Hurricane Heart

Arjan

I was on my feet before I knew what was going on, my gun gripped too tightly in my hands. The woman under the lamp just chuckled, slinking forward, a great, black cat prowling through the night, eyes never flickering from her prey. She belonged here.

She was a pretty, yet harsh woman, with dark toffee coloured hair, cut so that it just about reached her shoulders and spiked with many layers. Her skin was a deep, bronze tan and her narrow, slanted eyes were a piercing green. Her lips were thin, pursed like vipers, and her sharp nose was a little pointed at the end.

‘How long were you standing there?’ I demanded, my hands shaking with the weight of the monster that I held in them. That monster was going to strike again, most likely at this woman, and it was going to hurt her. I almost wanted her to see sense and take flight before I united with the monster; a dark, evil man, possessed by power.

Because she was just a woman. She was harsh and she was powerful and her eyes glinted with a mysterious terror, but she was still a young girl, no more than a couple of years older than me, with friends and parents and possibly brothers and sisters and maybe even children.

Her precisely plucked eyebrows lifted up. ‘A while,’ she replied carefully, her thin yet glossy lips parting to reveal a small but almost artificially white smile.

It suddenly dawned on me why I had developed an even bigger conscience than usual about shooting her, albeit only with a stun gun.

The black leather jacket and the short dress and the lace-up boots reminded me of one person alone. But, so much more than that, it was the way her face twisted into a smile, so sexy but so evil underneath; the way she spoke with a foreign accent—not German, for sure, but beyond that I did not know; the way her eyes were so cold, but they burned with a sort of frozen fire; a heat that was within her eternally; the power and presence that she possessed, portrayed by the fire eyes, but backed up by every thread of her character.

She was Hurricane impersonated. Aside from their differing looks, she was so much like the girl I thought I loved that I was enthralled by her dark, sexy, dangerous demeanour, rendered powerless by her very eyes.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked. Even I hadn’t expected the words to slip from my mouth.

The smile, supposedly sweet, but deadly in reality, returned.

‘Elize,’ she told me calmly. She didn’t ask why I had posed the question and didn’t refuse to answer. She was already one step above Hurricane in that she had at least provided me with a believable, human name, though I of course had no proof that it was her real identity.

She began to move, slinking to the side, and again, as though she was trying to circle the bench that I stood paralysed beside. It again reminded me of the predator stalking her prey.

I followed her, moving my body and head so that she was always directly in front of me. She seemed totally unfazed by the gun that I held, even though hers was still in her pocket. Only when I looked, however, did I realise that I no longer held it in front of me, ready to use, but dropped limply to my side. I could still fire it quickly enough though, if I needed to.

‘What do you want with me?’ I asked, my voice husky in the silent park.

That glint in her fire eyes was back again. ‘Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, dear Secret.’

She was closer to me without warning, her hand gently caressing my chest as she looked up through dark eyelashes, and then stealing backwards before I could even blink. She was so beautiful and so powerful, but I dared not fall for her trap. Men were so seducible, and Elize knew that far too well.

‘Come with me, and I won’t hurt you,' she whispered. 'So many of the people out here tonight have guns, but I said all along that a fight was not what you wanted.’

She was entirely right, but that didn’t change things. Nevertheless, for now I could do a ‘Hurricane.’ I could play along with her, feign innocence, break her heart when it was too late. Maybe even abandon her to die.

No. I wasn’t like that.

‘Where do you want me to go?’ I asked, my voice low in the stillness.

‘Where those nasty Dreamers can’t hurt you,’ Elize replied, her deep, olive green eyes still sparkling. ‘I can see your heart, and I know you don’t believe them. And I don’t believe them either. They’re all liars, my darling Secret.’

I was about to defend them, instinctively about to reply with ‘no, not all of them,’ but then I hesitated. Yes, they were all liars. As recently as this morning, I would have defended Hurricane from a person like Elize, but she had sold herself out, and there was nothing left to defend. Unfortunately, everything everyone said about her was true.

‘How do I know that you’re not going to hurt me too?’ I asked softly, looking at her as she stood there, so close to me, her eyes never moving from mine.

‘Because you’re mine, Secret,’ she whispered huskily, her lips once again moving towards me. ‘And I want something from you. I will prowl into every thought and every memory and every dream that riddles your brain. And I can give you something in return for everything you tell me.’ The hand that gently but sexily caressed the length of my arm and the lips that parted ever so slightly suggested what the thing she would give in return could be.

