The music made her whole body vibrate and the lights would give an epileptic seizures, but Toren didn’t care, she was having fun. A fake ID got her booze and at least two guys had already hit on her. This is what she had missed. The freedom to do what she pleased without the annoying Branch monitoring her every move.
She was there for three hours before they noticed she was missing. Toren spotted them before they spotted her. She immersed herself in the crowd expertly maneuvering to not interrupt the dancers and draw attention to herself while still making a quick escape. She was almost free when her feet froze to the ground. Miguel. Toren whipped out her pocket knife and began to beat the ice with it. The ice was as hard as diamond.
“Toren, just come with us and save yourself some embarrassment.” Jared was leaning against the doorframe, his whole demeanor disapproving.
“Bugger off, Jared. You don’t know how to loosen up.” Toren snapped.
“Fine then. Sean, get her.”
“Wha…agh!” The ice melted as Sean lifted her and put her over his shoulder. Hard muscle pressed against her stomach, somewhat painfully, as he carried her out. “Put me down! Put me down! I could stab you in the back you know several times.”
“No you can’t. Fared took your knife.” Sean replied to her threat. Fared waved it in front of her as proof, but far enough back that she couldn’t snatch it away. Toren put up a few more weak threats and protests and then stopped with a gasp.
“Oh my god, Sean put me down now! We have to go back, back to the club. Stop, turn around.” She had that feeling again. With her memories back, she knew exactly what it was—that tickle at the back of her mind. She could sense when an Avenger was near and in what direction. She always could, it was one of the reasons the Grand Mage had sought her out for this little group.
“I’m not falling for that trick. I’m not stupid, Toren.”
“If you don’t put me down you big lummox, people are going to die!”
“I don’t think she’s trying to trick us, Sean.” Fared said as he tossed her the knife. Sean put her down and she dashed back the way they had come.
“Did anyone grab my stuff?” They all shook their heads. Of course not, she thought. She would have to fight with just her pocket knife and that was going to be interesting. At least she had back-up.
They barged back into the club just as the first scream rang out. The crowd fled for the exits away from the monster standing in the middle of the floor. It was a teenager probably stabbed to death over drugs or something like that. Its eyes roamed, searching for something. Sean moved in front of it and slashed down to split its head. The Avenger blocked the blow but otherwise ignored him. Both Miguel and Fared took a shot. The Avenger moved and dodged and paid them no mind. Then its gaze fell on Toren.
Toren slipped in behind it to stab it in the back. The monster turned and tackled her. Surprised at its level of intelligence, Toren dropped the knife and watched it skitter across the floor out of her reach. The thing pinned her down, its breath hot against her face. Other Avengers appeared keeping the others busy. That was impossible. Avengers never worked together unless under direction from a queen and there wasn’t any queen near; she would’ve sensed it!
“Assssasssssin.” It hissed. Toren kneed the creature futilely. Avengers didn’t feel pain like humans did so even hitting it in the groin was useless. She wouldn’t die here. Toren reached out to the knife across the room. It flew to her hand like a light saber to a Jedi. Toren jammed it into the Avenger’s skull wrenching it down and to the side causing the monster to disintegrate. Ash and dust coated her tongue, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. Jumping to her feet, Toren leaped to where Fared was ramming her heel into his foe’s neck. The Avenger fell and she stabbed it in the back. She moved on as it disintegrated. It wasn’t long before they dispatched the rest.
Toren grabbed a glass of water from the bar and rinsed out her mouth spitting the glob of debris into the sink. The clean-up crew was fixing the place up to look like nothing happened. Toren didn’t get the point of it all. Enough people had seen the thing that they couldn’t deny it. The thing that really bothered her though—that was the second Avenger to address her directly. They never did that. They didn’t have the intelligence for it; they weren’t even supposed to talk. That fact aside, why address only her? Why not go after any of the others? It was certainly a puzzle. Something was up, something bigger than what they had seen before.
Are you truly so naïve?
The glass dropped from her hand and shattered. It felt like she had just been stabbed in the heart. She doubled over in pain clutching her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. It was gone as quickly as it started. What the hell was that?

Toren’s handler was pacing as she reprimanded Toren for “recklessness” as she called it. Toren nodded and made all the right noises when she was supposed to, but she ignored Ms. Tanen preferring to concentrate on more pressing concerns. She had heard a voice, one distinctly different from her own, after the fight in the club. It was a voice she had heard before when she was young. The last time she heard it was the day she had been caught. That was also the first day she had ignored it. Her mind wandered back to that day, back through all the years, all the sleep cycles to the last day of true freedom.
