The Australian heat hung thickly in the corners of the small dilapidated hut where Del waited patiently for her latest contract. Smuggler. That's what the client had called him, among many other more foul names, as he had dropped a small pouch of treasures into the woman's waiting hand. The Mortis name, although tainted by her mother, carried an assurance to it that encouraged most of her smarter clients to pay up front. Besides, most mortals had no desire to be caught in her serpentine stare more than once; they knew she was more than capable of finishing their "jobs". From a distance, Del heard the footsteps she'd been anticipating. In rhythm they walked closer and closer to the splintered wooden door, the ocean waves pushing against the sandy shore in full force as the moon shone authoritatively above. Her eyelids were gently shut, her body no more than a piece of the white-washed walls covered in fish netting, the footsteps had reached the steps now. A small exhale released from Del's body as her hands silently slid down to concealed twin daggers between her legs. [i]Creeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak[/i], the hinges wailed in protest as a taut, pale arm reached around the frame. The man was abnormally thin with dark, hollow eyes from what could only be hunger and fatigue. His bearded face had a long, recently clotted laceration stretching from his widow's peak to his neckline. Del could smell the semi-fresh wound even before her wicked eyes shot open. In a movement too quick for a mortal to perceive, Del's muscular arm was wrapped tightly around the fragile man's collar bone. She squeezed his back against her feminine body, the force constricting his exhausted lungs. Her sensual lips brushed against his ear as she whispered sinisterly, [color=peru]"Who else is hunting you, mortal?"[/color] The man made a few feeble attempts to loosen Del's grip on his body, but her wrists held firm. [color=lightgray]"I...can...ple, ca... brea..."[/color] Del rolled her eyes in annoyance before slightly releasing the man's chest. He choked on the musty air, grimy sweat rolling down his forehead, and faintly answered Del's question. [color=lightgray]"Emissaries. French emissaries."[/color] The man's sweat mingled with the salt of his tears as he began to plead, [color=lightgray]"Please, I have a family. I can give you information about the attack if you'll protect me from those..."[/color]

Before the smuggler could finish, Del clapped a hand over his filthy mouth. She held a warning finger against her throat as she pushed the man deep into the corner she had once been hiding in. He remained fearfully silent as Del crept towards the open door, listening intently. In an instant, her fingers curled around the hilts of her daggers, lodging them securely into the broad neck that had just stumbled into the open room. The bulky Frenchman fell to the floor, his limbs writhing in silent agony as the poison worked its way throughout his body. Del straddled the dying man, crouching so low to his chest that her thighs brushed against his leather armor. She stroked her silken finger across his jawline before ripping her daggers from his flesh. A final grunt and spasm wrecked through him as Del casually stood and turned to face her original, cowering target. She grabbed the man be his weathered shirt collar and pulled him forcefully to face her. [color=peru]"I'm not one for small talk, but you've peaked my interest. What attack, and be quick about it... your little 'friend' has dampened my mood."[/color] With a trembling tongue the man enlightened Del about an attack in France which has supposedly killed someone of great importance. Despite his cowardice, he had spitefully added that the culprit was suspected to be a were-bastard. At this sentiment, Del cocked her head slightly and leaned in towards him. Her breath was hot against his nose and lips as she muttered, [color=peru]"A were-bastard saved your life..."[/color] His breathing became shallow as his widened eyes met Del's hypnotic gaze, [color=peru]"and subsequently ended it."[/color] She pressed her lips fiercely to his own, delivering her adder's venom with a flick of her tongue. She threw him to the floor and spat on both dead bodies before sauntering out the door.

Del swam gracefully through the dim ocean waters, creatures below slinking away at her fearsome presence. The waves lapped over her arms and legs and her mind raced with the words of her latest victim. It wasn't uncommon for her kind to attack mortals, there were many who did without any promise of monetary reward, but to kill the leader of a well-known country. She dove below the surface of the water as the wind impeded her visibility from above. Her scaled skin shone beautifully in the moonlight as she raced around the cape of Africa and through the cold Atlantic waters. She would reach France's shoreline by dawn, but her thoughts were plagued by what and who could possibly be waiting to greet her. She somersaulted playfully and bubbles trailed in her wake. On the other hand, she thought, a rendezvous in Paris would be exhilarating!