Tagged:
Charlotte Devereaux

Words:
1,009

Outfit:
Faded jeans, sneakers, and a black hoodie over a white tshirt.

Notes:
Damn I wrote too much. I expect only half the length in reply.

Axl Drake waited in the dark shadows of the tall columns surrounding St Peter's square. It was still daytime, early evening, and the location was very public. Axl supposed his latest client had a very high opinion of his or herself in order to choose such a grandiose location for the meeting, but they also had to know that there was enough shade for a vampire to be able to walk a fair way without fear of the sun. Why they had picked a daylight hour was soon made apparent as an elderly human male approached him, frowning as if trying to figure out if he'd got the right person. This was hardly the first time Axl had seen a human used as a middleman. They were great for anonymity and easily disposable. Half the time they didn't even know they were dealing with vampires because the client hadn't bothered to tell them.

"Axl Drake?" the man asked. Even in those few syllables it was clear that he had a very strong Italian accent. It wasn't unexpected, given that he was in Italy. But he presumed that the man had to speak at least some English. He'd been initially contacted in English, though text message in fact. His number was often given out by his contacts looking for work for him, ever since he had first gotten a cell phone, so that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that it had come from a blocked number, and most vampires weren't competent enough with technology to do that. Axl wondered which contact was going to claim credit for this one as he nodded in confirmation to the man's question.

"What was the location of your last job?" the man asked. A security question to confirm his identity; one that made Axl suspect that his newest client had either found him because of his last job, or had been in contact with his previous client. "Toronto, Canada," he replied with ease. That was specific enough, wasn't it? The old man seemed to accept it, because he fished around in his inside jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. It was likely, Axl thought, that the man didn't even know what was inside. He was just the messenger.

Taking the envelope, Axl tore open the top and found a few things inside. The first was a letter in clear computer font, very formal-looking. The first thing his eyes sought out was the name of his target: Peter Devereaux. He twitched in recognition, but the human was thankfully unobservant enough to not notice it. The target himself was unfamiliar to Axl, but he knew someone with that same last name. The vampire community was small enough that the chances of the Devereaux he knew and his target being either married or related was very high. He had first met Charlotte Devereaux in a club in America while after another target. That alone wouldn't have been enough to stop him from accepting the job. What did stop him was that just two days ago he had spotted her in Volterra. Whether or not she was a guard, he did not know, but it set off alarm bells in his head. This was one of those jobs that he was best staying clear of, simply because of Volturi link.

The other things in the envelope included a map which Axl did not bother to unfold just yet, and a photo of the target. Keeping a careful poker face, Axl looked back up at the man. "What about the money?" he asked. It was easy money, taking the down-payment for jobs he didn't even plan to take then killing the middleman. It struck him that that was another part of the genius in picking such a public spot. There were nuns and tourists flocking all over Saint Peter's Square so he didn't dare try anything, especially not while in Italy. There was also an irony in picking a location with the same name as his target. "You will do the job?" the old man asked, to which Axl nodded in reply. He was handed a second envelope, and he quickly checked the contents. Cash, in euro notes, and another slip of paper with the promise of much more to come. "I usually ask for fifty percent as a down-payment," he told the man. "Forty percent at least." But the man shook his head. "My employer will not bargain. You do the job, you get the money."

Axl bit his tongue for a moment, knowing that he'd never get the rest. But already he had more in his hands than most down-payments, so he nodded once more. "I'll do it." With that he pocketed both envelopes. "Good good, my employer will be happy." And with that the man bowed his head in farewell and left, presumably to go tell said employer than the job had been taken. Then Axl waited, needing the sun to go down before he could make his next move.

It was nearly midnight by the time his taxi reached Volterra. At first he had been tempted to turn off at Emma's house and stay there for a while, but Emma wasn't home and he needed to find out if this Charlotte really was connected to his target. A phone call to Jane during the drive had gotten him Charlotte's address, though he was sure he had pissed her off with his refusal to tell her why. They annoyed each other all the time, so it didn't bother him. After paying the driver, he got out of the taxi, acknowledged a patrolling guard who recognised him as a frequent visitor of Jane's, then walked the rest of the way to the location Jane had given him. He didn't know Charlotte well enough to know how she'd react to him, so he braced himself as he knocked on her door. Sure enough he heard footsteps inside drawing closer, and when she opened the door he quickly spoke first. "Do you know a Peter Devereaux?"