A part of her, that small part that remained capable of remorse, almost felt guilt. He'd been kind, had listened to her trauma without judgment, and she'd thanked him with a drink to the shirt and a very public insult. But it was just the distraction she needed, as she found herself approaching the event area once more. The target was leaving the stage, but it wasn't too late until he reached the cars. She reached into her bag, feeling the cool familiar grip of the handgun as her fingers curled around it. A feeling as close as she got to home, these days. The coven was an employer, uncaring even with the leader as her lover. The tools of her trade were the things she could rely on.
As she started to pull it out, the screams reached her ears. She removed the gun from her bag, took aim... and was immediately knocked to the side, onto the rough pavement beneath. She winced as she landed, then turned to face her assailant. That damn wolf. He looked completely different now that he'd transformed, but the scent was unmistakably him. A fool, giving away his pack's secrets, but a point against the Lycans was a point in the vampires' favour. For that, and for his earlier kindness, she didn't point her gun at him, even as it would have been easy. Instead, her eyes locked with his for a moment, not trusting him to offer the same gesture and prepared to defend herself if she had to.
Then a shot did fire, and it wasn't hers. She quickly slipped the gun back into her bag and turned her head to look. And there he was. The last face she wanted to see on one of her missions. Fucking Dimitris! A shitty shot, to be sure, but one fully poised to take her kill, then never stop gloating about how he'd finished the job Siran had flubbed. A cocky bastard with no regard for personal boundaries, far more deserving of a bullet in the brain than the actual Lycan looming over her. She wouldn't let it happen, refused to give him his way.
.