Now I had a choice. Of course I didn’t like the sound of following the Soulless—at least three of them had tried to kill or at the very least hurt me this evening, but were the Dreamers really any better? From the moment I’d heard of them, it had been drilled into my brain that the Soulless were the enemies. But the Dreamers were just as bad. They’d attempted to shoot me; they’d locked me up; they’d hurt me both physically and emotionally. What could a Soulless do that was any worse than everything I had been through with Hurricane?

‘I want to know what it is you want from me,’ I said, remaining true to my beliefs, but also allowing an element of romantic seduction to shine through. Hopefully, she would fall for it. Although, to be honest, I had no idea whether I was falling for her or not. I didn’t want to be, but it was undeniable that she was so beautiful, and so dangerous.

‘Ah, my dear Secret,’ she said, still in a low undertone in the quiet night, ‘I want you on behalf of all my people. I want you to do something that no one has ever been able to do for me; not even those closest to the girl you love.’

‘I don’t love anyone,’ I growled, ‘not anymore.’ The words hurt, but they were no lie. Hurricane had betrayed me. She deserved no more love than she already received.

But Elize’s words also intrigued me.

‘Maybe that is good,’ Elize said. ‘You know much about Hurricane, am I right? But you don’t like her.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She abandoned me.’ I could be falling right into a trap as we spoke, but what did I owe the Dreamers? I was fighting for myself now. I would side with whoever gave me the best deal.

‘And if I were to give you a little...persuasion,’ Elize continued softly, ‘you would tell me all you know about her. You may even know more about her than the last man we tried to interrogate on her; her father.’

I didn’t understand the reference to Hurricane’s father; a man I had always heard was either dead or otherwise missing; but I saw how the Soulless wanted to bring the Dreamers down. And, whilst I had little clue of Hurricane’s position within the Dreamers, she was evidently well respected, and powerful enough so that, if she was brought down, many of them would be.

Could I do that? I could tell Elize about the entrance into the Hanover base, or one of the codes for one of the outbuildings, or their names and identities (whilst I didn’t know Hurricane’s real name still—probably a precaution put in place if anything like this ever happened, it seemed that the Soulless had become quite used to calling her by her nickname). But that would mean innocent lives. I didn’t like any of the Dreamers that I had met (although I thought I had) but I couldn’t condemn them like that. I wasn’t Hurricane. I was better than her. It was moments like these that defined who we really were. And I would never stoop that low.

I had been fighting the Soulless all night. I had wounded people, and I had allowed an innocent civilian to get shot, almost on my behalf. The one time I had seen a strand of good within Hurricane was when she revealed the remorse she felt after Felix’s death. And if there was one thing I wanted to take from her, it was this: I would never let anyone die in vain. I did not know the woman who had been shot, and it was likely that we would never meet again, but I wasn’t going to let her die for no good reason. If I gave in now, then she had died in vain.

I was going to fight.

This decision was so sudden, and so unprecedented even by me, that Elize’s eyes were still enthralled in mine, her hands on my shoulders, her long, painted nails caressing my body.

So that was why she did not notice how I redrew my gun.

At this close contact, I pointed it right into the pit of her stomach and fired.

Elize let out a sudden gasp; a noise so shocked that it couldn’t even form itself into a scream. Her hands released from my shoulders as she staggered backwards, nearly falling, eyes wide and startled, filling up with anger and pain as every second passed.

I held the gun up, pointing it directly into her eyes. I couldn’t fight, but my aim was good. That was all I needed right now.

The electricity of the next two shots hit her on the bridge of her nose, right in between her eyes. She screamed this time and the time after, and collapsed to the ground, shuddering and convulsing, unconscious.

I turned to the left, no time to lose, ready to run down the brick path back the way I’d come into the park.

I had not taken one step when I froze.

Standing, leaning almost casually against the trunk of the nearest tree that lined the path, mild interest in her eyes, was another woman.

In my astonishment, I momentarily forgot the words that were meant to be used in this circumstance. But when I remembered, it was both the most beautiful and the ugliest word that my ears could comprehend.

‘Hurricane,’ I said. I didn’t shout it, and I was unsure what emotion I felt as I spoke it. I just said the word, calmly and clearly, loud enough for her to hear from the ten metres or so that she stood away from me.

And then I ran to her.

As I got within touching distance of her, finally sure that it really, truly was her, she began to speak my name. She barely got over the first syllable, however, before I had slammed her up against the tree that she had moved a little away from. Her shoulders, forced by my hands, were shoved into the rough bark, and I heard the thud as her head collided with the wood. I held her there, digging my nails deeper into her skin, my eyes overflowing with fury.

