never wanted to dance [scotland, open]

•• A lazy, predatory smile tugged at pink lips, a flash of teeth; as if on the merge of a snarl. The man on the floor cowered at the black muzzle that was aimed at his forehead, horror and fear widening his eyes, dilating his pupils. With a disgusted snort, the green-eyed hunter lowered the gun to her side, antipathy clearly written on her pale features. “You disgust me, Konstantin. But then again, I guess I should have figured as much; didn’t your brother turn out to be a coward as well a few years ago?” she sneered, nudging the man lying on his side in the fetal position with her black boot. The man whimpered, lifting his hands to cover his face, pleading for her not to kill him, that he had a wife and kids he had to feed. His words did not bring so much as a hitch to her movements as she raised the gun again. But rather than pulling the trigger and getting his blood all over her outfit, Keira bomped him on the forehead with the hilt of the gun, knocking him out, and then snapped his neck before he hit the ground. Corrosion sure would be a handy ability for an assassin, she thought. Without a body, there was no crime to be investigated, no evidence to hint that there had even been a crime. But only people affected by that virus had abilities such as that and there was no use thinking about that.

•• With a puff of air, Keira blew aside her layered black tresses, straightening and returning her 32 caliber semi-automatic to the holster around her hips, turning to leave the area. The hunter was rather pissed by this point. Not only had she discovered that someone was snitching in her unit, but she could not figure out who the hell it was. Out of a gang of twenty-three, now twenty-two, men and women, she did not know which ones she could trust anymore. The man she had just killed had known nothing. In fact, he had probably been innocent. But her anger had forced her to kill him rather than back down and admit to a mistake. Every lead had turned up to a dead-end. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought they were all innocent. They knew better than to cross her. But one of them had to be a snitch, otherwise their last mission would have gone fine. Someone had tipped off the enemy. Not for the first time Keira wished she had been gifted with an ability that would have allowed her to dig into the most intimate corners of a person’s mind. But it was useless to wish for things that weren’t, and without spending a lot of time investigating her team, banging a few heads, and giving the snitch a chance to escape or hit again, Keira decided to call in a favor.

•• Will Argyris. Twenty-seven year old male. How many years ago had she met him. A few. He was one of the few people Keira actually felt deserved her respect. He was quite skilled really and one of the few people who didn’t piss her off after a while. They had been friends in the past, shared their bodies with one another for a while, but it had been a relationship that had not lasted long when they had to go their separate ways. They had met through some mutual contacts for some business a couple years back and while their friendship had not been chummy, Keira still considered him a reliable asset among her contacts. But despite all that, Keira still enjoyed playing her games and she did not intend to just call Will in, have him solve her problem, and then give him a boot out the door. Nope, not if she could help it. It had been Will she had contacted to meet her here now, in an old abandoned warehouse her crime empire owned, or more specifically, she owned. Why had she contacted this man? He was an informant to her of sorts, a human affected by the virus. She was a hunter who killed such humans - in addition to others. But they had an understanding. Will did her favors so that she didn’t kill him. He had telepathy and she was going to have him read the minds of her underlings until she found the culprit.

•• With a bored look, Keira leaned against a crate, lifting blood red manicured fingers, examining them for a moment as she waited for Will to show up. She was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans, knee-high leather boots with three inch heels, and a black long-sleeved, snug-fitting shirt with a V-cut neckline. A holter that carried her gun was attached at her hip to her jeans. Her hair, dyed black, fell loosely around her face and down her shoulders to the bottom tips of her shoulder-blades. The warehouse was dark except for a few rays of light that managed to creep their way in through the rafters and boarded up windows. But Keira didn’t mind it. She liked the dark. She liked shadows. Its where she felt at home, the most comfortable. Her name did mean dark after all. So, she supposed, she was who she had been meant to become. Silence ensued... Taking out her iPhone, which was stuck into her back pocket - Keira checked the time. Her informant was late.