It had rained earlier in the day, but only the clouds remained. Toren flattened herself against the thatched roof of the tavern on the square waiting for her target to show. A high noble was delivering sentence today on a mass murderer. After the murderer had been sentenced, Toren was to assassinate the noble. Lord Johnathan Linden was a corrupt greedy lord who overtaxed his people and someone was paying the Thieves’ Guild a lot of money to take him out.
Toren strung the short bow she used for long range targets and fitted an arrow. Linden stepped up onto the platform spreading his arms wide to welcome the crowd to the execution. She was tempted to take the shot now while he was such an easy target, but gold was on the line so she waited. The execution went smoothly; the executioner’s axe was sharp and quickly sliced through the murderer’s neck. Toren approved, but now she had work to do.
She adjusted her stance so she could get a better shot. She released and the string twanged. The arrow flew straight and true piercing Linden through the head instantly killing him. There was stunned silence and then chaos. Toren loved public assassinations; she could slip away hidden in the crowd and they wouldn’t be able to catch her.
Toren slid down the back side of the roof landing on the one story hut behind it and then to the dirty alley. She shouldered the bow and then turned to make her way to the cellar where the thieves made their home. But there was a problem. Two palace guards were at the mouth of the alley waiting for her. They couldn’t have possibly known she would be here unless…the job had been a set-up. The guards pointed at her and started her way. Not good.
She yanked open the door and sprinted into the tavern dodging patrons and tables with the guards on her heels. Outside, it was still chaos. Toren used the people as a living shield weaving in and out to confuse her pursuers. More guards had joined the chase. Toren ducked and dived using her knowledge of the city to her advantage. She led them through alleyways and onto main streets. She couldn’t get away from them.
You stupid girl! They’re herding you. Break through their lines.
It was that voice, the one that had saved her many times before, but it was wrong this time. To try and break through their lines was a sure jail sentence. She turned a corner and flattened herself against the wall. The guards ran past and Toren inched her way down the alley. She was almost home free.
“Ms. Night, we require your services.” Toren froze—at the other end of the alley stood the Grand Mage himself smiling at her.
Run!
This time she listened. Toren crouched to sprint out but a wall of guards formed blocking her path. Still no need to panic. She jumped up and kicked off the wall grabbing for the second story window, but the window only seemed to get higher beyond her reach. She hit the ground hard, but immediately scrambled to her feet. The Grand Mage was walking toward her now. She had to rush him, only to find her feet were frozen in place. The Grand Mage reached into a pouch by his side and pulled out some sort of sand. He weighed it in his hand and then threw it in her face. She coughed rubbing her eyes to clear them.  She couldn’t stand up anymore, couldn’t keep her eyes open. Someone caught her as she fell and all went black.

Sometime during her memories, Ms. Tanen had left and now her brothers were in the room watching her.
“Do you guys remember the day we became immortal?”
“Where’d that come from?” asked Sean.
“I was just thinking…” the alarm started wailing. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.” They rushed to grab their weapons then out to the garage. Her bike, polished and black, sat ready for her. She revved it and sped out the open door toward their destination.
Avengers were terrorizing people at the docks. Using her bike as a step-stool, Toren hoisted herself onto a stack of crates. The Avengers ran around the corner being herded by Sean and Fared. Jared was attending to the injured workers and Miguel was standing by to drop a large fireball on the small mob. The Avengers were right where they wanted them. Toren drew her gun and flipped off the safety.
Get down.
That voice again. Toren searched the surrounding area for any sign of trouble. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a large projectile headed her way. She jumped at the last moment, the crates bursting into giant splinters. The group of Avengers stopped now more worried about defending themselves against the wooden spears heading their way. Some were actually killed, disintegrating into dust and ash. Toren covered her head and hoped. Luckily, Miguel was watching. A shield surrounded her, the splinters bouncing harmlessly off the thin membrane. Toren breathed a sigh of relief, but now she had another problem. The Avengers attention was focused on her.
They rushed her, their scythe-like arms swinging heedless of their fellows. One of Miguel’s fireballs landed in the center of the group reducing the threat but not eliminating it. Toren let loose emptying two clips into the oncoming Avengers, but she was disoriented and some missed.
