Under the Veil

Part 7

The shadow moved in the dead of the night, his stealth suit devouring the sound of his movements, as Castle Caladan was being thoroughly searched in depth. Usually a hard place to get to, the private chambers of the duke and his family were now lacking in protection, the men having been sent directly into the chambers of the duchess and the heir of House Atreides. It was almost too easy, all of them standing there, only a few feet away from each other, protecting a sleeping target.

He tucked his daggers in between his fingers, four in each hand, meaning he would have to kill the nineth and last man quickly before he could alert his colleagues and call for backup. He knew one wrong move would get him killed, one mistake and he would fail his mission. But the shadow had never failed a mission, not once. If he had, he wouldn't be standing there, at the door of the Duchess of Caladan, heavily armed, from head to toe, ready to kill anyone who came in his way. He would kill the Valen, or die trying.

He kicked in the door, threw the daggers at the unprepared guards, missing zero of his eight targets. They fell to the ground, at the feet of their head of security who had failed his Duchess once that day already, and who wasn't going to fail again. The shadow reached the inside pocket of his reinforced jacket and seized the throwing dagger he kept there, against his heart. He was faster than Edward could register, faster than any human on Caladan. He grabbed his own weapon hanging from his belt, getting into a fighting stance, misreading the situation. The shadow hadn't come to fight.

He threw his weapon at Edward, aiming for the heart, but hitting the wall behind him. A petite dark-haired girl had pushed him out of the way. She looked disheveled and had armed herself with a hairbrush. The shadow would have laughed if he weren't so irritated. He quickly brought his hand to his sides and armed himself with two large pushing daggers, fully intending on getting a bull's eye this time. Edward grabbed Nesta by the arm and pulled her behind him as he touched the dot behind his ear and called for backup. The shadow saw red. He screamed his anger at the top of his lungs, startling Nesta, who moved further behind Edward. The assassin threw both his daggers carelessly at Edward, unconcerned about the maid.

But, as the blades were about to find their target, they were stopped by an unforeseeable variable in the shadow's plan. Sierra Atreides. Sierra Valen Atreides. She was standing before them, the daggers in her hands, glaring right back at the Harkonnen agent sent to kill her. She straightened up as she tilted her head to the side, swirling the weapons in her hands before discarding them to the ground. She looked as white as snow, her brown dampened hair had turned dark, and her eyes shone green. Nesta and Edward could see her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the assassin. She was still wearing the same dress from when she had saved Paul earlier that day, stains of blood were scattered here and there all over, but the fabric had frozen over and broke, and the once beautiful dress was now only rags. Her unnatural glowing eyes and the enraged look on her face sent chills down Nesta's spine.

"Your Grace..." she called weakly in a shaky whisper.

"Don't look, Nesta," she advised and watched in the mirror to make sure she complied. "Cover your ears."

Nesta was too stunned to even comprehend her mistress' directions, and Sierra had to nod to Edward through the reflection to make sure the housekeeper wouldn't witness anything more that would keep her awake at night. Edward turned around and brought Nesta to his chest, keeping her face against his shirt and his arms around her head. Once satisfied, Sierra's attention returned to the shadow, her face contorted with rage as her hostile glare called for blood.

She raised her arm, taking possession of the man before her into the palm of her hand. He gasped as he lost control of his body that was now levitating over the blood stained floor. As she moved her fingers so that they pointed down, the assassin fell to his knees, his body leaning backwards in a painful way.