Who is Magpie?

Inside there was a knot, like a gag in her soul preventing her from something. Everything felt off as she packed her slim backpack with the bare necessities. A knife, lock picks, a flashlight, collapsible baton, a second knife. She stuffed a a second shirt into the bottom of the bag, and then wrapped the braid Kay had made for her around the its base, pinning it into a bun. A sigh had clogged in her throat, unable to be released and ease the tension.

An empty container zoomed through the tube system into her room and she sent it back, it was time to go. She looked over the room with a numb feeling she wished she could understand, moving toward the door before detouring to her box of deceased plant tags. Digging through it she found the one she wanted and quickly wrote a letter on it before slipping it into the bundle of Kay's clothes she left on the bed.

This level of sentiment baffled her, and she had to force her hands to comply with this knot to finish the task. When she was done she felt utterly exhausted; like she had done it all with cinder blocks strapped to her arms. Despite that, she felt the knot ease just slightly and she left her room.

Somewhere in her she felt a sadness as she walked away from her plants, that she was happy to have just tended to a few hours before. No one had said this mission was any different, and it had been presented to her with no greater importance than picking a pocket for a security card, but she could feel it. There was a certain firmness to this task, like an ending to a story where all the loose ends came together. She thought about how being sent to assassinate someone generally made the others react, and wondered why she couldn't react at all.

Swan had been waiting just outside for her to pack and managed a weak smile when they met again. "Ready?"

Magpie nodded as she began down the stairs then felt an odd tug on her bag from Swan. "Just incase." She smiled weakly again, and Magpie made a note to check that pocket later.

The word 'if' played its way through her head wanting something to connect to, but instead it just bounced around off the sides like a broken pong machine. They took a side passage in the servants halls that Magpie never used because it went directly to the Martin's office.

The Martin sang her praises and bravery at taking the assignment. Blessing her with good fortune and swift reflexes. The driver assigned to deliver her just looked uncomfortable at the spectacle, but Magpie scarcely heard him. That word 'if' bounced around, swatting away the promises of her favourite meal and new additions to her room when she returned.

He didn't care that she wasn't listening, he never did. Everything he said was for everyone other than Magpie, and she was just there to be put on an inflated pedestal; easily struck by a pin.

Once in the car the driver turned up the music to avoid conversation. He knew what this mission was because he had not been asked to stay close for extraction. He was to drop her off one block away and head straight back. If by some miracle she got out she would need to outrun and throw off the barrage of wolves who would be hot on her heals on her own.

Her jaw hadn’t relaxed from the words of ‘appreciation’ sung by the Martin even as they arrived and she climbed out of the car, so she resorted to a partial nod that was returned with a nod of the same sort. The driver halted his own response as he wanted to wish her luck or apologize for being the one to bring her here, but both parties thought everything was better unspoken at this point. He peeled out quietly, and Magpie set towards her task.

The packhouse was in the centre of a brick fence, but the house was so far in the middle of the walls, and that ground would be the most difficult to cover unnoticed. As she edged around it, absorbing the number of doors a truck pulled up nearby, skittering to a stop as the driver was uncomfortable driving stick. A slight howling sound escaped one of the men inside as he laughed at the driver, and Magpie had to act without a second thought. Quickly rolling and sliding under the truck she gripped the undercarriage tightly, pulling herself off the ground.

Worst case, they weren't pulling into the packhouse and she would let go at the next stop, but if by some grace they pulled through those gates and parked inside the garage... she nearly held her breath as they approached the gates, begging for them to turn, all too happy when they did. They gave their names and stations to the guard in the watch box as they pulled in, and Magpie had to tighten her grip as they moved up the long stone driveway, but it was working.

The boys continued to bark and howl with booming laughs at every jerk the driver made, but their speech was too low to be heard over the noises of the car.

"Not too bad Berry." One of the men said hopping out of the car after they'd parked.

"Really and truly." Another joked, receiving a smack in response.

Magpie held her breath and her grip as tightly as she could, feeling the cold bite of the rusty metal in her palms. This would make or break her, she didn’t know that they would do it they found her out now, but she could bet that she wouldn’t get a second attempt. She would rather pass out than risk breathing around the wolves and their heightened senses, and waited until they left to move a single muscle other than her eyes that tracked what she could see of their feet.

When the door to the garage closed she took an extra minute to assure no one else has lingered behind before letting go of a quiet breath and carefully lowering herself to the ground. It was late now, or early, surely the ones inside would be heading to bed soon and the ones outside would remain there. So she waited. She waited until she couldn’t hear anyone else walking around, and then she slid out from under the car.

SQUEEEEK.

She hadn’t had time to look for her good shoes and the soggy trainers would give her away. Barefoot would leave footprints and someone could hear her tacky footfalls, so against her better judgement she went forward in her socks, tossing her shoes in a rubbish bin. That word ‘if’ bounced around again as she thought about coming back for them but had nothing to stick to.

The garage door was locked, but she had been prepared for this much. Picking it without a problem she peered into the dimly lit hall. Sliding one blade into a sheath on her leg she clutched the other in her hand, two fingers wrapped around the handle and her pointer and middle over the guard, ready to flip the blade in either direction. She wondered her odds of success in out maneuvering anyone here, but it was a little late for that. Her only chance was surprise.

The Alpha’s room would be the biggest room, the only room with double doors, likely on the second floor. So she stuck against the walls, carefully placing her footsteps and staying within the shadows. It would do her little good with anyone near enough to see or smell her, but it was all she had to calm her racing heart. Each second that she heard nothing her heartbeat slowed a little more.

She found the main stairs taking one step at a time, admiring their construction as not a single one creaked or moaned beneath her weight. Down the hall she found the double doors, but she didn’t know what the alpha looked like, so she had to hope it was him behind it. She gave the door a slight push, testing it, and was surprised when it opened.

‘This is it, two lives end tonight.’ She thought, and that was the closest she had come to admitting her biggest fear, as the bouncing ‘if’ fell like a rock in her heart. ‘I’m sorry Kay.’

She slinked in the room pushing the door closed behind her. The room smelt like her own, full of woody and green notes. She wanted to find and identify the plants, but she knew there wasn’t time and that would require her to be able to see them. She snuck over to the bed, squinting in the dim light at the massive man hidden under only a sheet. She had one shot, if she missed his cry would summon his guards, and with the way he tossed in the bed in the dark she had trouble tracking him in the dark.

She tried to force her eyes to focus, wondering if the flashlight would wake him before she had time to find the mark. She was about to find out when the light beside her flicked on.

“What the fuck.” He muttered.

She didn’t look for his face, instead flipping the knife in her hand and flinging her arm out and away from herself in attempt to slice him, just to buy time. She was barely successful, drawing a line across his chest that would heal in just a few minutes. She was failing, and that pained in the back of her head.

“A … human?” He questioned.

She said nothing, backing up and circling the bed, his eyes followed her almost curiously, or confused. She made a small pained sound, not because anything hurt but because she knew it would break his focus. She took the opportunity to land her foot on a trunk and leap on top of the bed.

With her blade held tightly she led with that hand, expecting it when he wrapped his large hand around her wrist. Using that distraction she pulled the second blade off her leg and swipe at him again, catching his cheek this time.

There was no stopping it this time, their eyes met his hazel eyes finding her earthy brown ones and locking on. There was a stirring in her chest, something she didn’t understand. Her movements only halted for a moment before her tea with the Martin played over in her head. ..