Rule number thirteen; We try to hide our feelings but we forget that our eyes can speak.

I press my back against the wall, silencing my thoughts and my breathes as I wait for my target to appear.

The woman walks around the corner, heels clicking against the pavement as I stumble in front of her.

I pull the hood over my head as I sway, bumping shoulders with her.

She scoffs, pulling away from me with a look of disgust.

"Whoops." I slur a giggle as I push back from her before rocking forwards again. She glares down at me, stalking off. I look at her phone in my hand and the keys to her apartment dangling from my fingers.

I close my fist around them before turning the corner and walking to my car.

I hop in the beat-up ford before turning the ignition on. Unlocking the phone and going through her contacts, smirking when I find the name of my other target.

I send a quick text from the woman to her sister. Asking her to meet at the woman's apartment before locking it and throwing it on the passenger seat.

What's the saying; two bids, one stone?

My own personal phone lights up with a text as I buckle in. I grab it.

'Agent Eleven, requested to base immediately.'

I call Director before the text has fully registered.

He picks up on the fifth ring.

"I'm not coming to base. Tell me what's happening." I say into the phone before he has the chance to say anything, starting the ignition with one hand.

The call connects to the bluetooth, and I drop my phone on the passenger seat.

"Agent." He breathes out, the tension in his voice obvious.

"Samael." I sneer.

"This is not a conversation for over the phone."

"Just tell me, I have a mission to complete." My eyes glance in the rear-view mirror at the oncoming traffic. I flick the indicator on,

There's a long stretch of silence. "Agent Twelve is M.I.A."

My hand cuts the ignition on the car, and I reach for the phone, bringing it to my ear.

"Where was she last seen?" I ask, swallowing back my emotions as my throat burns.

"Eleven, you're not going after her. I have a team on it."

"No, they don't know Lilac like I do. I'll be able to find her."

"No."

"I'll figure it out. I know who she was going after."

The infamous hitman, Jedrik Molotov.

"We'll find her."

"No, you won't. I will."

I hang up the phone, letting it fall to my lap as I bring the car back to life and pull from the curb, ignoring the beeping car behind me and speeding down the road.

• • •

I slam my hand into the wheel as the smoke billows from the engine, my eyes blurring.

The cut above my brow stings with a vengeance. A choked sob leaves my lips and I hit the door, slamming it open and clawing at the seatbelt holding me.

A screech leaves my lips when I finally get it undone, my fingertips smarting.

I throw my arms up, walking towards the man staring at me.

"Why?!" I scream, tears streaking down my face. "Tell me why?!"

"Agent Eleven, I need you to calm down."

"Tell me why?"

Director shakes his head, looking down at me.

"I could've saved her!" The cry wrenches from my throat, my hands slapping against Director's chest. "I could've saved her."

"No, you couldn't. She was dead when we got there."

My knees hit the concrete, rocks digging into the skin. "I could've saved her."

"It's done, Agent."

"Why? Why couldn't you let me go?" My voice cracks but still he stays stubbornly silent.

The clouds split, thunder roaring as rain plunges down. My tears mixing with the taste of rainwater on my lips.

"You're a coward. You're letting them get away with it."

"There's nothing we can do."

I push myself from the ground, taking a threatening step forward, the tears clouding my vision.

"It's your fault she's dead. It's your fucking fault," I choke, a splutter leaving my lips.

My name leaves his lips, the word venomous.

"Don't," I screech, "Don't fucking call me that. You have no right."

His hands land on my shoulder, holding me still as the Agent by his side crowds in.

I push back, chipped nails scratching at his hands. Blood lines the skin, my voice cracking.

The needle slides into my skin, my vision blurring around the edges as a thick layer of honey coats my limbs.

They drop, and Director lets go, my knees smash into the ground before the rest of me follows.

"It's your fault." The whispered words leave my lips seconds after thunder cracks across the sky, cutting me to the bone. "They won't get away-"

I blink, the movement too slow.

Samael's head lifts and he nods to someone else, the hazy figures of people in white coats surrounding me.

"Take her."

Hands grab at me, and I push back weakly, blinking up at him. "I'll never forgive you."

"One day you will."

"I'll kill you before I ever forgive you." I murmur as the darkness finally tightens its clutches and I disappear into the abyss.

I blink out of the memory, staring at the swaying bag across from me, knuckle aching.

August seventh used to be yours and now it's just another day.

I flex my fist, rubbing a finger over my sore knuckles with a grimace.

"I thought I told you to use wraps." I hear a voice mutter behind me, and I spin, raising a brow at Archer.

He raises his back, lifting his hand and the wraps that spill from his palm, his brows raising when I don't move to take them. "You're distracted."

I open my mouth to refute his statement, before closing it.

I shrug, but don't reply.

He tilts his head at me, analysing me but he doesn't ask any questions, "Are you ready to begin?"

I look to the clock, "It's five isn't it?"

He grunts in reply and moves for the mat. "Let's begin."

After almost two weeks of these training sessions, I had to admit maybe Archer was right in getting me to do this every morning. My muscles felt new, refreshed, my mind ready.

