My demons: Healing (book 3)

Too late

Ivy and ferns grew through the cracks of the old winding stone path which led directly to the enormous building. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently in the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood the delicate marble fountain and the soft gurgling of the clear water echoed in the surrounding silence. What was it with those so called gang leaders and their need to own such mansions was beyond Alex but she hadn't had time to ponder on it for too long.

It was odd for a door to be left open in this part of town, as a rule they were shut, locked and double bolted, but not these ones. She smirked at the stupidity of the resident as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

By the time she made it to the second floor, she had already managed to kill four of his men. The last one was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, clearly made aware of intruders when she was forced to use a gun instead of her dagger on one of her victims. 

His menacing eyes were a blazing red and his dark hood made the rest of his features indistinguishable. His hands were tightly closed around the cold surface of the metallic grey coloured revolver. He seemed to have no sense of humanity. Luckily, Alex didn't have any either. 

A single bullet penetrated his chest before he could even think of pulling the trigger and he fell on the carpet that was covering the wooden floors of the upstairs area.

Doors to what seemed to be the leader's office opened swiftly and a man in his fifties walked out.

He glanced down at the body as if it were a rug out of place, groaning at the blood that poured onto the white carpet. 

"Well look what you've done to the carpet, Alex" he said sternly, fixing her with a hard stare.

Alex shrugged and put away her gun. "I'm sure you can clean up the mess yourself."

He nodded before indicating to her to follow him back to his office.

"What happened, Alex? We're professionals... civilized," he sighed, sitting down on his leather chair.

She gazed back at him impassively, the composed intensity in her eyes reminding him of a wolf watching its prey. "Do I look civilized to you?"

He sighed again, shaking his head slightly. "What brings you here?"

Alex looked back at him, trying to feign disinterest, but well aware of where this conversation will end up going – rapidly downhill, to be precise. "O'Brien."

"We both want the same thing, Alex."

"I heavily doubt it," she replied, her voice arctic.

"She is a danger to all of us."

"Correction; she is a danger to you. She would leave you and your little gang alone if you hadn't started hunting her for no good reason. You brought this upon yourself, Edgar."

"Are you here to tell me to let her be?" he asked, a sarcastic smile plastered on his face. Alex wanted nothing more than to remove it with her dagger. 

"You are too late for that," she replied instead, enjoying the fear that grazed his features momentarily before his mask fell back into place.

"Claire O'Brien will come for you and you will do nothing, because you can't do anything. I came to say my goodbyes before your inevitable date with death herself," she said sternly, moving to shake the man's hand. 

He swallowed thickly before shaking her hand. "Are you scared of Miss O'Brien? I'm not," he said in a last faint attempt to mask his fear.

"But you should be," she replied before walking out. 

She had learned everything she needed to know.