Midnight, In the Storm [on temporary hiatus]

Ten: Time Twists Truth

Audree's bare hands cupped her cold-bitten cheeks as her patience ran lower and lower. She'd arrived on the open-air platform exactly on the stroke of 00:00 to find no sign of life present - that was forty-five minutes ago.

Fifteen more, fifteen more minutes and the alliance was over, Audree assured her agitated self.

Something must've arisen - she'd never pegged the assassin, as experienced yet infuriating as he was, to be the unreasonably tardy kind. She had learned the hard way that being even a second late could mean even the worst.

Audree shuddered, from the hint of memory rather than the cold - however unbearable both were.

The plumes of warm air fogged as soon as they departed from her lips, the tips of her blanched ears faded to a pale red - it was all a measly taste of the raging winter forecasted.

With just five more minutes to spare, a tall, built figure emerged from the ladder. His shoulder-length sable hair was tied up, as if he'd just ran one of his... errands.

Audree brushed off the idea, it was none of her concern after all, and crossed her arms, "about time, Blythe."

As he stormed closer, she could make out the slight specks of dried blood on the right of his face, and a smudge of red on the left - as if her predicaments were indeed true and he'd attempted to wipe the evidence off last minute, but only ended up smearing the gore.

"What held you up?"

Audree had a feeling settling in her gut, telling her she'd already known. Her clementine eyes bore into his approaching figure, she could only tacitly wish to be proved false.

His reply was exactly what she'd expected, "no prying, remember?"

She dragged a numb hand through her silken hair, "I still need to know if I can place my trust in your schemes and vice versa."

Audree looked up to glare into Keir's blank eyes, firmly returning her smoldering gaze, "last night - why did you interfere in my work?"

"Interfere in wh-"

She stopped.

Dread, oily and thick, filled her chest.

No. Way.

He hadn't even tried to keep it a mystery.

His usual smug composure was slack that night, as if he were worn. But Audree wasn't going to hope against hope.

She backed off, putting a fair amount of distance between them, "it really was you," she'd identified the pale gray parchment the type-written words were inked on, "You butchered that man in the tunnels."

Audree'd had her predictions, ignored them, but the assassin looked so haggard despite the expressionless facade he held up that, for a moment, Audree felt sorry for the complicit orders he had no choice but to follow unquestionably.

The consistent flow of lives he was sent to either heedlessly end or send to agony might as well have turned the abiding slaughter to a mindless task for the assassin.

Audree knew, as she was once in his place - but as a child.

No.

What on earth was she thinking? She needed a clear mind on this.

Keir's clear voice cut through her thoughts, "I'm doing this not because I hate the men I'm sent after, but because I stand for freedom of the masses, freedom of this hell that we are dragged into."