A Little Big Surprise

Chapter 24 ~Part Four~

The club was alive at this time of night. Demons came out to play and angels looked away in shame. Nikita didn't care about that. All that mattered to her in this moment was the stage. Here she didn't have to look at the faces of all the patrons staring at her; the light blinded her anyway. The cold steel of the pole was soft underneath her hand and she spun slowly before catching the beat to her next song. Vicetone, a favorite. Her eyes fluttered closed and she went to work, climbing the pole as if born to do so and putting on a show. There was no hesitation, no mistake. Those had consequences. Bare skin made the work easy so she wore the bare minimum. A sparkly bikini type that connected with the flimsiest strips of fabric used more for allure than actual function. Unlike the other girls she wore no heels, her master finding that she moved swifter without them. It didn't matter. Not long into the song there was already a group flocking to the front of the stage. Now Nikita could see them. Disgusting, sweaty, drunken idiots waving soiled money in the air as if she could simply pluck it from their hands six feet above them. With an undetectable sigh she slid down Scorpio style and allowed them to tuck the twenties into whatever crevice they could. Now it was time to mark her prey. 

Dismounting with a cartwheel she began to take whatever money was left, stopping in front of a particularly strong smelling man. Their eyes met and the silent signal was given and confirmed with the crisp hundred he placed in her cleavage. Without looking at another man she left the stage not having to check to see if he was following her. All the way to her 'dressing room' he walked, and was even nice enough to close and lock the door behind him. The money was barely out of her hands when his own were trying to snake underneath her top.

     Her voice was controlled as she stopped them "Allons-nous prendre notre temps?"

Shall we take our time?

The fool only grunted in response as the ever tiny Nikita turned in his arms and drove him back into a round love seat perfect for what he thought they would be doing together. She stepped back and began to take off what little clothing she had on with a cold indifference, eyes glinting with the slightest sign of emotion as she heard his breath stop. If there was anything she knew it was that she was beautiful. But beauty was a sin, didn't they know? He fumbled with his belt mumbling something stupid in French, his eyes never leaving her frame. When he was finally finished Nikita crawled into his lap and wrapped her slim arms around his thick neck before tracing her lips up to his ear

     "Je suis assez cher." She whispered, pushing him onto his back.

I am quite expensive.

     He grinned and dug his finger into her hips, grinding his hardened self against her thigh "Je peux payer"

I can pay.

That was all she needed to hear.

Her left hand slammed against his mouth just as her right came down hard into his chest, the knife there plunging deep into his heart and spraying blood over the both of them. The slightest shock came into his hazed eyes just before they rolled back. He never even struggled. Nikita closed his eyes gently, the least she could do as she slid the knife out of his chest and stood once more. She paid no mind as the removal squad came in, fifteen minutes exactly, to drag his body out. Instead she looked through his wallet. Credit cards, at least fifteen hundred cash, and some dumb rewards cards. All in all not her worst night, but not her best. The last thing she found in the old leather wallet was a tiny picture of three people; A woman, a baby boy in her arms, and another boy standing at her side. A twinge shot through her chest while she stared at the picture. She wondered if his wife would come looking for him or if she would simply move on. Did she think that as she straightened his tie tonight that he would never come home? Did he kiss her goodnight or leave with a grumbled I love you? Did he hug his children? 

Too caught up in her thoughts she didn't notice Luka and her aunt Zasha enter the room.

     "Well look at this mess." Zasha huffed and set her hand on the slabs she called hips "You couldn't have been more neat Nikita?"

Nikita didn't answer. Only tucked the picture away in her special box and turned to Luka. His eyes were calm as he took the wallet from her and looked through it, nodding as he went over the treasures. When he was finished he set a hand on Nikita's head and rubbed it almost gently, making her eyes close.

     "She did well Zash. The mess isn't important." Luka grinned in delight at watching Nikita strain toward his hand, just like he had taught her. "Now, would you get out of here?"

Both women froze and Nikita's eyes opened immediately. They knew what he meant. His free hand came up to her collar bone, a finger tracing a clean line through all the blood. Zasha looked away and gave a soft 'of course' before she turned to leave, shutting the door behind her. Nikita shuddered and looked down before her brain seemed to short circuit and she went numb. A perfect doll. Quiet and pliable. Covered in gore. Exactly what Luka wanted. 

The memory was interrupted all in a frantic blur. Aria was now atop of Dean and her tiny hands wrapped around his throat and choking him. Sam and Castiel were trying to coax her out of whatever trance she was in, their words not making any sense in the commotion. Why weren't they making sense!? Her breathing was speeding up and tears were blurring her vision. But she could see Dean. His face wasn't angry or hurt, it was understanding. Those green eyes cradled her in imaginary warmth as his hands came up to her own and he nodded.

     "It's gonna be okay Aria," he promised entwining his hands with hers "I got you baby. I'm here."

Realizing what she was doing Aria gasped and loosened her grip, seeing the little marks where her nails dug in. She couldn't even speak clearly. It was all sobs and blubbered sorrys as Dean sat up and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly as she screamed and cried for god knows what; she kept switching from English to French, to Russian. But Castiel knew what she cried for.

She cried out to be saved. She cried out to die. She cried out for forgiveness. She cried out..to fade away. To never exist.

Any angel, not just the awake ones like Castiel, would weep for her very soul.

~End of part four~

I hope you guys missed me! And if it seems I put a lot of music up with the chapters lately its because these songs inspired said chapters! Enjoy!