black hair. One of Skye’s constant irritations growing up was that instructors—particularly early in a course—would confuse them. Apparently they looked enough alike that the instructors couldn’t see past the physical. If they had, they would have seen just how different both women were.
Both got good grades, but Liora always scored well on weapons use, hand-to-hand fighting, and willingness to go after an opponent. Skye’s hand-eye coordination wasn’t that good, so she and weapons didn’t always get along, and she would back off if she didn’t think she had a good reason to fight someone.
She had only fought Liora once, and had lost miserably. Liora didn’t have any empathy for her opponent, even though the fights were in class, and she had known her opponents for much of her life. Liora fought to win.
Skye would back down, which always got her poor marks. In mock fights, assassins were supposed to recognize that their lives were often on the line, just like their targets’ lives were. Skye couldn’t make that mental leap. She wasn’t sure if she could make it if her life really were in danger. So far, in all the years she had been working off her debt to the Guild, she hadn’t had to find out.
Skye wove through the crowd, careful to keep someone between herself and Liora. She wasn’t sure why she felt it imperative that Liora didn’t see her, but Skye trusted her gut. Her gut had gotten her into and out of serious situations before, often without harming anyone.
Something about Liora seemed off to her, but she wouldn’t be able to describe what that something was.
Liora made her way to the central concourse of Krell, doing her best to remain out of sight just like Skye was. Skye had no idea whom Liora was trying to avoid, but she thought someone else might be around. Or maybe she was trying to avoid the surveillance cameras which everyplace—including Krell—had in abundance.
The difference between Krell and most other places was that Krell never released its footage to the authorities—any authorities. Krell sat in the NetherRealm, the neutral space between several jurisdictions, and resolutely refused to join any of them for any reason.
Liora headed to the very bar that Skye and Jack had frequented the night before. Only Liora ducked inside.
Skye wasn’t sure how she could follow—Liora would recognize her after all. Then she saw where Liora sat, toward the back, facing the wall, obviously thinking more about going unseen and unrecognized than worrying about her own safety.
Odd. That went against training. But sometimes just acting on training alone allowed others to find Assassins Guild members. Maybe the improper position was more of Liora’s cover.
Skye elbowed her way to the bar. She ordered that same lemon fizzy thing she had ordered the night before. Only this time, she sat at the very edge of the bar, just behind an obese man who seemed to be a regular here. He had been in the very same spot nursing a different drink the night before.
Liora sat alone. Skye scanned the area including the concourse, looking for another familiar face. Through the open door, she saw one, but not one she expected.
She saw Jack.
He didn’t look inside the bar. Instead, he headed away from it, his movements furtive and odd. Her heart pounded. She both wanted him to look in her direction and she didn’t want him to. Her cheeks flushed.
She felt like a vulnerable teenager—or what she thought a vulnerable teenager must have felt like, because she had never been one. All those crushes, all those sleepless nights thinking about attractions and the opposite sex—she left all of that to girls like Liora. Skye had had secret crushes, but she had never acted on them and had always ignored them.
In some ways, she continued to do that now. She didn’t want to see Jack again. The night before, that marvelous night, had to become a memory. She couldn’t lose focus or she would make mistakes.
And
Learning to Kill: Stories