Cameo the Assassin

by Dawn McCullough-White

  “He was over near Jules.”

  She noticed the bruises on Lorelei’s throat, but there were so many other pressing matters that she simply left the two of them to whatever they were doing and moved back over to Jules.

  Opal’s rapier was lying on the ground a few yards from the assassin. She took it and slid down a small embankment coated with dead leaves. At the bottom, Opal was lying there, against a fallen tree. He looked like a bony, broken thing. His once-lovely cream-colored jacket was sort of dingy and covered over by brown leaves here and there.

  She dropped the sword when she saw him, turned over his body, and put her ear to his chest.

  A self-satisfied smile crept across his face, albeit weakly.

  Content that his heart was still beating, she lifted her face, but Opal closed his eye before she noticed.

  “Opal?” She shook his chin gently. “Opal wake up.”

  He didn’t move.

  Cameo checked his neck for bruising, then his arms, working her way down his chest looking for puncture marks anywhere.

  Through a half-closed eye, the dandy watched what she was doing, biting his lip to keep from making a sound. He slowly moved to touch her hair with his hand.

  She set her hand down on his wound, and his body arched, grimacing at the sudden pain.

  “I’m sorry.” Cameo was quickly staring down into his eye. “What a horrible awakening.”

  “You didn’t wake me,” he gasped and smiled at her.

  A look of realization inched across her face. “Oh, I see.”

  “I trust you’ll forgive me, my dear. I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

  “Well, it looks as if you got your comeuppance, doesn’t it?”

  “In spades.”

  The assassin focused on the wound again. “I think it’s infected.”

  “Can’t be. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh. How did you get over here anyhow?” She unwrapped the bandage Bel had put on the day before.

  Opal flinched as she worked on it. “Some walking, and some crawling.”

  She glanced up at the embankment. “And some falling?”

  “A bit.”

  She examined the wound, though she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, then began to wrap it back up with one of her shirts.

  He licked his lips nervously, “Not too tight this time.”

  “So what were you doing over here?”

  “Stabbing your prisoner,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, that explains why he’s half-dead.”

  “Can’t be; I hit him in an unimportant spot.”

  “Like the leg?” She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that his own leg wound was getting dangerously worse as the days passed, and if he wasn’t healed soon, the wound he’d taken would likely kill him.

  “Anyhow, he was killing Lorelei. What’s a dandy to do?”

  She smiled at him. It was going to be incredibly boring once Haffef killed him, which she expected would be coming as soon as he realized Ivy’s bones had been stolen from her, in a moment of complete stupidity.

  He studied her face for a moment. “Did you find the thing your master wanted?”

  “No,” her tone sobered. “I found the person who took it, but he’s a vampire, too.”

  His smile drooped.

  “I never met this vampire before, but he said that Haffef was his master as well.”

  “Who knew there were so many vampires running around,” he said.

  “You need that black duster. It’s too cold to be lying on the ground dressed like this. Is that back in your bag?”

  He nodded.

  “All right then.”

  He attempted to stand, but she stopped him. “What was it you said? Something like, forgive me, my dear?” Then she hoisted him up into her arms.

  Opal squirmed. “You aren’t taking me back out there like this.”

  Before he had the opportunity to hear her reply, he was already back with the rest of the group.

  “How humiliating,” Bel called to him.

  Cameo shook out his duster. It was covered in glass, but the wine that had spilled was now dry. “You can buy a new one later.”

  “Is there going to be a later?” he asked as she helped him out of his paisley jacket and into the black duster.

  “You need something to eat. I have a little food, but you and Kyrian will have to share.” She saw him looking up at her, trying to catch her eye, but she turned her attention to Kyrian.

  The lad was in desperate need of relocating from the wet mud to dry ground, and dry clothes. Taking note that Bel was currently involved with Lorelei, and both had separated themselves from the group, Cameo lifted Kyrian, moving him over next to Opal. Obviously she wasn’t going to get any help from Bel or the new girl.

  She located Bel’s shoulder pack, and as she rummaged through it for his old clothes, a ring and a necklace fell out of the crease in the pants. Curious, she dug down to the bottom of his bag and found a stash of jewels and money.

  “And to think that I paid to get Bel in that new outfit,” she scoffed. “And here he has all this loot.”

  Opal looked over at the ring that had fallen out. “That’s Lorelei’s, I think.”

  “What?”

  “It’s one of the baubles I took from Lorelei’s family before we were ambushed by assassins. Bel got my pack for me; perhaps it fell out of my things.”

  Cameo met his eye suspiciously.

  “Good heavens, Cameo. What could you be thinking?” Opal rolled onto his back and toyed with a brush in the canister of green paint.

  “Kyrian?” She tried to rouse him, then hoping he wasn’t playing the same game Opal had, she slid off his shirt, replaced it with a dry, somewhat foppish one, and did the same with his pants.

  The dandy glanced over at what she was doing. “Disgusting. Warn me when you plan on doing that.”

  “Why don’t you eat something? I have some food in my pack.”

  “How on Faetta do you expect me to eat when this is the picture painted in front of me?” Opal asked.

  “You need to regain your strength.”

