stone steps into the bookshop where the six of them would convene.

*****

The bookshop was much too small to hold the stifling tension emanating from each of the tall, dark male figures. Not even the absorbent pages of the hundreds of books on the shelves could soak up the heady testosterone-laden unease. Each figure commandeered a section of the room for his own, not meeting the eyes of the others. They waited. They waited for the sixth member who had yet to join them. Two were especially impatient much to the displeasure of the other three. What would they finally get to see that had always been hidden underneath long shirts and shapeless cloaks? They were fully aware that the events that would transpire would do nothing to change their opinion of the young woman, but curiosity had always been a feeling much too difficult to contain–this time was no exception.

Heads snapped up to focus on the entrance of Wright's office when the light tapping of boot against stone echoed in the bookshop. Boots? The Hunters questioned silently to themselves. She was not joking when she said she would wear those to the party. Finally, a flash of navy could been seen, a relieving sight from the black suit jackets and pants.

Carys emerged from the office and spared a brief glance at the boys. Each of them looked uncomfortable in their fitted party attire. The hands tugging down the shirtsleeves, the slight turn of necks against stiff collars; the unfamiliarity with such clothing was evident.

Wright quickly followed behind Carys wearing his hunter gear. "I will bring the reinforcements and we will patrol the neighbourhood throughout the party. Do not be so hasty in killing Carraway on sight. A sudden assassination will be too messy for us to clean up. But warning shots are warranted." Wright glanced at the Hunters. Satisfied that they looked the part, he gave them the signal to leave. Carys strode towards the exit where their carriage awaited. While Cadeyrn, Bryn, and Rhys followed her without missing a beat, James and Jonathan took in Carys's dress-clad figure. They were not given long to let their eyes wander before she cleared her throat in annoyance. "The faster we are on our way to Carraway's, the faster you get to admire women who actually want to be stared at," she said before yanking open the front door.