Enough of this.
Toren collapsed the pain overwhelming. Her whole body was throbbing; her head was going to explode. Her eyes turned to the color of dried blood and her voice rasped as if her throat had been burned. She stood straight, emanating power. One by one the Avengers froze and backed up afraid to come any closer.
“Die.” Her voice was not her own. It was the voice she had heard so often before protecting her, but this time that voice was filled with power. The Avengers shivered and then disintegrated unable to resist the order. “Ashes to ashes…” she whispered, herself once more, before fainting.

Her subconscious was trying to tell her what was going on. In her unconscious state, she dreamed, but her dream was a memory.
Toren’s wrists were shackled and the guards were dragging her into the tower of the Grand Mage. The Grand Mage stood in his ceremonial robes, his apprentice next to him. The apprentice examined her disbelief written on his face. The Grand Mage merely waved the guards away and offered her a seat. Toren glared at him.
“As I said before, we require your services, no; the world requires your services. Have you heard of Avengers?”
“They’re a fairy tale, a story parents tell their kids to scare ‘em.”
“Not so. Most of that ‘fairy tale’ as you say is true. Avengers really were created to prevent killing, but something has gone wrong. They are attacking innocent people and now must be stopped.”
“I’ve killed dozens of people and never had an Avenger come after me.”
“I know which is why I sought you out. It is difficult to kill an Avenger and we have already lost many men just trying to keep the creatures at bay. However, I have come up with a better solution. I am creating a group who will have all the traits necessary to kill the Avengers once and for all. I want you to be in it.”
“And why should I? I don’t see anything in this for me.”
“Of course. I offer immortality for starters. More importantly, I offer a pardon. You will not die or be charged for any death you have caused as long as you work to destroy the Avengers within the rules I set. What do you say? Your life for all the monsters in the world?”
Take it. You will only die if you don’t.
“I accept. What choice do I have?”
“Very good.” The cuffs around her wrists dropped to the floor. Toren rubbed the chaffed skin wary of this bargain she just made. “Follow me, but first, all weapons on the table please.”
Toren pulled knives and darts out from all over her body throwing them on the circular table the Grand Mage had indicated. The apprentice’s eyebrows rose appreciatively at the sheer number and selection she had at her disposal.
“What did I tell you, Miguel? She will not disappoint.”
Toren followed the two into an antechamber where three more men waited. Two were dressed in guard’s livery and one wore the badge of a healer. They each stood on a symbol, a rune, which told their profession—Sword, Bow and Arrow, Earth. The apprentice, Miguel, took his place on the rune meaning Nether, the place where magic comes from. Toren examined the last rune. It was simple, but also didn’t really point to any profession; the rune simply meant Blood and, for some reason, it made her very uneasy.
Still, she took her place and waited. The others gave her strange looks, but no one protested her being there, so the Grand Mage must have told them earlier. Toren couldn’t help but fidget and compare herself to them, however. They were all dressed impeccably with shined boots and not a thread out of place. Her clothes were scrounged rags patched a dozen times over and frayed at the edges caked with dust and dirt from the streets and sleeping in the filth of the cellar. Her hair was matted and unkempt raggedly chopped with dull scissors when it got too long. Putting on an air of bored confidence, Toren straightened and pointedly ignored the others to combat her discomfort—the first chance she got, she was gone.
The Grand Mage started the ritual. Lines etched into the floor glowed an incandescent red forming a pentagram of which each rune was a point. The light illuminated the entire room and yet they were still cast in shadow. Toren prepared to run, but found her body wouldn’t obey; her heartbeat accelerated, her breaths short and quick. Suddenly, the runes burst, pure light lifting her feet off the floor and infusing her with new life.
No!
Toren screamed, echoing the voice’s unheard protest. Her body was on fire, there was so much pain. Her features contorted briefly revealing the thing that lay deep within her for so long, but no one saw lost in the ritual as they were. Toren’s screams continued as she writhed held by the light consumed by her own darkness.
The ritual ended abruptly leaving each of them with only the runes burned on their right wrists except for her. Her arm throbbed painfully and spasms wracked her body for hours afterwards. Jared and the Grand Mage looked after her until she was back to normal. Unable to find any tangible reason for her reaction, it was soon forgotten. Miguel believed it was because of the taint on her soul from the deaths she had caused and still did, but Toren was beginning to think it was because of something else.