Chapter 10: Mira
She studied the two figures leaving the pack mansion. The Alpha took the Julliard couple into an interrogation earlier and she could hear everything they’ve said in the Alpha’s office. Mira’s Hawkeyes fixated on them as they entered their car. She didn’t really care if they mentioned her name during the interrogation. But, they’ve mentioned Griffin’s name. That didn’t always go well. She hated it when her human acquaintances got dragged into the trouble. She knew the laws of the Werewolf’s Council but it didn’t mean the Alpha would always go by the playbook.
Mira checked her surroundings to make sure the patrolling team was not anywhere near her position yet. She knew their patrolling schedule after two weeks of studying their movement. That made her job easier to sneak past by them. Each team took two to four minutes to arrive at their designated area. It gave her enough time to leave their patrolling perimeter. The Southern Werewolves Pack owned a vast territory, but they didn’t cover the whole territory in their patrolling.
Mira jumps to the next branch and kept going until she was out of the patrolling perimeter. As she walked to her motorbike, she pulled out her phone to warn Grover and Griffin about the possibility of the Alpha coming for them.
“What now?” Grover answered sleepily and with irritation.
“They took The Julliard couple for interrogation. I think he might come after you and Griffin.”
“It’s risky for him to do that.”
Risky but possible. An Alpha could get unpredictable.
“He’s an Alpha, Grover,” She reminded him. “Just because he has rules, it didn’t mean he’s following them all the time.”
“You said he wouldn’t come after us,” He grunted in annoyance.
“I might have misjudged him.”
“What’s with you and the Alpha? You’ve encountered many Alphas before. Why was one?”
“It would be better if you don’t know the full story.”
She hung up before he could say his response. Mire wasn’t sure if she even wanted to have a mate at this rate, especially when the Werewolf’s Council wanted her. Having an Alpha as her mate would increase the chance of the Werewolf’s Council to reprimand her. They were doing everything in their power to get her captured. They would drag Cohen into the problem if the Werewolf’s Council knew he was her mate.
Every werewolf desired to have a mate. For her, that desire happened before she found out what she was. The Werewolf’s Council had never been a problem to her. She could escape from them as easy as she escaped from Dalton. Her impending trial wasn’t the problem. It was what she was—that was her main problem.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket as she started her motorbike. Mira checked the new message that read: Delivery arrives in forty-five minutes.
In the supernatural world, the real danger didn’t involve someone got arrested by the Werewolf’s Council. No, Mira never considered the Councilors as the ultimate dangers. She had escaped the most secure facility in the history of all facilities.
The main danger in the supernatural world was the people she encountered along the way. Trust was the main issue nowadays. She could hardly trust anyone especially those who interested in her bounty. A close friend could turn into a formidable foe within seconds.
For over a decade, Mira still could count the number of the people she trusted with her fingers. She had dealt with many types of people—werewolves, vampires or the likes of humans. Many of them didn’t dare to stab her on the back, but just because they wouldn’t, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t later on. That was what she called “reliable acquaintances”. She could rely on them until their loyalty shifted away.
By the time she reached the pawn shop, Griffin was loading two black bags into his Jeep at the back of his pawn shop. The man acted like he was a vampire. He didn’t sleep much or going out much unless it was a business related. Ninety-five percent of the time, he spent it in the pawn shop. He worked and lived there. The remaining five percent, he spent it outside the pawn shop—buying groceries, getting stuff for his shop or clients, and eating out.
“Encountered the Alpha again?” He asked with an amused smile as he shut the back garage door of his shop after she parked her motorbike inside.
Griffin was baiting her emotion once again.
“No,” She replied apathetically.
They hopped into the car with Griffin on the driver’s seat while she rode shotgun. He kept one hand on the steering wheel. His eyes were stealing glances at her a few times as if he wanted to say something but decided not to.
“Spit it out, Griffin,” Mira grumbled.
“I heard the Alpha interrogated the Julliard,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, he’s coming for us—for Grover and me.”
The redheaded huntress looked at him briefly. “Why? Are you afraid he’ll kill you both?”