  “Might as well be watching an operation,” he muttered.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she wrapped her wool cape under the lad’s body and over his shoulders. “He’s not that terrible naked.”

  Opal went through her bag. “You’re just saying that to upset me.”

  She sauntered over to where Jules was dangling from the tree.

  “You,” he hissed as he saw Cameo approaching him.

  “You woke up; that’s a good sign.”

  He watched her ripping Tomley’s shirt open and making some sort of bandage with it. “That thing has had a corpse in it for at least a day. You would be putting more bacteria on me then if you did nothing.”

  “I didn’t think of that.” She glanced over at the carriage and noticed the suitcases piled on top of it. A moment later she was on the carriage and throwing the suitcases off of it. She hauled two of them back over in Jules’ direction.

  Lorelei ran over. “Wait, that’s Claire’s!”

  Cameo was rifling through a woman’s gowns and undergarments.

  “Those are my sister’s things.”

  She looked up at the girl and handed the luggage to her.

  “Those are my sister’s things,” Jules mocked.

  Cameo stormed back over to her prisoner, and slammed her boot heel into his wound. “Shut up, Jules.”

  He whimpered.

  Cameo gave Jules a little push with her foot as she moved away from him, then she nonchalantly opened the second suitcase. Definitely a man’s this time. Very lovely lace shirt. She held it up, sizing it against herself, then went back for a third case. She met Bel near the carriage.

  He had two suitcases in his own hands.

  “Hello, Bel.” Her voice was stern.

  “Ah, Cameo, just getting a few things for Lorelei.”

 
She took one of the cases from him, opened it, determined it wasn’t Lorelei’s and walked back over to Jules. “Now then,” she ripped apart a large woman’s gown. “I trust this has just enough bacteria for your wound?”

  Jules nodded.

  She tied the bandage over his shirt. “That too tight?”

  “This is what you’ve become? I thought you were the coldest assassin Wick had in her employ. People in my village used to whisper your name as if you might appear out of the mist and take their lives in the night. And now you’re nursing people back to health?”

  “Apparently,” she said, offering him a drink from her flask.

  He accepted without hesitation. “Wick told me everything about you.”

  She met his eyes. “Really? Well, then why don’t you tell me a little something, hmm? When was the last time you saw Wick?”

  “Why does that matter? A month now?”

  “And what did she look like?”

  “What?”

  She slammed her heel into his newly bandaged wound for a second time.

  “Bitch!” he screamed at her.

  “Tell me.”

  He gasped. “She looked beautiful, like she always does. Long, red hair, blue eyes. I don’t know what else you want to know.”

  “You’re a fool.” She stood up.

  He looked up at her, clearly worn out.

  “She has you under her spell. Like most everyone else in her employ. You know so much,” she spat. “You know all about me, and you don’t even know the first thing about Wick.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She’s a haggard old woman Jules, you silly, silly boy.”

  “That’s not true!”

  She turned around and walked away.

  “She’ll be here soon to kill you!” He pulled on the rope that he was bound by.

  “Utterly?” Bel quipped.

  “Yes, utterly, you bastard! Come over here and face me!”

  Opal met her with a quizzical expression as she sat down next to him. “What was that all about?”

  She took a swig of the wine. “Just looking for information. I wondered what sort of powers Wick had. All these years I couldn’t figure it out, but everyone always said that she was a witch. She has Jules believing she’s some enchanting young thing.”

  “She’s not?”

  “Have you ever seen her?” she asked.

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “She’s an old woman. Granted, maybe she was enchanting sixty years ago, but she’s somewhat unpleasant to look at now. Her manners are nothing to recommend her by either.”

  “That’s why you took a prisoner? To find out about Wick?”

  Cameo handed him back the bottle, “Oh, partly. I don’t kill everyone I come into contact with, you know.”

  “I know,” he smiled. “Your group of friends is getting larger and larger.”

  She moaned. “I noticed that.”

  “Most people would be delighted.”

  “Most people...” she sighed. “Most people don’t have a vampire in their life who makes them miserable. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so quick to kill Tomley. Perhaps he had really did have some idea what Wick’s plans were.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  She exhaled a miserable sort of laugh, “no, not really.”

  “Well,” Opal patted her wrist, “you could always torture Jules until he tells you the answers you want to hear.”

  “You mean the truth?”

  “No.”

  She glanced over at Jules, tied to the tree and miserable, and she smiled because at the moment things couldn’t get much worse and the idea of taking Jules apart piece by piece amused her greatly. She turned back to Opal seriously, “No, he doesn’t know anything. There’s no point.”

  “Does that matter?”

  She ignored him, and searched Opal’s paints and various cosmetics that he had lying on the ground beside him, and began to toy with them.

  “Sorry to intrude,” Bel said walking over toward them.

  “Oh, hello, dear boy,” Black Opal said, clearly irked to see him.

  “Just came to get my things.”

  “And my things,” Opal hissed.

  “Whatever do you mean, old friend?”

  “Or should I say Lorelei’s things?” Opal’s face darkened. “I know you took that plunder from me.”

  “Certainly not.” Bel looked off in the distance, arms folded.

