E L E C T R A|COMPLETED|

Chapter Thirteen~Explosive Emotions

~Braden~

When I came to I realized two things. The first was that my head hurt like Hell and the second was that Electra had bested me...again. I groaned and pulled myself up from the floor while holding the side of my phone gingerly.
My phone was going off in my back pocket and I slowly brought it to my ear to answer it. "Yeah," I winced into my phone.
"Cross, why the hell haven't you been answerin' your phone?" Madden asked.
"I've been sick," I answered.
"Never mind that. The f*cking station blew up. That bitch killed at least thirty of our guys and the firefighters are pullin' out more bodies by the minute," Madden said with both anger and frustration. F*ck. Electra was on a killing spree.
"When?" I asked and felt my jaw clench.
"Just four hours ago. It was pretty late so there weren't as many people as usual in the station, but a lot of people are dead or not accounted for. Darby wants you down here, A.S.A.P." Madden ended the call and I placed my phone back into my pocket.
"What the hell are you doing, Electra?" I asked aloud while drawing out a heavy breath.

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~Electra~

"Electra," Bullseye whispered my name huskily. He handed me the binoculars and I peered down from the building to see Braden talking to a few other men. The large police station was smouldering now, yet flames still ate away at the blackened building.
The morning sun was just peeking up on the horizon and a lovely glow was cast around the buildings and streets. It made it easy to make out the displeased and irritated look across Braden's unshaven face.
"The man wearing the long black coat and blue shirt, I think that's him," Bullseye pointed out and I moved the binoculars to the man he had described.
"Him?" I asked with a small chuckle. The below-average height man with a receeding hairline didn't look the type to tangle with me. Not unless he had leverage, not unless he had something that would give him confidence, not unless he injected Agent Cross with some P-87 to hunt me down.
"He's the one who injected Agent Cross with the 87?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes. Reginald Darby. 46 years old. Unmarried. No children," Bullseye recited.
"Well then," I say and lower the binoculars from my eyes,"he will know soon enough what happens when you go poking at a monster."

The steady rise and fall of the man's body underneath his covers showed that he was fast asleep. Moonlight flowing in from the curtain-less window shined on his balding head as I walked silently to his bed.
I lifted my thigh-length dress to pull a dagger free from my lace garter and hover the long blade against his throat. The man woke with a start and his eyes grew wide with fright. He scrambled to sit up against the headboard and my blade stayed firm against his throat.
"You," he whispered.
"Me," I confirmed.
"You bait the trap and the fox will come," he stated and then I felt a pinch on my thigh. I looked down to see a syring sticking out from my thigh. I yanked the syringe out of my thigh and let it fall onto the ground.
"Careless," I muttered before I fell onto the floor.

Ugh, for some reason half of my chapter came up missing when I went to edit it. I forgot what I wrote so I sloppily attempted to end it from where it didn't delete. Sorry guys.