Writetober 2019

October 17-Ornament

Li Jing twisted her hair with practiced grace and reached for her hair pins with one hand. She gripped the blunted tip of one in her teeth and twisted the sharpened spine free of its casing. She checked the condition of first one then the other, returning them to their harmless facades afterward and slid the pins into her hair.

She stood and brushed her hands down her green and gold cheongsam, smoothing the fabric. She took one step away from her vanity before stopping. She glanced back at an ornament she'd been debating all day. The gold and pale pink enamel cherry blossom comb beckoned and mocked her. Her mother had given her the heirloom years ago, before Li had fled the monotony that was life in her flower shop.

She had a rule against bringing anything personal on a job, but she might not have another opportunity. Besides, a picture of her wearing the comb might soothe her mother's wounded pride ahead of her arrival. After another moment's hesitation, she picked up the comb and slid it into her hair above her coiffure. It is rather eye-catching, She decided, turning her head for a glimpse of it.

She swept her eyes over the apartment once more, checking for anything visible that shouldn't be, and picked up her clutch. Her phone was beeping. One text and one alarm. The text was from her unwitting in to tonight's party at the consulate. The alarm was a reminder to take her medications.

She blinked for a moment and let herself feel tired. Then she moved to the bathroom where a row of prescription bottles sat in order of frequency. She took one each of apresoline, furosemide, and lisinopril and texted her date back. He was utterly clueless, though sweet as far as airheaded men went. She was almost sorry she'd never see him again after tonight.

Her man arrived ten minutes later to pick her up. He'd brought flowers. She smiled at the simpleton and took the bouquet of red carnations, asters, and peonies to the kitchen to put in a vase. They did add quite a bit of color to the space, The thought he'd clearly put into the arrangement made her feel a little bad. She soothed her conscience by giving the man a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile as they exited the apartment. She even let him help her into her coat.

The consulate was alight with activity and festive spirit, Chinese New Year only a few hours away. She did her best to ignore the distant pang of homesickness (and sickness at the thought of going home) brought on by the sights and smells, focusing instead on the faces. Her target would be in attendance. The guards took her date's invitation and did a quick check with the metal detector wand one held. After a cursory look to ensure her hair pins weren't lethally sharp, they waved the pair inside.

Li Jing smiled pleasantly as introductions began. The security here was more incompetent than she'd thought. She might even get to enjoy a dance before the ambassador's body was found.

She was very efficient at what she did. She had to be. Rather than letting the teenage discovery of her heart defect deter her from continuing to learn Xing Yi Quan, she'd moved to a mixed style aimed at disabling her opponents as quickly as possible with as little physical stress to herself as possible. While her personalized style might not be accepted in a competition, it had served her well in her mixed bag of careers.

She politely giggled, made small talk, and hung on her date's arm until spotting the ambassador someone wanted dead. He was a large man, well acquainted with leisure and the local German cuisine. Quite ironically, the man had his own battle with blood pressure, though due more to diet than defect. And most blood pressure medications had one side effect in common. When he invariably excused himself to visit the restroom, Li made her own excuses.

She had both sharpened pins pulled from their sheaths and held at her sides when she entered the restroom to find her mark already dead. "Long time no see, Li."

Li Jing relaxed. "It's impolite to steal someone's mark," She said icily, stooping to stab the man through his too perfect heart. She had to at least make it look like her work.

"Friends help each other," A Caucasian man in a server's uniform said, stepping from a stall. "Pay's still yours."

"To what do I owe the visit?" She asked while rinsing her hair pin in the sink. She watched his familiar, fierce grin in the mirror.

"I found us a gig."

"Oh, it's an 'us' now?" Li asked, voice dripping sarcasm. "Last I recall you'd decided to fly solo."

Cal winced at the verbal blow. He started dragging their dead man toward a stall as he backpedaled, "You were right about Dee, okay? I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Li hummed and returned her pins to her hair. "Why are you here, Cal. Someone after you?"

"No!" He said, insulted. "No, I'm here with an offer from my employer. Pay's good. Benefits are better." He examined his fingernails for debris as he reemerged from the stall.

"What benefits?" Li asked, sensing a catch.

Cal glanced at the door before stepping closer. Li could now see his nails looked wrong—too long and too sharp. She blinked, and they were normal. Cal leaned in to whisper, "Someone's figuring out powers, and they're getting damn good at it." His voice changed as he spoke, taking on a deep, growling quality that made her hair stand on end. His eyes were yellow instead of blue when he leaned away from her.

"As...interesting as that sounds, I doubt your employer will want me," Li Jing states. "My time's almost out. This is my last gig before I go home."

Panic and dismay flashed in Cal's eyes—suddenly blue again. "Damn it, Li! I'd have come sooner if I'd known!"

She believed him.

"It's your heart?"

"Yeah."

Silence to rival the grave filled the space between them as Cal thought. "They might still be able to help." He raised a cautionary hand. "Don't ask me the science behind it, but they found this thing while trying to cure genetic disorders. It did both apparently."

Li Jing pinned him with a look sharp enough to cut bone.

"I'm not making any promises, but hey, it's a chance. You want in?" He asked, his usual arrogance drained away by something sadder.

"When do we leave?"