Shadow Of The Dusk

Shadow Of The Dusk

Prologue

    Hundreds of neon lights flashed around him, loud music blaring through the hall. Out of all the swaying and drunken sweaty bodies, his sharp hawk like gaze was fixed on just one person, unwavering for even a second.

He was a noticeable figure in the crowd, comfortably seated, dressed in a black full suit that contrasted the bright blue of his eyes, dark hair styled in to perfection. One leg crossed over the other, hand wrapped around his glass of wine, head held up, there was a certain aura of dark mysteriousness, highlighted with a touch of power around him.

Steep arched eyebrows accentuated the glow of stubborn power in his eyes, light tanned skin of his face matched with a rough stubble, his high cheek bones and the sharp angle of his jaw was prominent. He was tall for a man, broad shouldered  with perfectly muscled arms and all, the dark suit embracing his toned chest. A slow smirk curled up at his lips as they touched the smooth edge of his glass.

He was not the type to enjoy his time in clubs, wasting money on women and alcohol. But such places weren't unfamiliar to him either. Despite of his dislike, often there were occasions where he had to go there. Afterall, he was a man dedicated to his job, more than anything else in the world.

It was no secret to him that he was getting more attention than he would have liked, despite of him having chosed a dark corner in the club, away from prying eyes. His attempts to conceal himself in the shadows went failure, gaining him the lustful as well as inviting gazes. Un-bothered by all this attention, his unwavering gaze of curiosity and close analysis, was fixed on a figure seated several meters ahead of him.

A young woman, who probably couldn't be more than twenty was sitting in her own private corner, oblivious to the world around her. She was slim built with an approximate height of about 5"5, dressed in a pure white elegant long sleeved dress than ran down her figure, accentuating her soft curves and pooled around her ankles. The silvery white of the dress highlighted her lone figure in the dark. Dark red hair cascaded down her back in lose waves, curling at her waist and framing her heart shaped face.

Seated on her chair, one leg crossed over the other in the most casual manner, she portrayed the character of a young careless woman. Her bright emerald green eyes hardly left the glass of red wine in her hand, cupid's bow lips coated in a light shade of red were pressed together in concentration, curved eyebrows narrowed slightly. There was nothing dangerous about her, or even something to be wary of, except for the heavenly glow around her and angelic face. She was a perfect image of beauty and delicate grace.

For his past time spent observing her, not once did she raise her head to meet his gaze directly, lost in her own world, sipping her wine and occasionally bobbing her head up and down to the music or drumming her long fingers against the table. And he had always been careful to be subtle in his silent observation on her. Therefore, he had no doubt that she had no idea of his eyes on her.

"Are you sure it's her?" He murmured to the man beside him.

"Of course." His comrade replied with no hesitance but absolute confidence in his voice. "She is the one."

"I don't think she is the one." The blue eyed man denied, his eyes never leaving the woman. "Maybe you have made a mistake."

His companion scoffed, sounding slightly offended. "Man, trust me. I don't make mistakes." He rolled his eyes, leaning forward with his elbows digging in to the surface of their table. "She is the only one who could help you in this."

"She is just a young girl. I bet she isn't even twenty." He took sip of his drink.

"You shouldn't underestimate her." The second man said with a certain serious heaviness in his voice. "Underestimating her would be one of the worst mistakes in your life."

"I don't think this will work, Lincoln."

Lincoln sighed. "You asked for my help." He said, leaning back in his seat. "And I'm telling you, she is your best chance in this. Your only chance."

"You mean her?" The blue eyed man smirked, gesturing at the red haired woman who was now worryingly eyeing her nail with a small pout on her lips. "Looks like she has damaged her nail or something."

The other, Lincoln shook his head. "Do you even know who she is?"

"Should I?" He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, do you?"

"No one exactly knows who she is." Lincoln admitted. "They just call her shadow."

"Shadow?"

"Yeah, Shadow. She's swift, untraceable and most importantly, uncatchable, like a shadow in the night."

He hummed in thought. "Well then, why don't we just go over there and talk with her?" He suggested, a strange glint in his sapphire blue eyes. "If she's as good as you say... maybe she could be exactly what we are looking for."

He made a move to stand up, pushing back his chair but was stopped in mid motion by Lincoln's iron like grip on his arm.

He frowned. "What?"

"You are going to talk to her? Just like that?"

"Why of course. What's there to worry so much?"

"I... are you sure about this?" Lincoln asked again.

"What are you talking about? You just said she's the only one who can help. If she is as good as you said in what she does, this could be our chance to trap that bastard."

"Well..." Lincoln hesitated, a sudden nervousness in his eyes and his companion could at once detect the sudden shift in his mood.

"Well what?" He snapped, rather impatiently. "Hurry up, man! I can't spend the whole night here."

Lincoln casted a quick suspicious look around him before leaning closer. And in a barely audible whisper, he said,

"You see... She's not exactly one of the good guys."

His breath hitched in his throat, blue eyes widening for a split second in complete shock. "She is... What?"

"Yeah." Lincoln sighed, scratching his head.

"Who exactly is this woman?"

Lincoln rubbed his jaw in an almost thoughtful manner. "You ever heard of the untraceable shadow?"

The lines on his forehead deepened, the pieces of the puzzle finally starting to fit together, forming the picture that he was struggling to see. "You mean that shadow? Case 340679?"

"Yeah." Lincoln confirmed. "The assassin who never left any traces or evidence. The deadliest of all. Or in your words, case 340679."

"Shit." He cursed, slamming a curled up fist against the rough table. "God damn it." He ran his hand through his dark locks, wheels turning in his head. "But... can she really be that shadow? I mean, just look at her! How can she be that criminal? Does she even look the tiniest bit dangerous..."

"Excuse me sir?" He was cut short in the middle of his ramble by a waiter that walked up to their table, holding a platter with several empty glasses.

"Yes?" Lincoln asked with a tight lipped smile, noticing that his aquintice was in no mood to acknowledge the man.

The waiter, a young boy dressed in a uniform, offered both of them a welcoming warm smile. "Sir, I'm sorry for the trouble but, you have a message."

Realizing that the boy was addressing his companion, Lincoln sharply nudged him in his side, bringing him back to his senses.

"Yeah?" He finally responded to the waiter.

The guy's smile widened. "You have a message, sir." He repeated and before any of the two could reply, he bent down and placed a small paper folded in two, on the table right in front of the blue eyed man.

"Who gave this to you?" He asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"The lady over there." The guy said, nodding in the direction of the red haired woman in the white dress, before walking away, leaving the dark haired man staring at the paper as if it was a venomous snake.

With a slight frown of confusion, he picked up the small chit, his fingers slightly trembling with excitement. He unfolded it and was instantly greeted with one sentence, scribbled down in small neat letters, undoubtedly the elegant writing of a woman.

He absent mindedly felt Lincoln leaning over his shoulder to read the message as well, while his own eyes ran down the chit, taking in the words.

I know I'm irrestible but, it's rude to stare, you know.

With wide eyes, he raised his head, his blue eyes instantly meeting her bright emerald green eyes, a strange mischievous twinkle in their depths.

Holding his gaze, her lips curled up in to a small smile. A smile, not a smirk or a fake grin.

And she winked.

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