I hate to admit it but maybe I had slacked off in my year away, I was too consumed with searching for the truth that I forgot that I needed to look after myself too. 

He lifts both his hands, making a 'come hither' motion with his fingers and I lift an amused brow.

"I'll let you hit first." He murmurs lowly, the sound tingling along my spine.

"Oh, will you, now?"

He stalks backwards, keeping his hazel eyes on me, dark and inviting.

The mat squeaks under my steps seconds before I target a kick towards his side, I feign left before spinning and shoving my elbow into his shoulder.

He catches it, long fingers winding around my bicep. I spin my head to the side, hair flying into his face before twisting my body and bringing my fist to his vulnerable face.

He ducks, fingers letting go of my arm and uses his foot to trip me over. My back hits the mat, breath whispering past my lips as my chest rises and falls with my hurried breaths, back arched slightly.

He smirks down at me; a slight dimple appearing on his right cheek and holds out his hand for me.

"I'll let you win next time, Sarge."

I grind my teeth at that stupid nickname and grab his hand, pulling him down closer.

My legs come up over his shoulder and I twist, his body falling to the mat with my thighs around his head. I manoeuvre and loosen my legs, straddling his hips before bringing my face close to his, I raise a challenging brow.

"Will you now?"

He looks down at my body on his and grins, "This position seems familiar." He lifts his hand and drags it through his hair, mussing up the brunette locks. "And if I remember correctly, I won that time."

I move, pushing off his chest and standing up. I reach a hand out to him. He grasps it and I pull him up. I let my fingers linger on his before slowly pulling away, clearing my throat softly.

"If I remember correctly," I say as I spin around and walk for the middle of the mat again. "Neither one of us won." I let the innuendo linger.

A chuckle escapes him, and his eyes wanders down my body as a small grin tightens his mouth.

I correct my position on the mat and bring my hands up, "Again."

His eyes flash to mine and darken, his tongue peaking from his mouth as he lick his lips and stalks closer.

He brings his hands up slowly, fingers flexing.

"Give it your best shot."

He tilts his head as if in challenge and I answer.

I throw a quick one-two jab before entering his personal space and lifting my knee, aiming for his groin.

What? All is fair in love and war.

He moves to the side too quick, winding his arm around my throat and pulling my body back to his. His lips skim my ear when he laughs.

"Playing dirty."

"You haven't seen dirty." I whisper back, jamming my elbow into his stomach before kicking back into his shin. I use my hips to throw him back, before grasping his arm around my throat and prying it off.

It moves just enough for me to spin in his embrace, our faces dangerously close.

I bring my lips dangerously close to his, looking down at them through my lashes.

His heart pounds roughly against my chest and my gaze swings back to his.

I smirk, lifting my knee.

He tilts his head, chuckling and his arm moves to my waist, tightening so my body is flush against his.

A breath of air leaves me at the contact, my stomach tightening.

My hands land on his chest and his fall to my waist.

I breathe roughly, staring into his eyes.

"You need to find some other tricks, Sergeant." He groans out, fingers tightening on my hip.

I laugh breathlessly, "Teach me."

His eyes flicker to my lips, tracing the contours.

My own flicker to his, tracing his wide lips with my eyes. A small dimple sits on the corner of his lips, it tightens when his mouth moves and the dimple on his left cheek makes an appearance.

His hand lifts to my head, winding into my hair. Pushing my face closer to his with my hair locked in his fist, slight pain stinging from my scalp.

He hesitates.

The door to the training room slams open,

"Are you about to kiss?" Liams voice interrupts the moment and I push myself away.

Fucking hell.

Breathing heavily, I glance over my shoulder at Liam who waggles his eyebrows. "Did I interrupt?"

I purse my lips, turning back to where my shirt sits and swipe it up.

I pull it over my head, ignoring the eyes on me.

"There's so much tension, you guys really need to unpack this." Liam says, moving his hand in a figure eight movement. "Try therapy, or sex. Sex always works for these things."

I shake my head with a roll of my eyes as I pass by him.

He stops me at the door.

"I can be a good wingman, just let me know."

"Liam," Archer's voice sounds, and I begin walking again. "Time for your training.

"Ooh are we going to do the same things. Do you have a crush on me? Sorry, you're not my type. Clay is though."

I bite my lips to hide the beginnings of a smile and shut the door behind me.

I breathe out and brush the hair from my face, stumbling to a stop as Clay walks down the hall.

He narrows his familiar green eyes on me, saying nothing though the distrust is heavy in the air.

I walk past him, keeping my head down, only stopping when I feel a hand curl around my arm.

I look up into Clays eyes, pulling my arm from his grip.

"I don't know why you're back, but my team is not a part of it, leave Archer alone."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stay away from him." Clay says, "Actually stay away from all of us. You don't belong here."

He doesn't know how wrong he is.

He shoves past me, stalking down the stairs, shoulders tense.

I hiss in a breath, watching him disappear towards the training room, his blonde hair glinting under the harsh lighting of the hallway.

I turn around, brushing a hand through my own blonde hair and stalk to my room, breathing out harshly.

Maybe this'll be harder than I thought.