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The Black Rose

By Xhalar Skye

Rain fell in hard sheets on the exposed rooftop, with no wind to disturb it in its flight and send it hurtling off to destinations unknown. Lightning flashed regularly, providing split-second illumination of the otherwise hidden figure standing on the edge of the rooftop, looking down into the brightly lit city below. The figure had been standing there for more than a hour, the rain soaking into its bones even through the stark-black jacket it wore. Water dripped from its fingertips into the city far below, the figure taking no more notice of this than anyone would. It was waiting for something. For what, even it didn't know.

A soft noise from behind caught its attention, and it turned its face in time for a flash of lightning to illuminate its face even in the dark shadows cast by the hood it wore, revealing its muzzle to have a distinctly feminine curve to it, not the harsh corners of a male's. A single blue eye watched a crumbling piece of the roof break off from the pounding pressure of the rain and begin its long fall into the brightly-lit haven below. Then she returned to her vigil, though a hidden watcher might have noticed her paw move slightly closer to the jet-black revolver worn low on her hip.

The night was her natural habitat, and she blended into it well, the parts of her not covered by her black clothing clad in onyx fur, rendering her nigh invisible in this driving, black rain unless one was specifically looking for her. The only color visible on her was her eyes, though those were currently cast downwards, their sheen taking refuge in the multicolored lights of the city. She had been waiting and would continue waiting for as long as it took. Her easy posture and loose stance belied the cold, icy rage in her heart, so clearly reflected in her eyes, which was the main reason why she hid them. Rage was not a good thing to be brought to the bargaining table, for it could be manipulated in so very, very many ways.

She heard the door to the roof creak open behind her, and a muttered curse in a rough male voice. Obviously the owner of that voice had reservations about being out here in the cold and the wet, but she could care less. The door shut with a too-loud bang and she turned her head just enough to look at the new arrival. Stringy, tall, and shivering, the husky looked like an especially sad representation of his species, the usual canine muscle nowhere in evidence on his slight frame. She went back to looking at the city, clearly designating the male as a person of no major importance. To his credit, at least, he picked up on the dismissal and she almost felt him bristle as his fragile ego took a bruising hit. Still, he hesitated, and with an inaudible sigh she realized she would have to take the initiative in this conversation.

"I wanted someone important, not a damned paper-pusher." Her voice was smooth and silky, but not particularly inviting. It bespoke a cat baiting an unwary traveler into a trap, and the husky behind her didn't care for it at all. He bristled again at the insult to his position, speaking up immediately in his own defense.

"I'll have you know I'm a very successful member of the company, personal secretary to-" He seemed to realize his mistake before something important slipped, and immediately clamped up, cheeks burning red at the realization of how easily he's been tricked. The other, for her part, only laid claim to a slow smile, unseen by the husky, who simply glared at the figure's back. She spoke again, Eastern European accent tingeing her words slightly, enough to twist certain syllables but not enough to detract from her point.

"I suppose you have something for me? An offer?"

The husky slowly grew more confident; now he was in his element, a born deal-maker if ever there was one. And empowered by the company, as well. He was going to enjoy putting this high-and-mighty bitch in her place, and his employers had even guaranteed him a nice bonus when he brought her under the company's heel. He was all but rubbing his paws together in glee, but maintained an outward veneer of neutrality and the slightest bit of self-importance. When he spoke, it was with a tone of assurance that she would bend, and give herself up to the machinations of the power behind this man.

"You work for us. All your enviable skill becomes ours to command, and we do with it what we will. No backing out, no second thoughts. Everything you own becomes ours, and what we don't want we dispose of. In essence, you become another cog in the machine. Family, friends, associates, none of course can know about us. Try to contact them in any form and we'll have them killed." He let out a nasty chuckle at that last one. "We might even do that beforehand, just to ensure your cooperation. And in return, of course, you get what we deem you to be worthy of, based on your performance for us. Obedience is the highest priority, Miss Vasilieva." The last with a sarcastic spin on it, using the attached honorific as an insult, and also utilizing the dropping of her name as a indication of just how much the company had come to learn about her.

"Zalia."

The husky frowned in consternation. "What? I don't-"

She turned to face him for the first time, muzzle twisting into a grimace of distaste, at least what little he could see of it. She pushed the hood of her jacket back, shaking her head once to free any last strands of waterlogged, blood-red shoulder-length hair from the confines of the hood. Her eyes glinted with malic as she looked at him, those unnerving mismatched eyes that had creeped him out even from the photographs. The left was blue, and the right was green. She was so fucked up even her eyes didn't match, he thought with a little shiver of disgust as he stared at the revealed vixen before him, having cut himself off when he beheld her.

"No one calls me by my last name. Not anymore. Zalia will suffice." Her tone was icy cold, and brooked no argument. It didn't matter that much to the cold, wet husky, and he simply nodded in irritation as he awaited her answer to the deal he had posed her. She looked into the sky for a moment, squinting against the curtains of rain, before she appeared to reach a decision. Her eyes were steel as she spoke, committing herself to a course of action many would call reckless, or even suicidal.

"The terms are unacceptable," she said, but before the husky could protest she cut him off with a raised paw. "But that's not the answer I want you to take back to them." The husky subsided into a confused, frustrated silence. He hated going out into the field for deals, and this was why. Damned uppity freelancers, thinking they could get away with anything.

Her voice was soft, and menacing. "Here is my answer for Chromidium."

Without warning she whipped the onyx revolver from her thigh and two loud reports echoed into the night, drowned out by a sudden peal of thunder directly ahead as the rain began pouring down even more fiercely. The husky's scream as his kneecaps were blown out was all too audible, however, the man immediately crumpling to the ground, a second howl escaping his muzzle as his recently-destroyed means of locomotion scraped against the unforgiving concrete of the roof. Blubbering in pain, he looked up at the vixen as she calmly replaced her weapon, before striding purposefully over to the husky. His tears of pain mixed with the rain, his faint, pleading voice only able to croak out, "Please...please...," as he pitifully begged for his life with the only words remaining to him. She ignored him completely as she bent, and with surprising strength grabbed him by his throat and hauled him upright, also ignoring the choking sounds coming from the husky's abused throat. She dragged him over to the edge of the roof, paws closing around his throat for an instant before relaxing in a show of ersatz mercy. She held him suspended in the air by his throat, with one paw, over the edge of the roof.

In that last second he realized her intent, and his arms rose as if trying to scrabble at her for a handhold or some such, but it was far too little, far too late. With a malicious smile she released her hold, and the husky dropped with a seemingly unending howl as she completed her message to Chromidium. Satisfied with her work, and knowing they would get the message, the vixen turned and retreated into the building, out of the rain and cold. Now that she was locked into this course of action, she had to seek out some help.

It was time to get to work.