FAE
My phone goes off with a loud ding; I gulp as the room falls silent. Every one of the guys turns towards me, but no one speaks. No one needs to. We all know what that sound means. My stomach twists as I stare at the floor, running through what they want from me today.
I hate that they still have this much control over me. I hate that they always will. I hate that The Company’s main currency is blood. Blood money. Blood sacrifices. Blood deaths. You best believe that if it has blood in front of it, it belongs to them somehow. Don’t even get me started on genetics. Once you’re in, you’re in and only death ends your contract.
It’s why I’m slightly grateful my line ends with me. The only thing that bothers me is that it’s The Company’s choice, not mine. I’ve asked Felix not to reproduce, but he doesn’t understand. How can he? Felix grew up with luxuries I was never afforded. Whilst he went to camp, I was dragged down into a crypt and forced to free-bleed my cycle every month. Father made him his heir and me his sacrifice. There’s not a chance in hell a daughter of mine will go through that.
I grit my teeth and shake my head, pushing the memory away before forcing myself to move. I pull my phone out of my grey Nike tracksuit bottoms and read the text.
Secure message:
Target: Charles Langford: terminate
Location: Wivenhoe Hotel
Deadline: 24 hours
Failure is not survivable.
Sighing, I roll my eyes. This is just what I needed. Father must have been notified that my car has moved and decided I’m up to the challenge of working again. At least I had three weeks off… so there’s that.
Father is a complicated man. I will never pretend I understand him or his contradictions. For eighteen years, he protected my virginity like a dictator, guarded my freedom like a dragon, and only let me associate with Felix before throwing it all away when he signed me up for university. And now, it seems he has given me space to grieve a friend when he specifically told me that having weaknesses is what separates ‘normal’ people from The Company.
“What does it say?” Victor asks, his one green eye and one brown eye burning into the side of my face.
I pass my phone to him and he reads it over before passing it to his right, letting it make its way around the group. Their faces are a mixture of fear, indifference, and frustration. Felix hates me working because he slips into big-brother protective mode. Roman hates me working and I still can’t work out why. Victor and Atlas are indifferent; and Riggs… well, Riggs is the only person who ever believes I can do it.
Maybe it’s because Riggs and I have shared the greatest number of classes together. Maybe it’s because he knows what I’m capable of. Or maybe he’s just not an overbearing arsehole. The thing is, Riggs may be the best Raven we’ve had in the Company in generations, but I am the best Swallow.
Swallows may have been popularised by the KGB during the Cold War, but it was The Company who did it first. For over a thousand years, England has been the birthplace of Swallows and their male counterparts, the Ravens. As spies, we are sent to extract information from powerful people through any means necessary. For Swallows in particular, this is usually through sex, temptation, or manipulation.
Normal people go to university to study business or sports. Me? I learnt how to read body language, how to take a man apart piece by piece, how to track a target without being seen, or worse, fuck a man using his darkest desires. The only upside to the training is that no man can manipulate or break me. I play them at their own game. And when they are finally falling apart, I finish it with a small cut to the jugular and an innocent expression on my face.
Ugh. Even thinking about them puts me in a foul mood.
Another obnoxious ding echoes around the cave and my head jerks up. My eyes land directly on Roman, who is staring back at me with an indifferent look. He pulls his phone out of his tailored black suit trousers and reads it out loud.
“Target: Charles Langford. Assist Swallow 264 in the termination. Location: Wivenhoe Hotel.” He looks up, a small smile spreading across his face. “Looks like we’re partners, Tink.”
“Why the fuck do I need to go with a weapons lead into a job?” I muse aloud.
“Maybe it’s just to see how you two work together as a team?” Atlas asks.
“No, that makes no sense. The whole point of a Swallow is independent intelligence. As the Ravens, we are the ones who work as a team. It’s why we each have a specialist.” Riggs points to me and continues, “Fae is our team in one. Why the fuck is she being sent with backup unless…”
“You think they want to set them up?” Felix’s teeth grind at the prospect.
“Not a set-up per se, but maybe it’s more dangerous than her usual target,” Riggs shrugs.
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it, Felix. I just have to do it. When are you going to understand that I am just as capable as you are? We’ve both done the same amount of training. I am sick of you undermining my skill set,” I snap.
“It is not like that and you know it. If I were on the frontline dealing with dangerous men, you would be worried as well, Fae. Do not pretend otherwise,” he snaps back.
“Okayyyy, twinnies, let’s not get our knickers in a twist,” Riggs teases as Felix and I stare daggers at each other. “This is a good thing, Felix. At least if it is dangerous, she is going with the best of us.”
“Are you complimenting me?” Roman asks, showing no outward sign of emotion.