Blood Oath (Ruby Rose/Ares fan fic)

Twenty-three

"What a nice surprise... it's me, Nira. I feel the same as I always have... just better dressed."

After changing my clothes we got into the car and Ares drove back to the heart of New York City while I remained silent. I'm not sure where we parked, somewhere in Manhattan of course, since I wasn't paying attention mulling things over in my head: I don't know how we'll get out of this mess and the worst thing is that I'm facing an 8 hours flight in Winston's private jet, lying to my boss' face... I'm really bad at lying, he'll notice it immediately when I begin to stutter... We got out of the car, walked into an elevator and there... Ares lost control, she shoved me against the elevator wall, holding me by my shoulders and shaking me hard. Then she put her hand on my jaw and forced me to look at her while tears ran down my cheeks to her fingers, her beautiful face got blurry. She shook me slowly once again while my head hit the wall behind me gently. She finally stopped, furious, whit her teeth clenched before mumbling:

"Nira... I'm here," she swallowed hard as if her throat hurt before whispering: "I'll protect you." Her kiss was soft and salty due to the tears that ran down my face but she tasted as sweet as always. I held onto her jacket and she kissed me again deeply... like she really cared about me, like I wasn't just a job and she didn't have to protect me because of that stupid Marker and the blood oath... at least that's what I'd like to believe.

"I don't want you getting hurt because of me," I whispered in response grazing her lips. Ares shook her head and loosened her grip while she smiled faintly rolling her eyes hard. Yes, I know that she's my bodyguard and this is her job and I know that she's really good at it but I truly meant it: I can't stand the idea of her being hurt. For the first time since we met I took the initiative: I shoved her against the other elevator wall after taking three steps forward and, digging my fingertips in her side, I kissed her thrusting my tongue into her mouth, biting her lips. Desperate, I pressed her harder against the wooden surface while my tongue fought with hers and I won for a change, tearing a moan from her throat, till the 'ding' of the elevator arriving to our floor interrupted us. I pulled away stepping back, blushing and fixing my clothes while the doors opened to a small lobby, but the Assassin stopped me cradling my face in her hands.

"Trust me," she whispered and I nodded not entirely convinced but there is nothing I can do about it: I'm in Ares' hands right now.

The lobby was an elegant wooden panelled area with mirrors, bronze side tables and a luxurious Persian carpet on the floor. Sitting at a beautiful antique table of rosewood was a young girl, impeccably dressed with a cream tailored suit, who pointed at a door after the Assassin gave her four shiny gold coins:

"Madame is waiting for you."

Madame Doucet is an attractive woman in her 50s, even if she looks like she's ten years younger, blonde and with blue eyes, that greeted my bodyguard with a smile and a warm handshake like they knew each other really well. I felt awkward and out of place immediately, not only because her living room looked like something out of the Architectural Digest magazine, decorated in cream and burgundy with a magnificent velvet couch as a centrepiece that I could never have because my cats would ruined it in one minute, but because she's the epitome of the elegance herself. Her manners are impeccable, her movements are graceful as if she were a dancer and her pink powder suit is tailored to perfection; her make-up is in on point, her gold jewels are discreet but good quality and she doesn't have a hair out of her Italian updo. Too polite to say anything, she just looked at me from head to toe and raised an eyebrow when she spotted my smurf on my T-shirt.

"Follow me, please, this way..."

So here I am, standing in front of an enormous mirror in a beautiful dressing-room painted in white with subtle hints of golden: the legs of the comfortable white armchair are golden, the beautiful crystal chandelier above my head is golden, the mirror frame is golden, the white carpet has some golden leaves printed and the bars of the clothes rack that are placed all around the room are made of golden steel. Some clothes are hanging from the racks, not too many so you can see clearly colours and shapes, and some more are piled up on shelves next to a large window with white curtains. Ares and Madame are talking about the jacket, I think my bodyguard has something very specific in mind, while I stare at mi reflection in awe. It's me... the same Nira as always... I didn't expect this. I thought the Assassin would force me to wear a suit like the ones she has in her wardrobe: a conservative suit, black or grey, with pure and simple lines without frills, and I thought that I'd feel uncomfortable disguised as an assistant of a funeral director... I'm not saying that Ares looks like one of those assistants, she looks amazing in her classic style, but I'd look weird wearing the same clothes. I'm more casual, I like colour and she seems to have taken it into account. I'm wearing pants made of dark blue fine wool that fit me like a glove, along with medium-heeled shoes to ensure that I don't trip and fall, and a light blue silk shirt, incredibly soft, with a neck bow.