‘You abandoned me!’ I snarled, pressing down on her harder and harder. ‘You betrayed me, you left me to die! And then you have the fucking nerve to just show up here now!’

It was only after several seconds that I realised how she was not fighting back. Knowing her, she could have had her gun out by now if she wanted. Any other time, she would have most certainly resisted, refusing to be pushed anywhere without a considerable fight. But now, there was nothing. No fight. No resistance. No anger.

I saw it in her eyes. Emotion; and not good emotion. Sadness, fear, guilt. Guilt the most poignant of them all.

‘You left without a trace,’ I hissed, as though I had not made things clear enough already.

And then she crumbled.

‘Arjan!’ she cried out, sheer despondence in her voice, shocking me. ‘Oh God Arjan, I’m sorry!’

Only then did my hands begin to shake under the weight of what I was doing to her. Shocked at what my vicious claws were so easily capable of doing, I released her shoulders, and she fell forwards slightly, breathing out, and coming back to life in my eyes.

‘You left,’ I said, but it was softer this time, with less resentment.

‘I did,’ she said like it was a confirmation. ‘And I admit I did it wrong this time.’ I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Hurricane was admitting defeat. She was apologising. ‘But I came back.’

I stumbled backwards slightly, shocked almost senseless.

‘You...came back,’ I repeated, trying to comprehend the words. ‘You came back. You did. Thank you.’

She looked immensely relieved at my sort of forgiveness—though I was far from getting over this—and put her hands up to her face.

‘I regretted it as soon as I left,’ she continued, ‘but it was the Master’s orders. He told me to come back, and I couldn’t just disobey. You don’t want to get exiled from the Dreamers, Arjan. That’s when you really become nothing.’

Her words stung me. They were little needles of pain in my side. Unfortunately, it was true. I had turned a blind eye on what was truly good before in my life. When the police were throwing an innocent man in jail for talking about a dream or drawing a picture, I could have stood up and said something, as anyone in this shameful world could. But I didn’t. That wasn’t cowardice; that was self-preservation. And that was all Hurricane was doing now. She was following orders and trying to stay alive. Who wouldn’t?

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, looking at my hands as though I couldn’t believe how I’d just hurt her.

‘Don’t be,’ she said, ‘you’ve been amazing tonight. How many Soulless have you avoided so far?’

I shrugged. ‘More than I can count.’

‘That’s incredible,’ she muttered.

There was a more pressing matter at hand right now, however. ‘How long have you been standing here? Were you watching me with Elize?’ I could feel the anger bubbling again. ‘At what point were you going to intervene?’

‘I knew you would do the right thing,’ she said, irritatingly vaguely. ‘You’re not quite so easily seducible.’

I felt ashamed for how easily I’d almost fallen underneath Elize’s influence. ‘It certainly wasn’t too hard for her.’

Hurricane’s eyes glinted at that moment, reminding me way too much of Elize—Elize, who was lying on the floor somewhere behind me, unconscious for now, but not for much longer.

‘You did it, though,’ she reminded me. ‘That’s in the past now. And I need to go.’

Not for the first time, I was unable to keep up with her capricious train of thought.

‘You what?’ I repeated. Without waiting for an answer from me, Hurricane actually had the nerve to turn and prepare to walk away. I grabbed her wrist as she made to disappear, wrenching her round so that she had no choice but to look me in the eye. Once again, she barely resisted.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I demanded, far from being over my anger, whatever pitiful, guilty looks she gave me. ‘After everything that’s just happened, after everything you owe me, you think you’re just going to leave?’

She sunk back, suddenly so much a shadow of the Hurricane I once knew that it hurt just to look at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But I’ve got to go. The Dreamers are coming. I have to sort a few things out.’

‘Then I’m coming with you,’ I said adamantly.

‘You can’t say that.’

‘You owe me.’

She sighed. ‘Look,’ she said decisively, ‘if I tell you something, will you trust me a bit more?’

‘Depends what it is,’ I said with a casual shrug.

She had obviously planned for this, because it took less than a second for her to come up with an answer. Nevertheless, I couldn’t ignore the trace of agony I could see within her as she bound herself into this agreement.

‘I saw the question in your eyes back there with Elize,’ Hurricane said. ‘So what if I tell you what that bitch really meant when she mentioned my father? Then will you trust me a little more?’