He shrugged. “Nah, I’ve lived my life the way I wanted. I have nothing to lose if I die in his hands.”
“Inspiring,” Mira responded sarcastically.
There were a few people she would risk everything to keep them safe. Griffin was one of those few people. From the beginning, she trusted him with all she had. If he wanted to betray her, he would have done it a long time ago. She still could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear he had when he was about to be a dinner for a rogue vampire. Because of that, he couldn‘t come out of his home—his safe zone. It took Griffin seven months to recover from the terrifying experience. By the time he stepped out of his house, he dropped out of college. He couldn’t handle having a normal life after what he had witnessed. He worked with many other clients but never a vampire. Perhaps, it still traumatized him.
Mira never asked him about his family. Just like her, a family’s topic was a sensitive topic.
“Do you ever think what could have happened if everything was normal?” Griffin asked her after a minute of silence.
Mira stared out of the window as the question repeated inside her mind. What could have happened if she was born as a human? Or everything was normal? No vampire. No werewolf. No supernatural world. Just a world of human. She couldn’t picture herself not knowing the things she had known now.
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it,” She admitted truthfully. “It never works on a person like me.”
Griffin nodded. “I could picture mine. Finishing my studies, marry the love of my life and raising kids. Buy a ranch.”
“You still have the chance to have that.”
“I don’t think I could ever marry a girl without jeopardizing her life because of my line of work.”
Mira leaned her forehead to the window, thinking about what he had said. She couldn’t mate with Cohen without putting his life at risk. She didn’t have the chance to be happy. The entire world wanted to get her. Cohen would get in the crossfire.
The rest of the journey filled with silence. The car passed the park. Many families and couples were having fun. It made the void in her heart grew larger. Having a family and falling in love were the two things out of her reach.
“We’re here,” Griffin said.
Ahead of their car, there were three black SUVs along five armed men and an old man in a grey trench coat, black tapered suit, and a white shirt. He was in his mid-seventies. On the two wooden crates in front of them lined two long black briefcases. Mira got out of the Jeep along with Griffin.
“Miss Red, it was good to see you again,” The older man greeted her.
To the others, he was just an old man working with the outlaws. To those who knew him, he was a well-known businessman. They called him ‘The Blacksmith’. Nobody knew his real background or real name.
He designed, created, and supplied weapons—guns, bow and arrow, swords and anything that made into a killing tool. He did this for the right price. Nobody did a free job anymore because everything was a business.
“Just like how you wanted them to be.” He gestured to the two black briefcases on the crates.
In the first briefcase was dual short swords made of pure silver. It had a long line of engraved Greek words “There was no victory without sacrifices” on the blade. She tested the short swords with several movements. The balance was just right for her. Everything on the swords is just like how she requested it to be. Her signature red gem on the hilt. Mira set down the swords back into the briefcase before reaching the next briefcase. A set of six hunting knives.
“They’re freshly stoned,” The Blacksmith informed her.
The redheaded huntress signaled Griffin to bring the money back before saying, “The same price, I assume.”
“The same price,” He affirmed with a nod. “You know, my other clients prefer a long-range weapon: bow and arrow, guns, stuff like that.”
Griffin placed the money bags on the crates and unzipped it. Two armed men closed the briefcase before they made the exchange with the pawn shop’s owner.
“But, not you.” The Blacksmith gestured to her. “You prefer weapons for close-range combat. Close-range combat is dangerous.”
Yes, close-range combat was dangerous. But, that made it so much better.
Where was the fun of doing long-range combat? Sitting in the sniper nest, stalking the target through the scope before pulling the trigger. No adrenaline rush. There was no fun in that. Mira liked to have a conversation with her target to know each other better before she reaped their lives. It was always intriguing to hear what they had to say while they were standing in front of the death’s door. They would say anything to get her to spare their lives. Did she ever spare anyone’s life? She never did that. Once someone made into her list, there was no sparing.
“I prefer to look them dead in the eyes when I kill them,” She answered.
He laughed at her statement because he knew the truth in it. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Red,” He said to her as she spun around and headed to the car. “I hope to see your masterpiece in the coming news.”
“You could count on it,” She said over her shoulder.