Vixen

The morning was dark and overcast. The rain pattered lightly on the roof, not much, but just enough to create a gentle hum.

The house was cool and dark. The cat slept soundly in her basket by the computer. Last night’s dirty dishes still lay in the sink. Shoes littered the area by the front door. An umbrella sat drying against the wall. Everything was silent and calm. Then somewhere in the house an alarm went off.

Karina sat bolt upright in her bed and quickly hit the “off” button. She ran her fingers through the tangled mess of honey-brown hair that drifted down her back. Behind her, Tristan sat up.

“I thought you told me you didn’t have to go to work today,” he said.

“I don’t,” Karina replied. “I must have forgotten to turn off the alarm.”

“No matter, we can still go back to sleep.”

Tristan lay back on the pillow and pulled Karina into his arms. She put her head on his chest and closed her eyes again, but couldn’t get back to sleep. She was too busy thinking about her last hit. A man had been murdered and it had been her job to catch and destroy the killer.

She had caught him alright, and killed him. That was one of the most terrifying nights of her life.

She had followed the man into a packing house where he attacked her.

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He came out of the shadows. It was completely unexpected. He must have known she was following him. He held a gun to her head and led her to a small, windowless room and locked her in. She had remained in there for hours until finally, she managed to break down the door and escape. She had left the building as quickly as possible and returned to her worried partner.

“He’s gone. I lost track of him. I’m sorry V.”

“It’s ok Siren.”

She had grabbed a knife and a decent-sized handgun and run after the killer. She had found him at the subway station trying to catch a train to the other side of Berlin. She almost had him, but he saw her in the reflection of the train car and turned on her, pulling his gun. He fired. Twice.

The first shot missed wide right, plunging into the concrete wall of the station. The second buried itself in her left thigh. She fell to the ground behind a turnstile and opened fire. Within the next four minutes, he was dead and she had passed out from exhaustion and loss of blood. Luckily, no bystanders were injured. Only the murderer was dead. Victory.

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Unfortunately for Karina, a gunshot wound to the thigh was not easily hidden from her friend, Tristan. He had rushed to the hospital immediately to see her and vowed to take care of her until she was fully healed. Karina actually thought it was sweet how he fussed over her and muttered countless times that her job was too dangerous. As far as he was concerned, she was nothing more than an international agent sent out to bring in criminals. If only he knew.

Now, two weeks later, Karina was lying in bed with Tristan, her boyfriend and love of her life. Over the period of her convalescence, they had grown closer and he had finally asked her to be his girlfriend. She was overjoyed, but also frightened for his safety at the same time. She had to be careful and not risk her enemies finding out his identity. She could not risk losing him. It was comforting to lay there with him, wrapped in his warm, safe arms. However, as she thought about her previous hit, a shudder raked down her spine.

Tristan, who had not fallen asleep either, felt her shake.

“Karina? What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?”

“What? Oh, no. I was just thinking.”

“About your job?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking about how even a simple day’s work could put both you and Lee into danger. If my enemies ever found out who either of you are, they could use that against me. They would know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or her.”

Tristan sat up and put his arms back around her.

“You don’t have to worry about Lee,” he said. “She’s smart enough to take care of herself.”

Lee, Karina’s older sister, was one of only two people who knew what Karina actually did. She was sort of an intelligence person. She could tell you anything about anybody, right down to the softness of toothbrush they preferred. Tristan was probably right. Lee knew how to take care of herself.

“Yes, but what about you?” Karina asked.

Tristan thought for a moment.

“Well, you could worry about me, but it’s not likely that I would ever be kidnapped.”

Karina lay back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“It’s more likely than you think.”

The clock in the kitchen began to chime seven o’clock and Karina slid out of bed. Tristan looked after her.

“Where are you going?”

“I want some hot chocolate.”

“I’m coming.”

Tristan jumped out of bed and grabbed his robe, which lay on the chair by the bureau.

When he walked into the kitchen, Karina presented him with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He took a quick sip and set the mug on the table behind him. Karina set her mug down as well and Tristan trapped her in his arms from behind. He lowered his head until she could feel his warm breath at her ear.

“I know what you are thinking,” he whispered. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know, but it scares me so much,” she whispered back.

Tears gathered in Karina’s eyes as Tristan turned her around to face him. He tipped her chin up so he was looking into her eyes.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to,” he replied softly.

Tristan puller her closer and let her sob into his shoulder. He led her to the sofa and handed her the mug. He held her close and let her relax against him until she had stopped crying.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“A little.”

She smiled at him and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.”

Tristan’s face cracked into a grin.

“Wait for me…”