  “You are planning on giving that back to her? Poor girl witnessed her sister’s gruesome demise for heaven’s sake.”

  “And...you, of course, were planning on returning her money?” Bel said skeptically.

  “I think it appropriate now, don’t you?”

  “Now? Now that you have Cameo lured in you mean?”

  Cameo toyed with the brush, swirling it around in the canister of rouge.

  “What?”

  “You mean to play the part of someone kind in front of her. You forget, I know you very well. I know how you move in and gain access to a person’s heart and then simply toss it away. You are not kind, and if Cameo were not sitting at your side, you would never even mention giving back that money.”

  “Bel,” Opal’s voice softened.

  “Save it.”

  Jules chuckled in the distance.

  Bel snatched his shoulder pack defensively. Glaring at both of them, he turned and walked back over to Lorelei.

  “Gods, I predict a newer, yet even more awful play in the works!” Jules mocked.

  Cameo stood and walked over to Kyrian, who was unconscious on the ground beside Opal. She put a hand on his forehead, and he moaned as she touched him.

  “Kyrian?” She nudged him. “Wake up, Kyrian.”

  Opal took the broken mirror in his hand again and appraised the paint on his face. “It’s pointless, Cameo. He’s not going to get well...and neither am I.”

  Cameo stared at him for a moment as he picked up the red brush and applied it to his mouth.

  “You look nice.”

  He tossed the mirror desperately. “I hope so; you’ll be burying me in this death mask.”

  She smirked.

  “Cameo?” Kyrian whispered.

  She lifted his head and pressed a flask to his mouth.

  He managed to swallow a mouthful before he refused the rest. “Water ....”

  Opal passed over the wine.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have water at the moment, unless you want to suck some out of your wet clothes,” she said, holding up his shirt.

  The lad propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at his body. He was wearing Bel’s clothes.

  “Ruffled shirt,” he said as he grasped the front.

  “Wine?” Cameo offered him the bottle.

  “But, how did I get in Bel’s clothes?”

  Opal turned to look at him, annoyed. “Well, it certainly wasn’t me. Horrifying display,” he added distastefully.

  The lad turned from him and looked up at Cameo, a bit bewildered.

  “Your clothes were soaked.”

  He blushed.

  Cameo moved to get her bag.

  Kyrian noticed the cape around him for the first time as it slid from his shoulders. He recognized the red badge as the symbol of the Association, then he saw the bullet hole and realized it was Cameo’s. “Isn’t this yours?”

  She took a quick look over at him, then back into her pack. “Yes.”

  “Well, you didn’t have it when you left the Temple of the Moon, did you? I remember Black Opal offering you his coat.” He sat up.

  “Here’s some bread; afraid it’s about the only thing left.”

  Kyrian nodded.

  “Are you doing all right?”

  He took a swig of the wine. “Did you go back to the Temple?”

  This was the question Cameo had dreaded, so she decided to lie, “Uhh...yes, yes I did. That’s how I got my cape back.”

  Opal raised an eyebrow
.

  “Oh, really? Because I thought that place had been burned to the ground,” Kyrian said.

  “What?”

  The lad took a bite of the stale bread. “It’s been burned to the ground, just like that shrine in Kings Basin.”

  The assassin hesitated to meet Opal’s eye now.

  “You mean the one in Kings Basin where there was nothing left but smoldering timber, Kyrian?” Opal provided sarcastically.

  “Yes.”

  “Fine, Opal, I believe you.” She flashed an irritated expression in Opal’s direction, then turned back to Kyrian. “Yes, I saw your grandfather and he returned the cape to me.”

  The lad paused, “I think you’re mistaken.”

  “No, no, I don’t think so.”

  Kyrian smiled at her. “You don’t have to protect me Cameo. I know Cyrus is dead.”

  “What? How do you know—”

  “He’s been with me for a few days now.” He gestured to the spot beside him, “He’s with me right now. So...I think you are...trying to protect me from something?” The lad searched the area until his eyes fell upon Jules.

  Cameo pulled a dagger from her belt. “I’ll finish him.”

  Kyrian put his hand on hers. “No.”

  She hated the sorrow in his eyes as he stared at Jules, surveying him from the distance. “I should never have brought him with us.”

  “He is the man who killed my grandfather; he burned the Temple and left him inside to die,” the lad said.

  She attempted to stand, but Kyrian was still holding onto the hand that grasped the dagger.

  “Please, don’t.”

  Opal sighed, “He’ll die soon enough. That wound can only get infected and he’ll have a painful, lingering death.”

  She slid the dagger back into its sheath. “I could never be that forgiving.”

  “I don’t forgive him. I hate him.” Kyrian’s face flushed. “But Cyrus said it was his time...so you can’t kill that man. It was supposed to happen.”

  “I can’t imagine it was supposed to happen like that,” Cameo said as she helped him lay back.

  “Maybe not, but I can’t stand to see you kill him.”

  She checked his forehead. “I hate to break it to you, my friend, but I’ve killed lots of people.”

  “I know, but that’s why Cyrus wanted me to go with you.”

  “I think you’ve been mislead, Kyrian; your grandfather wanted me to take you safely to that shrine, that’s all.”