RavensDagger
Epilogue
Caroline Daniels was the world's best assassin.
She wasn't known for it, because famous assassins were usually only famous posthumously. The right people in the right pces knew that if they asked the right questions--and paid the right amount--someone would come along and do their dirty deeds for them only to fade away and never be heard of again.
It was a lucrative job, and even though she was a little bit dead, she was still proud of her work.
Queen Violence was still the world's best assassin.
A little impairment such as being stuck in the body of a kitten wasn't going to strip her of her hard-earned knowledge.
This wasn't the life that Caroline expected for herself, but she... could live with it, she supposed.
Being a cat had its upsides. She was back home even now, sitting in a comfortable loaf position, with her babies all around her.
Arsenic was licking himself clean in a corner, and she was sandwiched between Cyanide and Mercury. Beldonna was also loafing, but was up on top of a bookshelf, hidden deep within the shadows where only the occasional fsh of her eyes in the dark could be seen.
And next to her, ying across the couch at an awkward angle to not push the cats off, was her wayward orphan of a student.
Sharp was idly tapping away on a tablet, entirely unaware of the introspective mood her master was in. Caroline eyed her with half-lidded eyes, taking in her gormless expression as she smiled at the tablet she held.
Sharp had... potential, Caroline was ready to admit. The girl was going somewhere. Probably to an early grave, but she was definitely going to make the trip there memorable.
"Sharp," she said.
"Mm?" Sharp asked.
"You're alright."
Sharp blinked at that, then gave her a pin-faced, confused look. "Huh?"
Caroline decided not to eborate any.
***
Things had been looking up for Fasmine Sharp from the moment she got that weird ding-ding that went off in her head. The sound had been the announcement that things were changing for her, and in a big way.
One minute she'd been living on the street, all alone, and a little worried that things were never going to improve, and the next... well, at least she'd been given some hope. Hope that happened to pay out, in the end.
She wondered now if she should make more of an effort to pay that forward. There was so much good she could do. But a lot of good meant doing some bad. It was something she knew, even if she didn't want to live with that knowledge all the time.
Fasmine lived by a simple creed; be happy when you can. If push came to shove, it wasn't hard to force oneself to be happy, even when they really shouldn't be.
She hadn't been living on the street for no reason.
She hadn't had to keep her happy creed going because her life before had been happy.
The orphanage hadn't been the most pleasant pce to grow up in, but it had been enough. Two and a half square meals a day, secondhand everything, but they were a happy family, and every time one of them was adopted, they swore they'd help those left behind. And sometimes they even did.
The people who worked there were good, for the most part. The pay was low, and the hours awful, and a lot of the kids had issues of one sort or another, so the job tended to attract people who actually cared and that was worth a lot.
Then the pce was sold. The government was tired of shouldering the cost, and when a little corporation owned by a medium-sized one, in turn owned by a big one came around... well, they found ways to make it profitable.
At first it was little jobs, then bigger ones, then some that were a little more dangerous. But they got stuff out of it too, and it wasn't all bad.
Then they discovered some things. It was rumours at first, but one of those that was adopted had new parents who knew people who knew, and the owner of the new company that ran their home had a... reputation.
Fasmine and a few of the older kids had ventured out and found people from other pces he'd run. The stories were true.
They turned her gut.
And when he showed up one evening, all smiles and a snazzy business suit... Fasmine had been working the kitchens. She had this big knife.
Obviously, she couldn't stay in the orphanage, couldn't keep using her name too much either.
So she found an alleyway. It wasn't even far from home, but the Boston police never looked that far.
And then it happened. The system leapt out of nowhere and grabbed her, gave her hope once more.
Sharp, not Fasmine because no one had used that name in a while, reached over and ran a hand over Caroline's back, feeling the rough fur beneath her fingers.
Yeah, things were looking up for her, but when she gnced back and over her shoulders, she was worried that the things behind her might one day catch up.
She jumped when her phone rang.
It was the one that Jenny had the number for, and when she answered and listened in to what the girl had to say, she found herself sitting up. "Break's over," she said with a sigh as she hung up. "Looks like someone needs us, Queen Violence!"
Sharp couldn't say she had any compints about life at the moment!
***
A note from RavensDaggerDone!