Damian's Assassin

"Talon, this is B," Jonny said in a breathless voice.

"A pleasure, B."

She took a step back, overwhelmed by the scene before her. She stared at her brother, who seemed unaware of where he was or what he did. Talon looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl before he took her arm. He sliced her forearm with a knife, watching in satisfaction as it healed before his eyes.

She wrenched away.

"The kid wasn't lying," he said. "You and me, babe. This could be fun."

She turned to run, panic flying through her at the feral look he gave her. He snatched her and half carried, half dragged her through the kitchen's opposite door. She struggled, but he wrapped his arms around her in a hold she couldn't break.

"Jonny!" she shouted.

"Do what I say, bitch, and I might not kill him!" the man named Talon snarled.

"The police are on their way!" she cried. "They'll be-- "

"Shut the fuck up!"

He shoved open a door to the dark night and carried her to an awaiting car. She planted her legs against the frame of the car.

"Jonny!" she screamed.

Fiery pain tore through her as he stabbed her in the neck.

*****

Dustin, the White God's chief assassin and commander of the western hemisphere, awoke in a cold sweat with his heart racing. The clock blazed 3:30 in his otherwise dark condo. An hour of sleep was the longest he'd managed in over a week, and he felt more tired than when he lay down.

We'll meet soon, brother, his long-dead sister had told him right before he awoke.

He'd dreamt many times about his sister and his family, but she'd never talked to him directly. Her soulful gaze and gentle words gave him the creeps. She appeared as he remembered her the day of her murder: a ten-year-old with long blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and golden skin. Her words fueled the sense of dread he'd felt the past two weeks, since he'd lost contact with his closest friends.

He sat as the dream faded and patted the necklace with the dangling sun-star symbol marking his demigod status. It was a comforting combination of the symbols belonging to his adopted brothers: the sun worn by Damian, the White God, and the star worn by Jule, the expelled immortal and eastern hemisphere's commander.

His condo swayed in the harsh winds of the latest storm spawned from the massive depression in the Gulf. Rain splattered hard against his windows, drawing his gaze to the windows.

We'll meet soon, brother, she'd said. Yeah, creepy was the right word.