•~23~•

WARNING: VIOLENT SCENE UP AHEAD

    "Tell me who hired you," Raul said. "and I might just let you live."

The last surviving archer's eyes widened in terror. What kind of demon had he agreed to kill? Only a being from hell could best four assassins unarmed, and win. No matter, he couldn't die here. He just couldn't.

"It was Del Nico!" He blurted out. "Please don't kill me! I have a wife! And three kids! My mother is sick!... " He continued.

Not caring to listen to anyone's family problems, Raul let go of the archer's collar, letting him drop to the floor. The archer scurried away, glad to have been spared.

It turned out that the one who had been bold enough to try to murder Raul had been Del Nico of the California gang "Cannibals". It all made sense —only an idiot like Del Nico would take such an unnecessary risk like killing a gang leader in an event like this one. He stood the risk of making enemies of several gangs. He would only do such a thing if he was really desperate to see Raul dead. And Raul didn't blame him, because he'd put Del Nico in a tight corner.

Cannibals was the only gang that had reasonable competition with the Valdezian Mafia in the illegal weaponry business, even with their extremely small size —they were only about four to five in number. However, just recently, buyers had begun to lean towards the Valdezian Mafia, due to their reliability and prompt delivery of goods. The Cannibals gang was growing bankrupt, and the only sure way to restore their supremacy in the market would likely be to destroy the Valdezian Mafia, which is equivalent to killing their leader.

The odds had been against Del Nico tonight, but he'd come close to achieving his goal. Raul was impressed. But Del Nico still hadn't won.

Alone in the room, Raul placed his hands in his pockets, and stood still, catching his breath. He stared at the glass doors that Fuchsia had left through, contemplating his next move. Three dead bodies lay around him, but he wasn't fazed in the least. He'd seen so many dead bodies, some of which he had killed himself, he was now numb to the eerieness. He closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet citrus fragrance from the room's air freshener, then let it out with a heavy sigh. He then opened his eyes, and caught his reflection in the glass door —his reflection, with an archer he hadn't seen before behind him, and aiming at his back.

Raul swiftly jumped sideways, but he hadn't been fast enough. An arrow pierced his upper right arm, causing him to scream. Pain traveled rapidly through his arm, to his shoulders, then chest. The veins on his neck popped out and throbbed, as he tried to stifle the pain. He look at the new archer.

So there were actually five. He thought, and chuckled in mockery of himself, for making such a gross miscalculation.

This archer was a woman, unlike the others, but she was in a waiter's suit, just like them. Raul watched her reach for another arrow at her back. Playtime was over. He grabbed the arrow in his arm, and pulled it out. Blood shot out of the now open wound, but he paid it no attention. With an insane burst of speed, he ran to her, holding fast unto the arrow. The woman fended him off for a while, but she soon let her guard  down, and once an opening appeared, Raul drove the arrow she had shot him with into her neck.

The archer staggered back, gripping her neck. Blood flowed like a fountain from the spot the arrow had been pushed into. She struggled to look down at the arrow, but quickly gave up, and stared at Raul instead. He could see the disbelief in her eyes, the disbelief that her life had ended this pathetically.

The woman's legs gave way, and she fell to the ground, dead.

Almost instantly, several men dressed in black suit flooded the parlour. They stopped in their tracks, taking in the scene, with four people dead and Raul perfectly safe, uncertain of what to do next. They were all security guards and had rushed here, directed by the orders of their boss, Gerald Bernardo, to protect Raul Valdez. But he didn't seem to need any protection. 

Gerald and Fuchsia stood at the door. Raul faced them, and his and Gerald's gazes clashed. Both steadily scowled at each other, as Raul approached.

    "I'll have you know, this went on without my knowledge or consent." Gerald stated.

    "I know."

The thing was, Raul did believe Gerald. Proof lied in the archers first attacks, when Fuchsia had been present. Gerald loved his daughter, even more than she loved herself. If he had been an accomplice of Del Nico, then Fuchsia would have been no where near him when the attack began. As for the archers being dressed as waiters, there most likely had been several third parties between Gerald and the hiring agency. A properly planned infiltration wouldn't have been too difficult.

As Raul made his way back to the ballroom, he spotted two guards handling a corpse of a waiter. It looked like the archer he'd spared had ended up dead after all. Raul might have shown him mercy, but Gerald hadn't been in the mood to.

Raul returned to the party, which was still in full swing. A few heads turned, and a few eyebrows were lifted, but nothing stood too out to them. Thanks to Raul's black attire, the blood on his coat wasn't noticeable, unless one took a closer look. His eyes browsed the guests, looking for Del Nico, and there he was, dancing with his date, who was visibly uncomfortable with his hands on her. He must have been very confident that his plan would work if he had the guts to make a move of Raul's woman.

Calmly, Raul walked to them. Del Nico, who was facing the direction he was coming from, let out a shocked, and highly embarrassing yelp. Raul noticed how Karla let her head fall backwards, probably to take a good look at Del Nico, before turning to face him. He stopped watching her, and faced Del Nico squarely, as he reached them.

    "You won't be alive by morning." He said simply, then signaled that Karla follow him.

Karla trailed Raul as he left the ball, but before they could leave, she swiped a glass from a waiter's tray. She didn't drink it, rather she held the glass straight so the drink wouldn't pour, and entered the car. The driver pulled away from the Bernardo triplex and began the journey back to the Valdezian Headquarters. From the corner of her eye, Karla spied Raul taking out his phone and dialing a number.

Once the number picked up, he commanded, "Place a bounty of $1 million on Del Nico of Cannibals' head, for anyone who can kill him before morning."

    "Got it Lord."  She heard someone say.

After cutting the call, Raul leaned into the seat, and sighed. The pain in his arm wasn't letting him forget his injury. He would have to bear it till he reached the HQ, where he could get first aid. A light touch caressed his lower arm.

    "Let me help." Karla said softly. 

Not looking up at him, or waiting for his reply, she poured the alcoholic content of the glass she'd been holding on his injury. He jerked his arm, due to the sting it caused, but Karla held his arm in place. Next she reached into her purse, and brought out a clean white handkerchief. She proceeded to tie it round his injury.

    "It should help with the bleeding."

He didn't understand why, but as he watched Karla turn away and gaze at the passing scenery through the window, his heart leaped. It had been so long since his heart had done that, he'd almost forgotten it could happen. Why had his heart jumped now? Why did he feel like genuinely smiling? It didn't matter of course. This sensation would probably never repeat itself.

Or would it?

TEASER: KARLA COOKS FOR RAUL.