A/N: Hi there! This is my first story writing from a male perspective, and also my first story when I'm writing as someone over 16 years of age in places. Therefore, I might find it a bit hard, so try not to slate me TOO much!! I'd love constructive criticism – I aim to please and if I don't, then I always want to know how to improve my writing in the future. If you can, then please drop me a review (unsigned if you like). It doesn't have to be long. You don't even have to write one!! Anyway, try to enjoy the story, and if you don't enjoy it, then stop reading because a person should read for fun and no other purpose :D Thank-you
POV: Shane Foster, 18 years old.
Song I Played Writing This (Just in case it matters :D): Assassin – John Mayer
"You're a bastard child." I said, as a smart retort to an insult Juliet had just said.
"How would you know that? You don't know who my parents were. Even I don't know that." she snapped, her hazel eyes flashing in anger. I couldn't hide the small smirk that was twitching at the corners of my mouth. I'd hit a raw nerve. I knew it. Deep down, she wanted to know who her parents were, no matter how many times she denied it. Deep down, she wanted to know what her life would be like if my father hadn't adopted her. If adopted was the right word. Kidnapped would probably be a better word for it, I assumed. I, for one, don't think that any parent besides my father would willingly give up their daughter so that she could be raised to have no emotions whatsoever. That's what makes me believe that my father didn't ask permission before he took Juliet away. It's just my suspicions though, because he never told me what happened.
"How do you know that my father didn't entrust me with details of your birth parents?" I retorted, firing a question back in her face, instead of answering her own. I saw something falter in Juliet's eyes, a brief hesitation. I knew that she was doubting herself, wondering if my father really had let on to me something about her parents. He hadn't, of course. He was a far better spy than that. He was the best in the business; Lewis Foster, the greatest of his generation. He had taught me everything I knew now. Especially bluffing. My father had taught me much about bluffing. Perhaps that is why I am so good at it. I was bluffing now, and I seemed to be fooling Juliet, if only partially. She was normally so intelligent, so I knew that something was bothering her. I supposed it was her impending mission.
"Because I'm his most valuable asset. If he's going to trust anyone with anything important, it would be me." she smiled smugly, tossing her brown bushy mane of hair over her shoulder. I glared at her. What made her think that my father would trust her over me? I knew that she was only doing it to anger me, but it riled me all the same. How dare she suggest anything of the sort? I could feel my blood boiling in my veins, and I resisted the sudden urge I felt to reach out and hit her.
"What makes you think you're most valuable?" I glared instead, trying my hardest to act as though her words didn't bother me. She rolled her eyes as though the answer was obvious. I raised an eyebrow at her; I wanted to hear the reasoning behind the ridiculous point she had just made.
"I'm the one out there, risking my life. You sit at home and do nothing." answered Juliet coolly, examining her fingernails as though we were discussing something no more trivial than the weather. I swallowed, suppressing my anger deep inside of me. I didn't "do nothing" as she put it. I was the brains behind the investigation. If nobody did the desk work, then nothing would ever get done. Also, it wasn't my fault that this particular mission wasn't suited for me. This mission required a girl, and Juliet was the only one who could fulfil that requirement; I certainly couldn't.
"Risking your life? Don't make me laugh. As if they'd murder a girl." I chuckled. I knew they wouldn't murder a girl. My opponents were too soft to do something which they would consider so 'boorish' but I would have no problem with it. However, I would not be faced with the situation, because our side was the only one with a girl on it. Our side consisted of Juliet and Me. Their side consisted of four boys: James Martin; Zane Bennett; Elliott Havisham and Harry Smart. Four boys who would be taken in quite easily by the spies on our side, as long as everything was to go as planned and there were to be no hiccups along the way.
"I'm still their enemy, regardless of gender, you sexist git." spat Juliet, pure venom in her glower as she fixed her smouldering hazel eyes on me. I felt a shiver go down my spine. She was scary when she wanted to be. I hated to admit it, but I was petrified at that moment. Juliet seemed to have that effect on people when she was angry. However, I was determined not to let her get the best of me, or even realise that she had unnerved me. I wasn't going to show my weakness.
"They don't even know that you're their enemy, so you're not a target. I, on the other hand..." I began, but Juliet was in my face, cutting me off before I finished my sentence.
"They don't know that you're the enemy either." she interjected, in a cold, shrill voice. I paused for thought, to come up with another argument to counteract hers. It was taxing, because although I didn't like to say so, the girl was making some rather valid points though.
"They have an inkling that I am though, because I'm my father's son." I eventually settled for. My voice was calm, cool and connected. I prayed that she wouldn't pick up on the apprehension that was lying not too far beneath my cool exterior.
"I'm your father's adopted daughter – I'm under their suspicion too." she replied, an edge to her voice. She didn't want to admit that I could be in more danger than her. She didn't want to admit she was wrong. I sighed; like all women. I sound sexist, but I'm not. It's just that when your only work colleague is a girl, you start to notice certain qualities of women that would not be so prominent under any other circumstances. Certain qualities of Juliet have become particularly identifiable to me over the past 16 years, and some of them are less pretty than others.
"Not as much." I countered, holding up a hand for her to listen to me. However, she rolled her eyes dramatically skywards.
"Why?" she asked, interrupting before I could finish my argument. I glared daggers at her. Juliet could be unbelievably annoying when she was trying to be. Sometimes, she was annoying even without effort.
"You're a girl, as I mentioned before." I replied, with a flippant yawn. Her eyes flashed dangerously. I'd said the wrong thing, and I instantaneously regretted it. Juliet in a temper is one of the most lethal things I have ever experienced and I had a feeling that I was about to experience it once again.
"It's the 21st century, Shane. Girls can fight. Girls can use guns. Girls can kill. I can kill." Juliet shouted, her voice rising as she progressed through the argument. Her eyes were filled with pure venom as she glared at me, and I couldn't help but feel just slightly scared. There was no telling what Juliet was capable of whilst in this state. She was capable of murder, certainly. I decided to cool the argument off, but in a way where neither of us had to admit we were wrong. This was how most of our conflict ended, because neither one of us liked to lose a fight.
"Very well, Miss Murder. I'll see you tonight to discuss details." I said hurriedly, reverting to the name we used for business. As soon as there was business involved, she was no longer my adoptive sister Juliet, who would joke around with me if she was in a good enough mood. She was Miss Murder, and then there was no joking at all.
"Adieu for now, then." she replied, a smug smile upon her face. She could speak 6 different languages, besides English, and she liked to show off about it whenever she could. French was her favourite, for certain. Then it was Spanish, followed swiftly by Italian, then Irish, then German and lastly, it was Dutch. She told me that she found Dutch the second-most hardest. Irish was hardest, but it was the one which she found most entertaining. Fun, Juliet had called it. I wasn't inclined to believe her.
"Make sure you're there tonight. The Warehouse. Twenty-two hundred (2200). Don't be late." I instructed, in the cold voice that I used for business. As soon as business entered the room, my emotion left. In this business, there was no room for emotion. It would only get in the way.
"A good assassin is always on time, dearest brother." said Juliet with a small smile etched upon her face. She turned on her heel, and walked away, her bushy brown hair swinging behind her as she walked. I felt my heart skip a beat; Miss Murder was certainly an expert at her job.
A/N: Thank-you for reading this far! :D That is all I have to say. I will update as frequently as I can, but I often find myself pressed for time with the amount of work I have to do, so I will update whenever I can. I am on holiday ATM, so updates MAY be more frequent than usual. We will just have to wait and see ;)